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Five. A curve in the road—the car went straight, and just like that, he was on his own.
Four. First time he bedded Alma. Told himself it was just wedding-night jitters that kept him from wanting it like he should have. Inside her, he thought of skies that poured hail big as a man’s fist and came with a groan.
Three. He held that tiny thing in his arms, felt it question him with big, unreadable eyes. “Hey there, Junior,” he mumbled. “M’your daddy.”
Two. Four years gone and no way to get them back. Went searching for them in Jack’s body, and what he found was what he’d left there and thought to never see again.
One. Deceased.