A Swimming Pool of Lemonade
I went to visit Indie last night. He is near the end. I hate to see him that way, but as always he is unconcerned.
“Bibey old boy, I saw a lot of hard times. I appreciate you seeing me through.”
“You always stuck by me too man.”
“You know, we saw a lot of tragedy, but I had a blessed life. If there was ever a Doc who played more music and had more fun than me, I’m happy for ’em.”
“I don’t think there was, Indie. That’s why I had to write the book. I wanted to show people how you dealt with adversity.”
“Yeah well I didn’t drink that much.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
Indie motioned towards Barney the skeleton. “Check his brain, Bibey.”
I opened the skull cap. “No Jim Beam?”
“Ran out. Just wanted to prove to you I could get by without him here at the end. How bout pouring me up an Arnold Palmer?”
“Half sweet tea, half lemonade?”
I poured him a cup and he sipped a bit. “Damn, Bibey. Almost as good a friend as Jimmy Beam.”
“Just like you Indie. You were dealt some bad luck at time. You always did make lemons out of lemonade.”
“Hell Bibey. I’m doing the backstroke in a swimming pool of it.”
“You’re right. You’re the best at I ever saw. Hey just in case, though, I’m gonna restock Barney.”
“Son, you always were my favorite. I’ll never forget you.”
“I ain’t ever gonna forget you either Indie. Matter of fact, I’m gonna be sure no one does.”
He laughed. “You keep splashing in the lemonade swimming pool after I’m gone, boy.”
Somehow I went to work today. It’s what Indie woulda done.
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