"Drunk again?" Ruby stood, blocking entrance at the backdoor of the house. They rented a small house in Berns Landing, which he was thinking of buying when he was old enough. The baby was coming upon what they told him would be his third year of life. He backed down the porch and climbed into his pickup truck and went to the hotel tavern. He was underage but the tavern manager accepted his false I.D.. Barry belonged in the bar where he had fun. His main thing was discussing the study he had made on the lifespan of living things with the other drinkers. "How long does a spruce tree live, Barry?" "Until I come along," he paused, "to cut down its decadent ass," he replied, wearing what he knew to be a sly looking wry smile. Raucous laughter would ensue.