BROKEN CROSSINGS
Penny sat on the porch swing looking across the road to the railroad crossing. The wooden gate was broken again, Splinters of red and white paint littered the street as if confetti fell from a pinata struck by a long stick. But the confetti wasn’t from a celebration. There was an accident. Penny just stared at the tracks. A light flashed red and an alarm sounded in the distance. Trains can’t run today, she thought.
“Penelope!” Grandma’s voice boomed through the air as she threw open the screen door. “I’ve been calling you.”
Penny turned her head slowly. Her thoughts were still with the broken crossing.
“That dang bull got out from the barn again. Your grandpa’s gonna have to fix that door.”
“Lincoln’s out?” Penny hopped off the swing with fury and ran behind the house. “Where’d he go?”
Grandma waddled behind, wiping her hands with the dish towel she was holding. “I just heard the calves at the back door again. Wrangled them into the pen. But I can’t find that bull you keep.”
“Grandma, he’s-”
“I know; he’s like a dog to you.”
Penny had moved into her grandparents farmhouse after her mother died. She wanted something to remind her of home, but her grandmother would not allow a dog in the house. Penny was helping her grandfather care for his cows one day and Lincoln took a liking to her. He was the biggest bull in the herd. He nuzzled up to her neck as she ran a brush along his hide. And when she took a walk into the woods far behind the house, he always walked to her left hand side, even without the rope she used when she first started training him.
But there were days when the barn felt stuffy and the stench from the cows was too much for Lincoln. He often pushed the door open and looked in Penny’s window so she would take a walk to the creek in the woods.
Penny ran out of audible range while Grandma still griped about Lincoln. She didn’t bother to put shoes on her feet. Her pigtails whipped at her face with every hurried step. Lincoln was not on the trail she usually took walks. He was not down by the creek. Penny splashed in the water looking in all directions. She looked at the water to see if there were ripples showing which way he could have gone. She had never known the woods to be so still. She had never known the trees and water to be so quiet. Penny refused to cry, but dug her toes deeper into the muck and walked toward the sparser brush.
A shotgun pierced the silence. Penny’s heart shook within her chest and she allowed a tear to fall along her cheek.
Penny’s voice squeaked out, “Mr. Gelande?”
Mr. Gelande was always hunting in the woods. He told Penny several times to get a bright jacket so that he saw her when she was playing deep in the trees. He also told her that Lincoln should be cut into steaks and no child should have a bull as a pet.
The woods were still again.
Penny climbed out from the creek and walked along the trail home, noticing any movement around her.
“Get your keyster in here!” Grandma was standing at the back door and spanked Penny’s bottom as she walked through the threshold. “You can’t run off every time that dang bull goes missing!” I told your grandpa it’s not a proper pet.
Penny sunk into a kitchen chair and listened to Grandma without hearing any of her words.
“He’ll come back, right?”
Grandma turned and saw Penny was distraught. “Oh sweetpea.” Grandma sat in a chair next to Penny and lifted her chin so their eyes met. “You’re just like your mom.”
Penny smiled faintly. “It’s just he never left far enough away that I can’t find him.”
“When Grandpa gets back, I’ll tell him to drive you around in the truck, okay?”
Penny nodded and walked with slumped shoulders to the front porch again.
She sat on the steps, holding her face between her hands, again looking to the broken crossing.
“I thought I saw you in the woods?” Mr. Gelande walked to the steps holding his shotgun in one hand and two dead rabbits hanging by their ears in the other.
“I was looking for Lincoln.”
“Your grandpop told me you aught not play in the woods. Not when huntin’ season is on.” Mr. Gelande looked at Penny hard.
Penny stared back and said, “My grandpa said you aught not hunt in those woods. He said it’s too close to where people live.”
“Yeah; well, your grandpop can mind his business,” Mr. Gelande walked to his home. While he was walking the steps to the porch, Penny’s grandfather pulled his pick-up truck next to the house.
Grandpa asked Penny as he slammed the door to the truck, “Crossing’s broken again?”
Penny nodded. She said softly, “Lincoln got out. I can’t find him.”
“You don’t think he broke the crossing?”
Penny looked horrified. “Did he get hit by the train?”
“You need to make steaks out of that damned thing!” Mr. Gelande still was minding his neighbor’s business.
