Hear the Wind Sing

6

The Rat’s stories always follow two rules: first, there are no sex scenes, and second, not one person dies. Even if you don’t acknowledge it, people die, and guys sleep with girls. That’s just how it is.

* * *

“Do you think I’m wrong?” she asked.

The Rat took a sip of beer and shook his head deliberately. “I’ll just come right out and say it, everybody’s wrong.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Hm,” the Rat grunted and licked his upper lip. He made no effort to respond.

“I thought my arms were going to fall off with how hard I swam to get to that island. It hurt so much I thought I was going to die. Over and over I kept thinking about it. If I’m wrong, then you must be right. I struggled so hard, so why were you able to just float on the ocean’s surface ding nothing?”

When she said this, she laughed a little, looking depressed with her eyes crinkling at the corners. The Rat bashfully dug around randomly in his pocket. For the last three years he’d wanted so much to smoke a cigarette.

“You’d rather I died?”

“Heh, a little.”

“Really? Only a little?”

“I forget.”

The two of them were silent for a moment. The Rat felt compelled to say something.

“Well, some people are just born unlucky.”

“Who said that?”

“John F. Kennedy.”