For some unknown, biologically symmetrical reasoning, the grandsons carried the grandfather’s casket, each one holding a heavy rung, walking slowly up the slight, cemetery hill.

Kohlrabi, lilacs, rhubarb, asparagus.

Among those that stood to benefit financially, there were some who felt the father had deliberately set out in the middle of the night, when phoned by the friend in bed, to come to him to rub his painful bed sores. The relatives believed this massaging was a ruse.

Schweinhund means “pig dog.”

Rhubarb pie was often topped with meringue, an eggy confection, and was lightly scorched for effect, giving one the sense of softly burnt clouds.

The elderly man strung a piece of rusted wire across his yard, tree to tree, to stop people from crossing it. One Halloween night, a child ran across the yard in an Arab mask and flew off of the ground. The wire being at neck level. For two weeks, at the Catholic school, the boy bore the scar across his throat, proudly, openly, as if he were Jesus.