He could see the light from the television shine across the smooth bald head. ‘Mr Riggs?’ he called out. ‘Mr Riggs?’ Geoff Riggs turned his head slowly and waved Duke back to the house. He lumbered out of his armchair and walked to the front door, throwing it open. Today was a happy drinking day. ‘Hey, Mr Riggs. Donnie around?’ said Duke. ‘Thought he was with you down at the creek.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ said Duke slowly. ‘I was supposed to meet him there. Sorry to get you up.’ ‘Don’t worry. Need the exercise, son,’ he said, waving the remote control at him. Duke walked down the path and through the trees. He called out, but got no reply. He finally found Donnie lying under a cottonwood by the creek, legs pulled to his chest, skinny feet sticking out of his tight navy jeans. He was asleep. ‘Hey, buddy,’ said Duke, bending down, pulling gently at his foot. Donnie woke up slowly, rolling onto his back, rubbing at the dust that stuck to his cheek. ‘Didn’t you make it home last night?’ asked Duke.
