Tired, nodding off. The street lights went on up the hill and down on the corner, and the night settled down. Night bugs flew in the windows and beat against the walls. The squirrels chased each other around the loft like it was a race track. A barn bat made circles high above the yard, then flew straight to the streetlight and then I don’t know where. The moon went off and hung out somewhere else. I couldn’t find it anywhere around here.
Uncle Brucker finished his beer and threw the can in the corner of the shed. I had some Coke left I was saving. He went outside to take a pee and check around.
He came back and stuck his head in the window.
“You still in there?”
“I ain’t gone nowhere,” I told him.
“Gettin’ chilly,” he said.
“I got a over shirt I can wear.”
“Well, where is it?”
“On the back of the chair.”
“You keepin’ the chair warm?”
“I ain’t’ cold. Don’t know about the chair. . . . What was that?”
Out there in the woods, a howl. It started out strong then cut off like a howling question. I had heard it before, earlier. Now it was back again, and closer. And another howl too, a long-stretching answer howl. We listened to the answer howl fade into the night. It was spooky.
“What was that, coy dogs callin’?” I asked.
“Nah, it ain’t no coy dog. Them’s ratfuckers howlin’ on a moonless night.”
“You mean they’re doin’ it out there?”
“No, it’s cause they ain’t gettin’ any,” Uncle Brucker said.