Then he sat down with Kelly and me in the living room and we got started. “So, how does this work?” I asked.“Think of this as a really long interview process. I am going to ask you a lot of questions and I want you to give me your history in as much detail as possible. I have some questions already figured out, but a lot of them will depend on answers in earlier questions.”“Are you going to take notes or something?” asked Kelly.He smiled and pulled a tablet computer out of a computer case he had brought in. He set that on the coffee table and turned it on. “Yes, I’m going to take notes, but I am also going to record our conversations. You’ve already signed the release on this, just like I’ve signed the Non-Disclosure Agreement. Trust me, after a few minutes you won’t even notice it’s here. It will pick everything just up like your cell phone can pick things up.”“Oh.” Kelly looked at me and shrugged. I shrugged back. I sort of felt the same way. I still wasn’t buying that anybody. The campfire was an altar of recessed concrete, surrounded by a circle of deadfall. Everyone gathered with twigs to skewer marshmallows and weenies. Candy began a cowboy ditty in a slightly mournful tenor. Everyone heard cowboy talent but I heard queer pain. He sang about getting doggies along and a trail made lonelier by a cowboy’s lost love. Everyone heard passion but I I heard longing.I wanted to alleviate that longing—if only for a little while, and I wanted to give him a measure of comfort—no matter how my time with him turned out. But I was getting ahead of myself, and I knew that doing so, could lead to unimaginable pain. So, I reevaluated Candy’s invitation and pulled on the reigns. Besides, I really did want to try some more of that weed.A short, red-clay road gradually rose from the ranch to a stony roundabout that sat on a mound and ended in front of Candy’s cabin. Sitting between two massive boulders, his cabin sat on the mound in a way that paralleled his solitary.
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