The barber painted red lines on the sidewalk, across from where he had last seen Sonny. And Grandpa, where was he? Last seen in a trailer made of air that had no windows, no doors. A nearby forest held the evening star hostage. A newspaper was found bound in wire. There were uninvited angels descending rickety ladders in their overalls. It was clear they had been drinking again. Just then, sunset crumbled into ice. A shop that sold rubber bands opened for business. A small dog that had been attacked by an alligator stumbled out of the forest on three legs and joined the boys at the barbershop. They named him Tripod. On Father’s Day the barber and Tripod went fishing in the cemetery. Who needs water anyway? Who needs fish? They had three rods, a ball to play with, and a cooler full of beer to sit on.