Chapter 8

Sam waved, “Enough. Thanks.”

Harry set the tumbler of lukewarm water back on the coaster and sank back into the warm-seated cushion. He folded his hands into a teepee on his knees and stared over at his ailing friend. “Would you like to get some sleep?”

A hurried hand flew into the air. “God no!” Winded he added, “I’ll have enough time to sleep. If I close my eyes, I may not wake up.”

As if exhausted and out of breath from talking, Sam leaned his frail head back against a large soft pillow. His sandpaper tongue snaked around the dry edges of his lips, moistening the parched skin.

“Sam?”

He turned his head slightly to Harry, mumbling, “Yeah?”

“Thanks for seeing me.”

Sam pointed a finger up at Harry. “I needed to see you too.”

Grinning, Harry said, “Life has been good to us three old geezers.”

A thin smile tugged across Sam’s bony face like a forgotten memory. Stammering, “Nobody will take our places.”