I didn't have a chance to verbalize that notion, for Dave went on and on, beating himself up. It was sadly apparent what Dave's problem was here, and ...hat was the primary source of his animosity toward me. He'd forgotten all about my blow-up and his ruined drums, or had at least relegated them to a secondary concern. His big issue now was achievement-related jealousy, in a specific sense. But more generally, it was a deep sense of personal inadequacy. This had been his handicap in the other. The day outside the doorway he was standing in was very gray and bleak as rain was still bucketing down from the heavens.“What the f...” the man started to say but never got to finish.“You heard me fella! Git your sorry ass outa here or I’ll blow yuh head off!”Those very demanding words were coming from a little mound of oilskin that resembled a raincoat standing only ten feet away in the pouring rain. Sticking out of that crumpled old oilskin raincoat was the barrel of some sort of shotgun. More

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