Martin finished with his dump then ventured back outside where everyone waited. They weren’t waiting for him, he knew that, but he pretended they were. He walked up to Ronnie, who always wore a red-and-white baseball cap backwards.
“What’s happening,” said Martin.
Ronnie turned. “Nothing, why?”
Everyone else was there, along with Ronnie and now Martin, who had taken his dump and showed up with the others. No one had been waiting for him, but he pretended they were. He looked at Martin.
“I don’t know about you but I’m starved. What’s to eat?”
Ronnie stared a moment.
Martin smiled and stared back.
“Do I know you?” said Ronnie.
Martin looked at the others, who hadn’t heard anything. He said, “I don’t know you, that’s for sure, but who says I have to.”
Ronnie lowered his gaze. “Tell me this is a joke.”
“It is,” Martin said. “It’s all a big joke and you caught on just fine. I took a dump a few minutes ago and saw you all over here and thought I would make my way, what with the smell of the food and all. What’s your name again?”
“I never gave it to you,” said Ronnie, his gaze still lowered and forming into a frown.
“Oh,” Martin said, “you’re right, absolutely right. I’m Martin.” He extended his hand to Ronnie who stood motionless, his frowning gaze unfaltering.
“You should go,” said Ronnie.
Martin diminished his smile and returned his unshaken hand to his side. “Right. Absolutely I should.”
Martin retreated from Ronnie and the others, still smelling the food, which made his stomach growl. It would be a long time before he’d take another dump.
Jeffrey S. Callico once again works his wizardry with words.
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