Bill took great pride in this picture, for it was the picture of his old room, back at the ranch.  He would often laugh at this phrase, for it had become some sort of catch-word to other people.  But that’s the way it had been, he’d been living on a ranch.

Now, he lived off somewhere else.  Somewhere similar, but closer to the sea.  He could see it out his window, spreading out in deepest blues and smattered with little stars.  There were dunes to ramble over, and copses for hunting.  The deer were good here and he had already found himself one with a large rack.  This new set hung proudly beside the picture of his room.

He did have some regrets, but very few.  His life had been a good one.  He’d been everything he’d ever wanted to be, from sailor in Uncle Sam’s Navy to father, grandfather, rancher, deacon, sponsor for the Alcoholic’s Anonymous, and colorful local charicter.  Everybody had known Bill, and it seemed, everybody had liked him.

His chief regret was that he’d left so quickly.  That hadn’t been his intention.  He’d meant to tie things up, see the lawyer just in case, take his lady friend out for some hunting and a weekend away, and see his grandchildren together, maybe have a portrait done.  But circumstances being what they are, he had to drop everything and leave without having done a bit of it.  At least he’d gotten the trees taken care of!

“Bill?”

“Come in!”

An old friend who was staying here as well opened the door then sauntered in, smiling devilishly.  “You old bastard, I tell you again, that ranch is mine!”  He gestured at the picture.  “And the lady’s mine.  And the butte’s mine...”

“Son of a bitch, Wally, knock it off and take a load off.  What brings you out on such a beautiful day?  Fellow would have though an old horse like you would rather hide from the sun than risk going out in it.”

Wally leaned forward in the woven chair which sat beside Bill’s and faced the verandah and the sea beyond.  “You saying I’m a vampire?  You saying Old Willy’s only for going out at night and biting pretty women on the neck?”  He laughed hoarsely.  “Maybe you’re right, my friend.  At least the ladies don’t think Wally’s an old buffalo and stay away from him!”

“Old buffalo?  Hell.”  Bill reached across and mussed Wally’s hair.  Wally laughed and covered his head with both his arms.

“Hey, hey, Bill, I guess you don’t want to hear it, so Old Wally’ll be taking off...”

“Hear what?  What are you talking about, you old goat?”

Wally settled back now that Bill’s attack was over.  “Hear that Timmy Henry’s coming.”

Bill was thunderstruck.  One of the things he worried about was that Timmy Henry would move in on his lady-friend once Bill was sent out of commission.  Now, though, it seemed that old Timmy Henry had come down with something to send him up to stay with them.  “When?”  he asked his smiling friend.

“Not long.  He’s getting ready.”

“Hell.  You don’t need to get ready to come here.  Why, they just up and carted me off, no will or warning to it.  What’s he got to get ready that the rest of us don’t?”

Wally waved a hand.  “Now, don’t go piling me in with your type, Bill.  I got to get ready.  Took me almost six weeks, too.  Most of us have time.  Your case was different.  You didn’t spend time wallowing with those doctors.”

“Well, they’re all a waste of time.  My doc down at the VA told me I’d have to come here thirteen years ago, ten at the latest.  And I held out on them a good stretch longer, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you were always pigheaded,”  Wally agreed.  “And I halfway think they were expecting you, especially after that heart attack.  But you fooled them, Bill.”  Wally laughed his dry, raspy laugh.  “Yea, you fooled them real good.  They thought better of me when they found out we were friends, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Well, then.”  Bill sat back, satisfied.

“But I’ll tell you what, my friend.  When I got here, they told me you’d be coming presently.  And it wasn’t very long before I hear your old buffalo snort blasting down these hallways.”  He nodded at the picture.  “Your people don’t pay no mind to things, do they?  My grandmother taught us to cover things that shouldn’t be seen.”

“What do you mean, cover things that shouldn’t be seen?  What’s wrong with that picture?  Sure, it’s a little messy.  But that’s because it looks lived-in.  I’d like to see you comfortable.  It would be a new experience for you.”

Far off a bell sounded.  Both men looked up.  The bell meant that someone new had come to take up residency.  Bill looked at Wally, who only shrugged.

The jingle of a wallet chain sounded down the hallway and a hearty voice called out,  “Hey, Bill!  Hey, Wally!  Anyone know old Timmy Henry?”

Bill and Wally scrambled to their feet, cowboy boots clacking on the wooden floorboards, and rushed the door.  Bill opened it, but it was Wally who looked out and shouted,  “Hey, Timmy Henry!  Over here!”

With a swagger and a stride that belied his recent condition, Timmy Henry slung into the room.  His paunch, which had become more pronounced in recent years, had shrunken down to almost nothing and his color was better than it had been in a decade.  The three old friends laughed and back-slapped and renewed acquaintance.  Then Timmy Henry took stock of the room.

“Nice view,”  he said, looking out at the misty ocean.  “My room looks out on the cattle pasture.  Now, don’t get me wrong, the ocean’s nice.  But give me a decent herd of cattle for my scenery.”

“I have the buttes,”  Wally said, and his contentment showed.

Timmy Henry continued around the room.  He stopped to admire the antlers mounted and hanging on the wall.  “Good hunting here?”  he asked.

“Bagged that buck right after I got here,”  Bill replied.

“Six-by-six.  Good trophy.  Did you make sausages?”

“Best sausage you ever ate,”  said Bill.  “I got some jerky in the smokehouse if you want some.”

“Maybe later.  Talked to Tracy after you left.  She was torn up about you leaving.  I tried to get her down to meet me, but she wouldn’t hear of it.  Having you drug off like that just tore her up.”

“I tried to get a message to her, but communication’s unreliable from here.  The message might have gotten jumbled...”

“No, she said she thought you’d tried to contact her and took it as a good sign.  But really, Bill, leaving her with nothing the way you did...  She didn’t say anything, but I think that was rotten.”

“I wanted to get things straightened around, but they come and took me off before I could.  One thing I wanted to do, too, was get that medication changed.  Now they’ve taken care of it here, but I’d like that quack of a doctor of mine to know just what he pulled.”

Timmy Henry didn’t seem to hear.  Instead, he was looking at the picture of Bill’s old room at the ranch.

“Nice likeness,”  he said.  “I remember when you first moved in there.  But, there’s nothing like that in my room here.  I would have thought, with the time I had to prepare, that something could have been fixed up.  What’s the deal here, anyway?”

Wally shook his head and pulled Timmy Henry’s elbow.  “That was his family’s doings.  They didn’t cover the mirror when he died.”