Are You Relative To This??? Am I???

Ida Means (left), and her nephew Dorwin Means (right).

AFTER THE COWS COME HOME 

"Ain't no need da wade through them old pictures Ida."

"Ain't no need not to," Ida slung back at Dorwin. 

"Ya just gonna get down syndrome from it."

"This here picture is taken after the cows come home following 'at load of hay Grandpa Joe brought in on back o' his jalopy. Didn't even have 'tah saddle a horse." Frail fingers held the picture two inches from her eyes, refusing to wear glasses at "her young age of 98 years". 

Dorwin, done with the last of the dishes, came to sit down beside his aunt. Her frangible arm reached the picture out to Dorwin as he passed to his chair. He didn't need to look at it, but held it with both hands up to his view with implied interest as he plopped in his chair, and began the sequence of statements Ida wanted to hear. "Them dogs sure were something."

"Weren't none better in the county. Dang Jeb shouldn't shot Boo. Damn fool. Dog trumps a chicken. Damn fool."

Dorwin listened, talked at the appropriate times, just loving that his aunt Ida was still sitting there with him, telling her stories for the hundredth time, like a favorite bedtime story. Daylight dimmed through the linen curtains Ida had made years ago. Dark would be here like every night; at the end of the story, which always ended with, "and that was the best worst day of my life. When the cows come home followin' a truck. Grandpa Joe makin' it easy. No more hard riding or workin' the dogs. Yep, best worst day of my life."

In the twilight.