“Keep quiet. What’cha doin’ skinnin’ them on the front porch anyway?”
“Grandpa? Is Lincoln gonna be okay?”
“I think so. He’s a stubborn bull. Just like his girl.” Grandpa winked at Penny.
Sirens sounded in the distance. The red lights on the crossing blinked out momentarily and then resumed flashing. A white truck with orange lights pulled up onto the crossing. A signal technician nodded to Grandpa and Penny before pulling ‘caution’ tape to cordon off the unsafe area.
“Why don’t you go do your chores?” Grandpa squeezed Penny’s shoulders. “After I get cleaned up, we can go looking for your bull.”
Penny nodded and went into the house to pull boots on her feet. When her grandparents agreed to let her keep Lincoln as a pet and not food, she was told to clean up the barn and fill the food and water troughs for the cattle.
Penny found her grandmother filling the cattle trough with water. “You’re doing my chores?”
“You could use a break. You’re too young for all this work.”
“I’m twelve. Mama said you used to make her milk the cows.”
“Right we did.” Grandma handed Penny the bucket to fill it from the spigot behind the house.
Grandpa walked to the pen where the cattle were grazing.
“You’re gonna have to fix that barn door again. Dang bull got out again,” Grandma growled.
Grandpa nodded. “You’re not gonna believe what broke up the crossroad out there.”
“Penny’s been looking at the mess all day. Damned memory of her mom. I wish we didn’t live right ‘cross from the accident.”
Grandpa pulled his wife’s hand into his. “If we ain’t live here, they’d have no use coming over the road there.”
“And if we ain’t live here, my daughter’d still be alive,” Grandma sighed. “That damned Joe too. He had to always try to beat that arm.”
“Let’s not talk about that now,” Grandpa squeezed Grandma’s hand.
Penny put the bucket down on the ground. “Can you take me now to find Lincoln?”
“I was just telling your Grandma,” Grandpa squated next to Penny. “You’re not gonna believe what broke that crossing.” His eyes pulled the smile across his face. “Well, I don’t know if it broke the crossing, but the train is stopped right now because a cow’s on the track.”
“Lincoln?”
Grandpa shrugged. “I’ll ride along Roseline Road and you see if you spot him.”
Penny threw her arms around Grandpa’s neck.
Grandma muttered, “Dang bull.”
“Lemmee get cleaned up and we’ll go,” Grandpa said.
Penny ran around the house and sat on the porch again.
“What happened here?” A man with whom Penny was familiar leaned up against the porch.
Hobo Joe smelled like the open air and dirty clothes. Penny talked to him when he walked past the house. HIs face was familiar and Penny was well aware of who he was. Neither acknowledged they knew each other besides the porch talks.
“Ya’ll can’t stand here. We got a crew comin’ in to fix this,” the signal technician declared.
Hobo Joe turned and asked, “What happened?”
“I should hold a news conference. You got any other neighbors that need to know?”
Hobo Joe balled his fist at his side in annoyance. “No need to be rude fella.”
“You’re right buddy.” The signal technician sighed heavily and then turned to Hobo Joe. “Something triggered the gate and while it was down, something else crashed through it.”
Hobo Joe asked, “Not the same thing?”
“If you look down the tracks,” the signal tech walked over the ties.
Penny called from the porch steps, “You shouldn’t walk on the tracks!”
“Trains are shut down for now little lady!”
Penny growled, “Accidents ain’t on purpose.”
Hobo Joe smiled faintly at the little girl while the signal tech explained his supposition of the occurrences leading to the broken crossing.
Penny looked at Hobo Joe and said, “Grandpa said there’s a cow on the tracks. I think it might be Lincoln.”
“You really love that cow, don’t ya?”
Penny put her hand over Hobo Joe’s fingers and said, “He always comes home for me.”
Hobo Joe teared up. He pulled away from Penny’s grasp. “You think your grandma has another meatloaf sandwich in there for me?”
Penny stood and walked to the front door and then turned to ask, “Will you have lunch on the porch with me?”
“Got the time. Nowhere to go ‘til they fix the train.”
Grandpa pushed the porch door open hard. “I told ya before; leave my girl alone.”
“She’s-” Hobo Joe stopped himself from saying anything more about Penny.
“Grandpa! I asked him to have lunch with me!”
