—Jim Harrison Merle Haggard’s “Workin’ Man Blues” buzzed from busted speakers as Caleb pulled up the long driveway of his family’s ranch. His mother reached over his snoozing father to crank the window closed against the rising dust. Without air-conditioning, the truck cab sweltered in the summer heat. Caleb stopped at the front porch, and his mother squeezed his father’s arm, just above the faded Navy tattoo that said Heartbreaker. Caleb had gotten an identical tattoo one drunken night out alone after he’d found out his dad’s cancer had returned. “Dale, we’re home,” his mother whispered. His father woke up slowly, blinking and confused. This round of chemotherapy had left the burly man weak as a newborn deer. No one hated being feeble more than Dale MacKinnon. When Caleb got out of the truck to help, Dale ignored him and grabbed the handrail instead, each step slow but steady.
