He smiled to himself thinking that he was probably the only person in the state who knew who Herbert Khaury was. The yellowed newspaper clipping hung in a simple frame behind the bar next to an advertisement for "Grain Belt Beer". Herbert had agreed to do a benefit concert to raise money for the school. When he arrived in Antler back in February of 1983, the thermometer indicated -22 degrees, but the townfolk loved him and he referred to them as "the warmest people around". Some said that "he made history for the town" and they gave him the "key to the city". Nobody could sing "Tip Toe Through the Tulips" like Herbert Khaury.

By the time that they rode into Antler he was wore out and his hip burned with pain. One of the first buildings coming into town was the "Cabin Bar and Grill". The whole front entrance had been obliterated by some force. You could see the whole length of the interior from front to back. He slid off Fireball, took off the two sacks hanging from her withers, and dumped out a quart of grain for her on the concrete slab in front of the building. She eagerly began to consume it. He also took the two pairs of boots and tossed them over by a bench that sat in front of the building. The inside of the building had hardly been damaged. The polished mirror behind the bar reflected a collection of colorful liquor bottles. A row of tables and chairs ran along the opposite wall towards the back where a pool table sat. Deer heads and fish mounts hung on the walls. A chalkboard advertised the daily food special. Barbequed ribs, potato salad, vegetable, apple desert and bun for $19. He walked about halfway towards the back and stood facing the bar. He put his left leg up on one of the chairs, bent forward and stretched the muscles in his lower back. It seemed to help relieve the pain in his hip. He surveyed the selection of bottles behind the bar and his eyes lit on one that said "Bloody Butcher Gypsy Shine"....pot distilled heirloom corn whiskey made in Napoleon Ohio. He walked around the end of the bar and sat a bourbon glass on its polished surface. He grabbed the bottle of "Bloody Butcher" from the shelf, twisted the cap off, and carefully poured a full shot into the glass. He sat the bottle down on the bar, lifted the glass, and said to the empty chair across from him, "Here's to you friend..for all the shit that you've been through..this one's on the house"! He limped back around the end of the bar and took a seat in one of the swiveling chairs. He hoisted the glass, and to the empty space across the bar said, "I'll drink to that"! He downed the shot with a tilt of the head and a quick snap of the wrist. It made his eyes squint, furrowed his brow and took his breath away momentarily. He felt the warmth of the whiskey course it's way from his mouth to his belly. His body relaxed. It was pleasantly cool inside and the dimness felt good on his eyes after being outside in the sun all day. He poured himself another and sat looking in the mirror behind the bar. He had lost a noticeable amount of weight. His hair and beard had grown long and there was a dark hollowness to his eyes. There would be no going back now, he thought. He was on his own. After the altercation with the two "Abettors" he certainly wouldn't be welcomed back into the group. He was sure that kicking in the teeth of an "Abettor" would be considered unacceptable behavior. He thought that they might like to execute him. He pondered if he could be be killed now even though he had made it into paradise? Was he immortal now? He chuckled to himself and thought "that's one of those existential type questions." But that was fine with him. He despised their little class system anyway and he had had his fill of the privileged "seers" and disposing of dead bodies. He still could not get his head wrapped around exactly what had happened that day. Wasn't there supposed to be throngs of happy smiling people, picnic tables laden with fruit and someone playing guitar music? The aftermath was turning out not to be anything that he had been led to believe. If these were the actions of a " loving god" he sure wouldn't want to be around on the day that he was pissed off.

He glanced towards the entrance and saw that Fireball must have wandered off. He finished his shot and thought how wonderfully numb it made him feel. He found a box of plastic bags that the owners must have used to put take-out orders in. He put the whiskey and the glass in the bag along with a few packages of beer nuts, Blue Ox teriyaki beef jerky , and a handful of Slim Jims. There was also a stack of disposable plastic bowls and spoons under the bar. He took a few of those. From the cooler he grabbed four cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer and put those in the sack also. Sure, it was better ice cold but warm beer was better than no beer, he thought. His watch showed that it was a little after 4:00...time, he thought, to start looking for a place to spend the night. On his way out, he took from the wall an antique string of sleigh bells. They were fastened to a thin leather strap with a simple buckle at one end and a series of holes punched in the other. He liked the sound that they made when he shook them. He sat on the bench outside and took off one of his boots. He had noticed that those of the youngest "Abettor" looked to be about his size. He slipped his foot in and they fit well. They were much more comfortable than those he had been wearing.

Fireball had wandered north towards the town square. There was a lush patch of grass there that she was contentedly grazing in. In the center of the square stood an old two story building with arched windows and stamped metal siding. It had served most notably in the past as the town's post office. Across the street to the east was the IOOF building....the International Order of Odd Fellows. Across the street to the west was a two story building that once housed McLaughlin's Store. There was a unique pentagonal window on the southeast corner of the second floor. A large plate glass window ran across the front on the first floor. Looking through the window he thought that it must have been used as an apartment most recently. There was a very comfortable looking sectional couch that faced the window on the inside. This looked like a good place to spend the night, he thought. The door was slightly ajar and he walked inside and set the plastic bag of items, and the things that he had brought on a coffee table in front of the couch. Fireball had stuck her head inside through the open door. "I know what you want old girl" he smiled. He dug through the feed sack and held out two of the sugar cubes which she happily took from his open hand. He had also grabbed the string of sleigh bells and held it out for her to inspect. She nosed it and it made a faint jingling sound. Her ears snapped forward but she didn't seem frightened. He slowly fastened it around her neck. He took a step back, saluted her and said, "For heroic actions performed above and beyond the call of duty, I bestow on you, for all to see, this distinguished award, for bravery in defense of freedom and truth". She shook her head and mane and the bells made a beautiful melodic sound.

The sun had gone below the horizon now. He sat on the couch staring out the large pane glass window in the twilight of early evening. The bottle of whiskey and two empty Pabst cans sat on the coffee table. He was so relieved to have escaped the insanity that he had lived these past few weeks. He felt so comfortable and relaxed sitting here on this soft couch. His eyes grew heavy, and his head began to nod. The whiskey glass slipped from his hand as he mumbled the words to a song, "Knee deep in flowers we'll stray..We'll keep the showers away..And if I kiss you in the garden, in the moonlight..Will you pardon me?..And tiptoe through the tulips with me".