“He don’t decide when he comes ‘round and when he don’t,” Grandpa screamed as his face turned hot with rage. “Ain’t right; young girl bein’ friends wit’ a bum.”
“He’s not a bum,” Penny cried.
“Well, he ain’t your friend,” Grandpa insisted.
Penny went in the house while Grandpa walked to talk to Hobo Joe quietly.
“It hurts to see you around here,” he began. “You kill my girl, then leave your own.” Grandpa’s words were harsh and his voice was stern although a low growl so no one but Hobo Joe could hear.
Hobo Joe rubbed his fingertips along his forehead. “I didn’t -,” he said and then choked back tears before continuing. “I didn’t mean to.” He still couldn’t finish his thoughts aloud.
“Oh hell Joe, I know you didn’t mean to. But what wasn’t an accident was leaving Penny.” Grandpa sat on the steps with the same body language that Penny sat looking at the crossing. “You know every time you come ‘round, that girl gets happy.”
“Happy’s good. She deserves to be-”
Grandpa interrupted. “She gets happy and then crashes with sadness again. She lost her mom once but loses her dad every time you decide to leave again.” The air was silent.
Hobo Joe stroked his beard and held tears back. “Maybe I won’t come back.”
Penny burst through the door with a paper plate holding three meatloaf sandwiches. She handed one to Hobo Joe and one to Grandpa. “I also made you a pack to take with you.” Penny ran back into the house and returned with a brown grocery bag of food.
Hobo Joe nodded. He knew his voice would give away the sorrow he was feeling.
Penny sat between the two men and ate her sandwich. “Grandpa, if someone like Mr. Gelande shoots Lincoln, you think they’ll make meatloaf out of him?”
“No one’s shootin’ that bull. Stop talkin’ like that.” Grandpa looked at his sandwich and put it on the plate.
“Well, not everyone knows he’s a pet. He looks like food to some people,” Penny said. “Those rabbits that was in Mr. Gelande’s hands today looked like Aunt Peggy’s pet bunny.”
Grandpa called out so his neighbor could hear, “Mr. Gelande aught not be huntin’ in those woods behind my farm. Walkin’ around with dead animals in front of my girl.”
“It’s okay grandpa. Their reason is food.”
“What?”
“Lincoln’s reason is my friend. He kinda makes me strong. But those rabbits are food, and they’ll make Mr. Gelande and his family strong. Being alive and being dead are just different kinds of strong.” Penny sighed and ate the rest of her sandwich.
Grandpa looked to the rail tracks. “You know Penny, that right there is called a crossroads.”
Penny nodded.
“And there’s a saying that people are at crossroads when they have to think about important things. Make important decisions.”
“Is that why you and Grandma live here?”
“No. The train line made it easier for people to come work for us.” Grandpa nudged Penny’s knee with his. “When we had enough work for people to work for us.”
“You think my dad made the wrong decision to drive over the railroad? You think his crossroad was broken?”
Grandpa looked to Hobo Joe and pursed his lips. He wrapped his arm around Penny’s shoulder and kissed her head. “Nah. Drivin’ don’t work like that. And what’s your grandma say? Accidents ain’t on purpose.”
“You think my dad thinks about his crossroad?” Penny looked up at Hobo Joe and quickly looked to her feet.
“Hard to tell,” Grandpa said and then stood so he could pull a handkerchief from his back pocket to blow his nose.
An alarm sounded and Penny noticed that the gate was repaired. The Technician was testing the mobility of the mechanics and talking on his walkie talkie to another voice muffled by the device. He called out, “You said that might be your cow?”
Penny ran to the rail tracks. “You found Lincoln?”
The signal technician pushed the button, “Yeah, bring ‘im to the crossing.”
When Lincoln caught sight of Penny, he pulled the technician to the tracks and bounded to the crossing. Rearing up on his hind legs, he dashed through the newly repaired gate and bucked up in a circle in front of the house leaving two patties. Penny squealed in delight and then gave him a hand signal that calmed his mood.
Grandpa pointed to Lincoln and spoke to Penny, “Go put ‘im in the pen and get the shovel to clean this up.”
Mr. Gelande called from his porch, “You makin’ that little girl clean that up?”
Grandpa turned and yelled, “You still mindin’ your neighbor’s business?”
He turned back to Hobo Joe and said, “You know sometimes folks sit and think about broken crossings and sometimes, folks gotta clean up bull shit.”
