Birthright

it.” Sonya turned her head, her cheek resting on her updrawn knees. “I don’t see how he can just be dead. Just like that. We were sitting here talking a few hours ago about stuff I don’t even remember. I didn’t even see him go over to the pond.”
    “I did.” Bob shifted his feet. “I didn’t think anything of it. He and Digger had a couple of words about something, then Bill went off toward the woods. Figured he had to, you know, take a leak. I didn’t think he was that drunk or anything. I just didn’t pay any attention.”
    “Nobody did,” Dory put in. “God, I was half asleep and thinking about crawling into the tent. And I . . . I heard Digger say something like, ‘Don’t fall into the pond and drown.’ I laughed.” Her breath caught on a sob. “I just laughed.”
    “We were always laughing at him. Goddamn, he was such a schmo.”
    Dory swiped at her cheeks. “It’s not your fault,” she said to Bob. “We wouldn’t have found him so soon if you hadn’t wondered where he was, remembered he’d gone that way. He’d still be in the water if you . . .”
    “I want to go home.” Sonya began to weep again. “I just want to go home. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
    “You go back to the house.” Callie put an arm aroundher shoulders. “As soon as the sheriff says it’s okay, you go back to the house for the night. See what you want to do in the morning.”
    She glanced toward the trailer, then over at Dory. She pointed to the ground beside Sonya, then rose as Dory sat, put both arms around Sonya.
    Let them cry together, Callie thought. She just didn’t have any tears.
    I n the trailer Jake set another cup of coffee in front of Digger. “Drink it.”
    “I don’t want any damn coffee. God, Jake, that boy’s dead.”
    “You can’t help him. You can’t help yourself if you don’t sober up and start thinking.”
    “What’s there to think about? I let him walk off, half shitfaced so he could fall in the fucking pond and fucking drown. I was in charge here. I should’ve gone with him.”
    “You’re not a baby-sitter, and you’re not responsible for what happened to McDowell.”
    “Aw, Christ, Jake, Christ.” He lifted his burnt-raisin face. “Most of them are just kids. They’re just kids.”
    “I know it.” Jake pressed his forehead to the cabinet, fought to steady himself, then eased back and got out another cup.
    How many times had he needled that kid? Deliberately baited him over Callie. Just for the hell of it.
    “But he was old enough to be here, old enough to drink. You’re not here to run herd on them, Dig. You’re here to make sure nobody disturbs the site.”
    “Pretty fucking disturbed when a kid’s floating facedown in the water. Where are my smokes?”
    Jake picked up what was left of a crumpled pack on the counter, tossed them over. “Drink the goddamn coffee, suck down a cigarette, then tell me exactly what happened. You want to cry over it, cry later.”
    “I see Mr. Sensitivity’s hard at work.” Callie shot Jake a disgusted glare as she came in.
    “He’s just trying to straighten me up,” Digger replied. He yanked out his bandanna, blew his nose heroically.
    “Yeah, and if he pushes your face in shit, you’d say it was to improve your complexion.” She stepped around the little pedestal table and did something she’d never done in her life, or expected to do.
    She put her arms around Digger’s bony shoulders and stroked his long, tangled hair.
    “I came in here to use the john, then to pull out the bed. Was going to put on some music in case I could talk Sonya into screwing around. I knew he was half drunk. Barely finished a second beer and he was half drunk. I watch out for them, I swear to God. Just to make sure they don’t get stupid. Seemed to me like everybody was settling down.”
    He sighed a little, rubbed his cheek against Callie for comfort. “Matt was playing the guitar. Can’t play worth shit, but it’s always nice to have somebody playing something. Those two from West Virginia? Frannie and Chuck? They were making out. Bob was writing something. Had a damn flashlight wired around his hat like a freaking miner. Dory, she was half asleep already, and Sonya was singing. ‘Free Bird.’ She kept messing up the words, but I liked hearing her anyway.”
    He closed his eyes. “It was a nice night. Clear, just cool enough. Lots of lightning bugs, and the cicadas were still carrying on. I saw that boy get up,