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Again, I waited.
Then I went to a hotel in Dallas.
Billy found me and brought me back.
This plan took a long time and this was unusual for me. I wasn’t the most patient of people, and I felt acutely that my life was ebbing away day by day, month by month, year by year. I had to see it through though, and I’m kind of stubborn so I kept at it.
It was the last time to leave Billy, a two-part end of the plan. I was going to go to the last place he thought I thought he wouldn’t look, knowing, like all the others when I’d left breadcrumbs, he’d eventually look. Then after he brought me back, I’d go there again, having set up the plan beforehand and getting help (I hoped) while I was at it.
Though things got kind of fucked up, mainly because Billy’s stink had settled on me, just like I’d feared.
See, it was then that I went to Denver.
I went to Uncle Tex.
And, unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it (I looked at it both ways—fortunately, because I’d remember it with bittersweet clarity for the rest of my life, and unfortunately because it would never last), it was then that I met Hank and my plan got totally fucked.
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