The well digger was the unofficial Mayor of Cardonal, oh, for at least the last twenty years. In Cardonal well digging is not done with machinery attached to a pickup truck, it is done with a shovel and a bucket. He dug down and hauled the stuff up to be thrown on the beach.

Church every week, one wife, seven children fifteen grandchildren, and so much gusto at the table with the family. He had his stories and told them well. Mostly stories of fishermen lost at sea, but many also of people with good fortune, like a really fat pig to take to market. This is his home, his chair has been taken from the table and placed against the wall.

And what happened? One day he could not pee, and thought never mind. But the second day was all pain, and he went to the bus stop to get to the doctor in Las Barilles. It was there that he collapsed. Angelina happened to be there, on her way to buy beeswax for more candles, and held her cheek next to his as he died, and whispered to him, “You have done all that you have needed to.”