Chapter 13

“I found your note,” he said.

Originally, when he saw the book sitting on Jimmy’s desk, he pegged it as a journal, coming down from his perch of self-directed anger. Sorrow swiftly raced in to settle heavily on his shoulders. He sank into the wheeled chair, and there it was, the brown leather book sitting smack fan in the middle of the desk. How had he failed to notice it earlier? Desperate to be close to Jimmy, he flipped the cover back and was greeted by a single sentence in his uncle’s familiar handwriting. It was enough to trigger the waterworks anew.

“I’m going to do it, Uncle Jimmy,” he said, channeling the young boy he’d been when his uncle took him in. “I just wish you were here to see it.”

Reluctantly, Roscoe followed Matthew back to the car. There was one more stop to make, then on to the most pivotal, important part of his life. As he left the slumbering departed in his rearview mirror, Matthew recalled the last message Jimmy left him.