Penny sat on the porch swing looking across the road to the railroad crossing. The wooden gate was broken again, Splinters of red and white paint littered the street as if confetti fell from a pinata struck by a long stick. But the confetti wasn’t from a celebration. There was an accident. Penny just stared at the tracks. A light flashed red and an alarm sounded in the distance. Trains can’t run today, she thought.
“Penelope!” Grandma’s voice boomed through the air as she threw open the screen door. “I’ve been calling you.”
Penny turned her head slowly. Her thoughts were still with the broken crossing.
“That dang bull got out from the barn again. Your grandpa’s gonna have to fix that door.”
“Lincoln’s out?” Penny hopped off the swing with fury and ran behind the house. “Where’d he go?”
Grandma waddled behind, wiping her hands with the dish towel she was holding. “I just heard the calves at the back door again. Wrangled them into the pen. But I can’t find that bull you keep.”
“Grandma, he’s-”
“I know; he’s like a dog to you.”
Penny had moved into her grandparents farmhouse after her mother died. She wanted something to remind her of home, but her grandmother would not allow a dog in the house. Penny was helping her grandfather care for his cows one day and Lincoln took a liking to her. He was the biggest bull in the herd. He nuzzled up to her neck as she ran a brush along his hide. And when she took a walk into the woods far behind the house, he always walked to her left hand side, even without the rope she used when she first started training him.
But there were days when the barn felt stuffy and the stench from the cows was too much for Lincoln. He often pushed the door open and looked in Penny’s window so she would take a walk to the creek in the woods.
Penny ran out of audible range while Grandma still griped about Lincoln. She didn’t bother to put shoes on her feet. Her pigtails whipped at her face with every hurried step. Lincoln was not on the trail she usually took walks. He was not down by the creek. Penny splashed in the water looking in all directions. She looked at the water to see if there were ripples showing which way he could have gone. She had never known the woods to be so still. She had never known the trees and water to be so quiet. Penny refused to cry, but dug her toes deeper into the muck and walked toward the sparser brush.
A shotgun pierced the silence. Penny’s heart shook within her chest and she allowed a tear to fall along her cheek.
Penny’s voice squeaked out, “Mr. Gelande?”
Mr. Gelande was always hunting in the woods. He told Penny several times to get a bright jacket so that he saw her when she was playing deep in the trees. He also told her that Lincoln should be cut into steaks and no child should have a bull as a pet.
The woods were still again.
Penny climbed out from the creek and walked along the trail home, noticing any movement around her.
“Get your keyster in here!” Grandma was standing at the back door and spanked Penny’s bottom as she walked through the threshold. “You can’t run off every time that dang bull goes missing!” I told your grandpa it’s not a proper pet.
Penny sunk into a kitchen chair and listened to Grandma without hearing any of her words.
“He’ll come back, right?”
Grandma turned and saw Penny was distraught. “Oh sweetpea.” Grandma sat in a chair next to Penny and lifted her chin so their eyes met. “You’re just like your mom.”
Penny smiled faintly. “It’s just he never left far enough away that I can’t find him.”
“When Grandpa gets back, I’ll tell him to drive you around in the truck, okay?”
Penny nodded and walked with slumped shoulders to the front porch again.
She sat on the steps, holding her face between her hands, again looking to the broken crossing.
“I thought I saw you in the woods?” Mr. Gelande walked to the steps holding his shotgun in one hand and two dead rabbits hanging by their ears in the other.
“I was looking for Lincoln.”
“Your grandpop told me you aught not play in the woods. Not when huntin’ season is on.” Mr. Gelande looked at Penny hard.
Penny stared back and said, “My grandpa said you aught not hunt in those woods. He said it’s too close to where people live.”
“Yeah; well, your grandpop can mind his business,” Mr. Gelande walked to his home. While he was walking the steps to the porch, Penny’s grandfather pulled his pick-up truck next to the house.
Grandpa asked Penny as he slammed the door to the truck, “Crossing’s broken again?”
Penny nodded. She said softly, “Lincoln got out. I can’t find him.”
“You don’t think he broke the crossing?”
Penny looked horrified. “Did he get hit by the train?”
“You need to make steaks out of that damned thing!” Mr. Gelande still was minding his neighbor’s business.
“Keep quiet. What’cha doin’ skinnin’ them on the front porch anyway?”
