Blood, Brothers and Others

It’s two AM and you’ve got a body in your trunk. Now what?


Some folks would immediately say, “well, we go to the nearest police station and turn ourselves in.”  And I say to those  gentle people, good for you. But You guys should stop reading now. For everyone else, it’s a fair question.

There are three people on earth I’d walk out into the swamp with, or take a trip out into a foggy sea armed with cement blocks and unanswered questions. I’d do it for them because I trusted them. I’d risk my future and my happiness and that of my children for loyalty and honor. That’s not smart, but that’s me. And maybe they wouldn’t do the same for me. I think they would, but, really, it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t blame them if they didn’t. I hope I never find out.

I have discovered I’m lucky. I’ve got a few good friends.They’ve chastised, advised, cajoled, pontificated, and sacrificed. They have made me a better man. They gave me hope when I was desolate, a smile when my own was lost, and  all three of them grabbed me by the wrist when I was drowning and pulled me toward the light.

These are friends. The people in the trenches and quagmires next  to you, and sometimes you lift them up and sometimes they lift you, and when the mud is gone and the years haven’t quite washed it all away, that’s how you know.

Through the mud and the crud and the years. I’ve got three friends I’d bust out a shovel for. If they wouldn’t do the same for me, then, that’s all right, I understand. But they know who I am, and they know, that if they banged on my door in the middle of the night they’d greet a death eating grin and strong back

It’s two AM and you’ve got a body in the trunk. What would you do?



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