"What do you think you're doing? Dean yelled, waving the ticket in Fred's face when he returned from an evening of bingo. "We discussed this and I told you I was going alone!"
"We didn't discuss nothing," grumbled Fred. "You said you was going alone, so I guess I'm going alone too. It's as simple as that. It seems kinda silly, if you ask me, but it's your call."
Dean tried another approach. "Look, we've gone over and over this. There are guys out there that kill people. I can't be looking for them while I'm busy looking out for your hide."
"Seems to me it might be the other way around. You weren't there when them thugs followed me in Scranton and I made out pretty good, I'd say. You just look out for yourself and I'll do likewise."
"Where did you get the money? Don't tell me the slots at Atlantic City paid off again."
"They been kinda dry lately but I've got credit too, you know."
"Where will you stay and how will you get from one town to the next? Don't tell me you're riding a bike!"
"I'll do nothing of the kind! And I ain't staying in no skimpy little tent neither. While you're freezing your can off, I'll be in a nice warm bed. They're taking pretty good care of us senior volunteers." He said this with a smugness that didn't improve Dean's mood one iota. "We patrol the course," Fred continued, "work the rest stops-all that stuff. You gotta admit, it gives me a lot better chance of checking out the crowds for Byrne. You'll be working yourself ragged trying to get up them mountains, tailing behind 2,000 people. Your view won't exactly be conducive to identifying anyone. At least I'll get to look 'em in the face."
It was Dean's turn to grumble. "So when were you going to tell me all this?"
Fred smiled. "When it was too late for you to do something about it-about now."
"I'm not so sure about that," snarled Dean, knowing full well his threat was empty. "What do you propose to do about the house? Someone has to feed Mrs. Lincoln, pick up the paper and the mail..."
"Mrs. Porter's already signed up. She was tickled to get away from the Mister for a week. He don't like her watching her soaps." The old man then smiled the warmest smile Dean had seen in a long time. "Now, let's take a peek at your ticket and see if we're on the same flight." They were.
"Too bad you're not a senior citizen like me," chuckled Fred, looking at the price. "My ticket cost a whole lot less dough."