He played tennis.
Ray?
Our dad. At his club, rain or shine, every Saturday. He had that thing all dads have after 30 years of wearing socks, where the hair gets worn away, so he's basically bald from the shins down. [chuckles] I was on the drive, you know, throwing a ball against the house, a tennis ball. Wasn't supposed to, but he was gone, so... And Ray's someplace, kitchen probably, he was always eating, that kid. Real chubby. And then, Dad's home. He had this old Mercedes diesel, you could hear it on the come. So I hide the ball and he pulls in. Not out of the car ten seconds, when down he goes, flat on his face. One minute, he's waving hello, the next, just drops like - like the lights go out. [pause] I killed him.
Your dad?
Ray. First I tricked him, then I killed him. Like no days had passed. Like one thing goes and then another. Like you whack a tennis ball back and forth.
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