He grabbed hold of the rung in front of his face and held tight until the dizzying fear of falling passed. “Lord, don’t let me get struck by lightning,” he petitioned the great bearded Father who ruled heaven and earth and tossed down lightning bolts the way kids chucked rocks. “I got to finish cleaning out these gutters or Aunt Mattie’ll skin me for sure.” With a wary glance to the cloud-dark sky, he continued his climb and stopped when he reached the corrugated gutter running the length of the side of the house. He’d already cleaned the pine straw, dirt and leaves from the other gutters affixed to the eaves of the roof, and he knew he couldn’t quit until the job was done. He still remembered the two Golden Rules his father had drilled into him as a boy: “A place for everything, and everything in its place,” and “If you do a job, do it right. A half-assed job ain’t no job atall.” Corny didn’t know if it was true that the dead watched over the living, the way some folks said, but if Big Bill Weehunt was keeping an eye on him, he didn’t want to disappoint the old railroad man, so he had to clean out this last stretch of gutter before the storm hit.
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