Rant

contusions and lacerations of the pericardial sac, but we can’t confirm that until the coroner opens him up at the morgue. I’m Tina Something with your DRVR Rubberneck Report, every ten minutes or as the wrecks happen…
    Echo Lawrence: The future starts tomorrow, and Rant needs to say this before the bus pulls up. This moment, it’s something his dad won’t want to know. This here, Rant says, is the fact that starts a new future. Or a brand-new past. Or both.
    Rant slapping flies, cupping wind and sand away from his face, he says, “Just so you know,” he swats a bite on the back of his neck and says, “I’m never getting hitched.”
    A star blinks on the edge of the world, getting bright, blinding bright, growing so fast it goes past before you can hear the sound, the wind and dust of it—only a car, already come and gone. The headlights fading over the far side of the world.
    And Rant’s dad, he says, “No.” He squats in the gravel and says, “You only figure that way to put a fright in me.” Chester Casey says, “Soon as you meet a girl name of Echo Lawrence, you’ll figure otherwise.”
    The wind bowing every weed and clump of cheatgrass in the same direction. Shaking every sagebrush. On the wind, you can smell the smoke of embroidery silk and smoldering denim. Chrome rivets.
    Look here. It’s impossible Chester Casey could’ve known my name. We’d never met. At this point, I’d never heard of Middleton or Rant.
    Logan Elliot ( Childhood Friend): The only worst part of the Casey house, when you visited, was how his ma used to listen outside the bathroom door. No lie. The first time I was over, I opened the door, and she stood there blocking the way, telling me, “I would appreciate it, upon future visits to this household, if you would urinate from a seated position…”
    It didn’t matter I didn’t know the word “urinate.”
    Echo Lawrence: That night, waiting for the bus, Rant and his dad squinted as a new star blinked on the horizon, getting big, blowing by in a gust of wind and diesel smoke, the star exploded into white headlights, yellow running lights, red taillights. A cab, sleeper box, double trailer. Then—gone.
    Rant says, “I’m meeting some girl?” He says, “How do you figure that?”
    And his dad says, “Same as I knowed an old man pulled up and talked to you before you come running about your Granny Esther.” Chester says, “Old man in a Chrysler, told you that he was your for-real pa.”
    Spitting black, a sideways stream into the gravel, Rant says, “What model of Chrysler?”
    And Chester Casey says, “Same as I knowed your Granny Esther screamed at the sight of him, called him the Devil, and telled you to run.”
    East of the bus-stop sign, the real stars come on. Straight overhead, more stars blink on. Flicker, and stay bright.
    Scratching at bug bites, rubbing away goosebumps, Rant says, “Supposing that’s the truth,” he says, “what else did that old man tell me?”
    Cammy Elliot ( Childhood Friend): At the Casey house, if you used their peanut butter, Mrs. Casey wanted for you to smoothe what was left in the jar. So it always looked fresh store-bought.
    Echo Lawrence: Chester Casey tells his son, “That old man telled you he was your real pa, he telled you to come find him in the city, soon as you was able.” Chester’s cowboy boot, the pointed toe taps the cardboard suitcase, and he says, “And that old man telled you where to find all this cash money.”
    And Rant spits black tar, close enough to splash the side of the suitcase. Rabies-infected saliva. Black spattered on the brand-new of the cardboard. Rant just sits there, shaking his head no.
    Chester Casey says, “That old man, he telled the truth about being your for-real pa.”
    Sheriff Bacon Carlyle ( Childhood Enemy): Don’t ask for my feeling sorry. Your average city’s nothing except different levels of pervert. Rant only told that story to fit in. Him and Mr. Casey, they just took their pissing matches a little more far than your average father and son.
    Echo Lawrence: At the edge of the world, another star pops up.
    Rant says, “You’re only lying so I won’t get homesick…” He shifts his ass on the top of that cardboard suitcase full of gold.
    In the city, Chester tells him, Rant will find his real father, and his grandfather. Rant will discover his true nature. “First thing,” Chet says, “soon as you meet Echo Lawrence for the first time, you give her a big kiss