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<strong>Jack</strong> <strong>kilborn</strong> <strong>SErial</strong> <strong>blakE</strong> <strong>crouch</strong><br />
The winding county road ahead was pitch black, like<br />
driving through ink. Donaldson sipped his soda. lucy<br />
watched him closely, taking periodic nips at her energy drink.<br />
The cool, dry air seemed to crackle with electricity as they<br />
climbed into the mountains.<br />
“So is that really a guitar in that case?” Donaldson asked<br />
after five miles of silence.<br />
“What do you think?”<br />
“i’ll be honest with you, darlin’. You’re a bit of a mystery<br />
to me. i’ve been around, but i’m not sure what to make of<br />
you.”<br />
“how so?”<br />
“You’re young. but you’ve heard of Vietnam, i’m<br />
guessing.”<br />
“i loved Platoon.”<br />
Donaldson nodded. “Well then, you were practically there<br />
in the rice paddies with me, going toe to toe with the cong.”<br />
he drank more soda. lucy watched.<br />
“Took some shrapnel in my hip in ca lu,” Donaldson<br />
said. “nicked my sciatic nerve. biggest nerve in the body. Pain<br />
sometimes gets so bad i can chew through a bath towel. Do<br />
you understand pain, little girl?”<br />
“More so than you’d think.”<br />
“So you should know, then, opiates and i are friends<br />
from way back.” Donaldson took a big pull off the soda. “So<br />
spiking my drink here hasn’t done much more than make<br />
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