”Not that I recognized the language ... it was guttural and coarse.He grabbed the lodgepole pine splinter sticking up and twisted.“OW fucking OW!�...�“Hold him,” he said to the unknown hand.Darkness.The splinter wasn’t a splinter ... it was the three foot end of one of my tipi poles ... and it had transfixed my leg. I am supposing he pushed it through ... supposing ... because it was no longer sticking out of my thigh. The darkness lifted ... I could see again.“Why didn’t he pull the branch out. "To secrets and confidences that may be revealed this afternoon." Jake tookhis glass and clinked it against the other glass, both hanging in the airas if they two men waited for what words were to be shared in the comingminutes and hours. Mr. Getty took possession of the facing leather chair,waiting for Jake to take a sip of the fine scotch. "Jake, it's about yourfriend, Marian."Jake looked to Mr. Getty his head tuning to the side his mouth tightening,his fingers gripped the glass of whiskey. More

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