“Grandpa? Is Lincoln gonna be okay?”
“I think so. He’s a stubborn bull. Just like his girl.” Grandpa winked at Penny.
Sirens sounded in the distance. The red lights on the crossing blinked out momentarily and then resumed flashing. A white truck with orange lights pulled up onto the crossing. A signal technician nodded to Grandpa and Penny before pulling ‘caution’ tape to cordon off the unsafe area.
“Why don’t you go do your chores?” Grandpa squeezed Penny’s shoulders. “After I get cleaned up, we can go looking for your bull.”
Penny nodded and went into the house to pull boots on her feet. When her grandparents agreed to let her keep Lincoln as a pet and not food, she was told to clean up the barn and fill the food and water troughs for the cattle.
Penny found her grandmother filling the cattle trough with water. “You’re doing my chores?”
“You could use a break. You’re too young for all this work.”
“I’m twelve. Mama said you used to make her milk the cows.”
“Right we did.” Grandma handed Penny the bucket to fill it from the spigot behind the house.
Grandpa walked to the pen where the cattle were grazing.
“You’re gonna have to fix that barn door again. Dang bull got out again,” Grandma growled.
Grandpa nodded. “You’re not gonna believe what broke up the crossroad out there.”
“Penny’s been looking at the mess all day. Damned memory of her mom. I wish we didn’t live right ‘cross from the accident.”
Grandpa pulled his wife’s hand into his. “If we ain’t live here, they’d have no use coming over the road there.”
“And if we ain’t live here, my daughter’d still be alive,” Grandma sighed. “That damned Joe too. He had to always try to beat that arm.”
“Let’s not talk about that now,” Grandpa squeezed Grandma’s hand.
Penny put the bucket down on the ground. “Can you take me now to find Lincoln?”
“I was just telling your Grandma,” Grandpa squated next to Penny. “You’re not gonna believe what broke that crossing.” His eyes pulled the smile across his face. “Well, I don’t know if it broke the crossing, but the train is stopped right now because a cow’s on the track.”
“Lincoln?”
Grandpa shrugged. “I’ll ride along Roseline Road and you see if you spot him.”
Penny threw her arms around Grandpa’s neck.
Grandma muttered, “Dang bull.”
“Lemmee get cleaned up and we’ll go,” Grandpa said.
Penny ran around the house and sat on the porch again.
“What happened here?” A man with whom Penny was familiar leaned up against the porch.
Hobo Joe smelled like the open air and dirty clothes. Penny talked to him when he walked past the house. HIs face was familiar and Penny was well aware of who he was. Neither acknowledged they knew each other besides the porch talks.
“Ya’ll can’t stand here. We got a crew comin’ in to fix this,” the signal technician declared.
Hobo Joe turned and asked, “What happened?”
“I should hold a news conference. You got any other neighbors that need to know?”
Hobo Joe balled his fist at his side in annoyance. “No need to be rude fella.”
“You’re right buddy.” The signal technician sighed heavily and then turned to Hobo Joe. “Something triggered the gate and while it was down, something else crashed through it.”
Hobo Joe asked, “Not the same thing?”
“If you look down the tracks,” the signal tech walked over the ties.
Penny called from the porch steps, “You shouldn’t walk on the tracks!”
“Trains are shut down for now little lady!”
Penny growled, “Accidents ain’t on purpose.”
Hobo Joe smiled faintly at the little girl while the signal tech explained his supposition of the occurrences leading to the broken crossing.
Penny looked at Hobo Joe and said, “Grandpa said there’s a cow on the tracks. I think it might be Lincoln.”
“You really love that cow, don’t ya?”
Penny put her hand over Hobo Joe’s fingers and said, “He always comes home for me.”
Hobo Joe teared up. He pulled away from Penny’s grasp. “You think your grandma has another meatloaf sandwich in there for me?”
Penny stood and walked to the front door and then turned to ask, “Will you have lunch on the porch with me?”
“Got the time. Nowhere to go ‘til they fix the train.”
Grandpa pushed the porch door open hard. “I told ya before; leave my girl alone.”
“She’s-” Hobo Joe stopped himself from saying anything more about Penny.
“Grandpa! I asked him to have lunch with me!”
“He don’t decide when he comes ‘round and when he don’t,” Grandpa screamed as his face turned hot with rage. “Ain’t right; young girl bein’ friends wit’ a bum.”
