Conversation Between Richard E. Roach and Ben McCord
“I’m like Rocky Balboa, a little thick headed, I guess. I don’t know much about Washington and printing money but I thinks the politicians may be hurting the value of our money. The main thing I’m happy about is to be out of The Big Thicket.”
“Did you have a rough time down there?”
“Boy! You ain’t kidding. I thought I’d die when PJ jerked that arrow out of my shoulder. We were lucky we weren’t both killed.”
“An arrow? How’d that come about?” Richard asked.
“Well . . . it’s a long story but I’m sure you’ve heard of Hannibal Lecter . . . ”
“Oh, yeah. He was a serial killer that liked human flesh.”
“Yeah, you’ve got him pegged. There’re all kinds of psychopaths and the guy I was dealing with was charming, disarming, a wonderful salesman, but his inside shadow was cold, and heartless as a mushroom. He thought everyone faked human emotions like him. He also fancied himself as an outdoors man. A real woodsman who could live off the land.”
“I know you and PJ showed him how real people deal with his weird and evil ways,” Richard said.
“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you what happened.”
“Sure I would, Ben. You wouldn’t lie to me.”
“No. You’ll just have to read SCATTERED LEAVES to find out what happened to the ungodly one.”
“Come on, Ben! You can tell me.”
“I can tell you this. He didn’t end up like Tony Soprano.”