Those were the kinds of idiots he’d had to constantly be fending off.
As for the folks on his side (the free-market side, the pro-progress side), if they’d found some value in it? Having seen it as a road map, a blueprint, a much-needed, long-overdue bit ofpushback to those who preferred to yellhaltat anyone actually trying todoa thing instead of just ignorantly yapping about it? The knee-jerk objectors, the panty twisters, the doom sobbers?
He’d take that.
He was proud of it.
Took cojones to speak a difficult truth.
To wade in against the prevailing tide.
The pain that had tormented him all evening had slightly receded in the face of these happy memories.
That was Aarhus? I said.
I can’t believe you never heard of it, he said. Where’d you live? Under a rock? How old were you? When you croaked? A newborn?
Frankness on my part might sometimes encourage a corresponding frankness on the part of my charge.
Twenty-two, I said. Indiana.
Married? he said. Kids?
Yes, I said. No.
What’d you do? he said. For work?
Phone operator, I said. Waitressed a little.
Ever go anywhere? he said. Other than Indiana?
Ohio once, I said. They had the state fair over there.
How? he said. How’d you go?
Drove, I said.
No, how’d you die, dummy, he said.
Got blown up, I said.
Like, exploded? he said. Hoo boy. There’s one you don’t hear every day. Blown up. In Indiana.
Yes, I said.
By? he said.
Enemy of my husband’s, I said. By mistake.
Hold on, he said. You got blown up by mistake? By some enemy of your—He thought he was blowing up hubby and got you instead?
Correct, I said.
I waited for the cruel joke that must be forthcoming.
But his mind had drifted back to Dell.
Because he found me dull.
