I couldn't get comfortable at all last night. The rising sun burns my eyes as I squint to survey my surroundings: endless rolling hills of ripening corn. I can sense the heat and the dust. Who knew hot dust has such a distinctive odor and taste? Once my eyes adjust to the light, I try to move my legs, but cannot. Looking down, I see they’re bound by twine. I’m wearing blue jeans and a tattered plaid shirt with the cuff buttons missing. Straw is poking out of my sleeves. I’m

My dad never let me come to Jasper’s with him, and that was likely ‘cause he didn’t want his boy to see him and his buddies turn into animals when they were boozing. Quickest way there, you walked out back of our house and hiked straight up the hill into the woods, then cut to the west until you mosey into a clearing, and there was Jasper’s place. The adults would drink in the garage, with the big door rolled up, the lights on, and music bursting from the surround sound spea