?I was thinking the same thing,? Bobby Lee replied.
?That was a joke.?
?Yeah, I knew that. I can always tell when you?re joking.?
Preacher let the subject slide. ?Tell me again how this Holland fellow spotted Liam. I didn?t quite get all that.?
?I guess he recognized him, that?s all.?
?Even though Liam had shaved off his beard and was sitting in a crowded restaurant and the sheriff had never seen him and had no reason to be looking for Liam there??
?Search me. Weird stuff happens.?
?But the sheriff didn?t make you??
?I was in the can, taking a dump.?
?How?d you get out during all that shooting if you were in the can??
?It was a Chinese fire drill. I ran outside with the crowd.?
?And just strolled on off, a fellow with no car, a fellow everybody saw sitting with Liam just a few minutes earlier??
?Most of them were pouring the wee-wee out of their shoes. Why should they worry about me??
?Maybe you were just lucky.?
?I told you the way it was.?
?Young people believe they?re never going to die. So they?ve got confidence that old men like me don?t have. That?s where your luck comes from, Bobby Lee. Your luck is an illusion produced by an illusion.?
Bobby Lee?s obvious sense of discomfort was growing. He shifted in his chair and glanced at the stars and the sparkle of the desert and the greenish cast at the bottom of the sky. ?Is that hole behind us one of those pioneer storage places where they kept preserves and shit??
?Maybe it goes down to the center of the earth. I?m going to find out one day.?
?Sometimes I just can?t track what you?re saying, Jack.?
?My uncle was in the South Pacific. He said he dynamited a whole mountain on top of the Japs who wouldn?t surrender and were hiding in caves. He said you could hear them at night, like hundreds of bees buzzing under the ground. I bet if you put your ear to the ground, you might still hear them.?
?Why do you talk about stuff like that??
?Because I?m doubting your truthfulness, and you?re starting to piss me off.?
?I wouldn?t try to put the glide on you. Give me some credit,? Bobby Lee said, his eyes round, unblinking, the pupils dilated like drops of ink in the dark.
?Bobby Lee, you either gave up Liam or this fellow Holland is a special kind of lawman, the kind who doesn?t quit till he staples your hide on the barn door. Which is it??
?I didn?t give up Liam. He was my friend,? Bobby Lee replied, propping his hands on his knees, tilting his face up at the sky. His unshaved jaw looked as though grains of black pepper and salt had been rubbed into the pores. Preacher looked at him for a long time, until Bobby Lee?s face began to twitch and his eyes glistened. ?You want to keep hurting and insulting me, go ahead and do it. I came out here to see you because you?re my friend. But all you do is run me down,? Bobby Lee said.
?I believe you, boy,? Preacher said.
Bobby Lee cleared his throat and spat. ?Why do you do it?? he asked.
?Do what??
?Our kind of work. We?re button men. We push people?s off button and shut down their motors. A pro does it for money. It?s not supposed to be personal. You?re a pro, Preacher, but with you, it?s not the money. It?s something nobody ever asks you about. Why do you do it??
?Why are you asking me??