“He’s not a bum,” Penny cried.
“Well, he ain’t your friend,” Grandpa insisted.
Penny went in the house while Grandpa walked to talk to Hobo Joe quietly.
“It hurts to see you around here,” he began. “You kill my girl, then leave your own.” Grandpa’s words were harsh and his voice was stern although a low growl so no one but Hobo Joe could hear.
Hobo Joe rubbed his fingertips along his forehead. “I didn’t -,” he said and then choked back tears before continuing. “I didn’t mean to.” He still couldn’t finish his thoughts aloud.
“Oh hell Joe, I know you didn’t mean to. But what wasn’t an accident was leaving Penny.” Grandpa sat on the steps with the same body language that Penny sat looking at the crossing. “You know every time you come ‘round, that girl gets happy.”
“Happy’s good. She deserves to be-”
Grandpa interrupted. “She gets happy and then crashes with sadness again. She lost her mom once but loses her dad every time you decide to leave again.” The air was silent.
Hobo Joe stroked his beard and held tears back. “Maybe I won’t come back.”
Penny burst through the door with a paper plate holding three meatloaf sandwiches. She handed one to Hobo Joe and one to Grandpa. “I also made you a pack to take with you.” Penny ran back into the house and returned with a brown grocery bag of food.
Hobo Joe nodded. He knew his voice would give away the sorrow he was feeling.
Penny sat between the two men and ate her sandwich. “Grandpa, if someone like Mr. Gelande shoots Lincoln, you think they’ll make meatloaf out of him?”
“No one’s shootin’ that bull. Stop talkin’ like that.” Grandpa looked at his sandwich and put it on the plate.
“Well, not everyone knows he’s a pet. He looks like food to some people,” Penny said. “Those rabbits that was in Mr. Gelande’s hands today looked like Aunt Peggy’s pet bunny.”
Grandpa called out so his neighbor could hear, “Mr. Gelande aught not be huntin’ in those woods behind my farm. Walkin’ around with dead animals in front of my girl.”
“It’s okay grandpa. Their reason is food.”
“What?”
“Lincoln’s reason is my friend. He kinda makes me strong. But those rabbits are food, and they’ll make Mr. Gelande and his family strong. Being alive and being dead are just different kinds of strong.” Penny sighed and ate the rest of her sandwich.
Grandpa looked to the rail tracks. “You know Penny, that right there is called a crossroads.”
Penny nodded.
“And there’s a saying that people are at crossroads when they have to think about important things. Make important decisions.”
“Is that why you and Grandma live here?”
“No. The train line made it easier for people to come work for us.” Grandpa nudged Penny’s knee with his. “When we had enough work for people to work for us.”
“You think my dad made the wrong decision to drive over the railroad? You think his crossroad was broken?”
Grandpa looked to Hobo Joe and pursed his lips. He wrapped his arm around Penny’s shoulder and kissed her head. “Nah. Drivin’ don’t work like that. And what’s your grandma say? Accidents ain’t on purpose.”
“You think my dad thinks about his crossroad?” Penny looked up at Hobo Joe and quickly looked to her feet.
“Hard to tell,” Grandpa said and then stood so he could pull a handkerchief from his back pocket to blow his nose.
An alarm sounded and Penny noticed that the gate was repaired. The Technician was testing the mobility of the mechanics and talking on his walkie talkie to another voice muffled by the device. He called out, “You said that might be your cow?”
Penny ran to the rail tracks. “You found Lincoln?”
The signal technician pushed the button, “Yeah, bring ‘im to the crossing.”
When Lincoln caught sight of Penny, he pulled the technician to the tracks and bounded to the crossing. Rearing up on his hind legs, he dashed through the newly repaired gate and bucked up in a circle in front of the house leaving two patties. Penny squealed in delight and then gave him a hand signal that calmed his mood.
Grandpa pointed to Lincoln and spoke to Penny, “Go put ‘im in the pen and get the shovel to clean this up.”
Mr. Gelande called from his porch, “You makin’ that little girl clean that up?”
Grandpa turned and yelled, “You still mindin’ your neighbor’s business?”
He turned back to Hobo Joe and said, “You know sometimes folks sit and think about broken crossings and sometimes, folks gotta clean up bull shit.”
