Never Fun

Callahan

"Do you know the story of Heathcliff the Betrayer?" she asks, slurring her words.

“You're drunk, Portia.”

"First, he tricked his brother." There's that finger again, making some drunken point. "Then his father. Do you know it?"

“Yes, I know the story. What does that have to do with anything?"

“My uncle is a liar. Among other things. He can't help himself. It's in his name. You can't escape your name.”

I step closer, narrow my eyes. "Are you always so philosophical when you're drunk?"

"I'm not drunk."

"Besides, there's no such thing as destiny. We have free choice. People choose what they are."

"You mean who they are."

"I mean what they are."

She considers for a moment before standing and coming up to meet me, to push her slender finger into the middle of my chest.

"Do you know the man you have aligned yourself with, Callahan Scarfoni? Do you have any idea what he is?"

One knee gives out and I catch her elbow to steady her. I open my mouth to tell her I know exactly what her