3/31/01

I ended up staying home from cricket practice yesterday. After that kid came around snooping I felt like I had taken a hoof to the abdomen. I called Percy and told him I wasn’t feeling well.

It’s all right Joe, Percy says, I can tell you really don’t want to be on the team. I’ll take you off the roster.

No, no, I reply, feeling again like I have to stay on the team if only to defy Percy’s desire to keep me off, you keep me on the roster. I’ll be there next time.

I just kept thinking how stupid I was staying quiet about Porch Rot filling in that old well on his farm, buying that story of his. I’m wondering now if the guy could have been a freaking serial killer or something. He wasn’t the dumb ass after all---I was. Asshole Redneck Detective, indeed. I’m wondering now if there was more to the story about Mexican Mike. The guy supposedly dies by accident on Porch Rot’s farm and days later Porch Rot is making moves on his woman? Maybe that slip into the shit lagoon wasn’t what it seemed, you know?

And then I keep thinking about my father’s accident, getting caught up in the PTO shaft of the shit spreader. In reality that could have been staged. There could have been motives behind it.

And then the loose bull even. . .sickening to think. . .

And then, maybe not. . .April fools.