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Show The,Speed of Light Butch and Fenn Stories 13 days. Butch repaired them himself. We kneel above the watches, squinting as the second hands sweep in time. "Are they okay?" "You shouldn't rub your eyes so much, you'd be able to see them." Finally Butch picks up one of the watches, looks at me, and straps it on his wrist. He places the other watch in my palm. He tells Fenn: "Okay, stay here with him." And Butch climbs down through the hole and is gone. Fenn and I, straddling the bandstand roof, watching the headlights on Indiana Avenue, wait for his signal. "What did you guys see?" "Nothing. What did Butch say?" "He has said a lot of shit over the summer which I don't get." We give Butch a minute to climb the baseball diamond backstop. "Now watch," I tell Fenn. "Be ready." Butch is going to shine his light at ten o'clock. "I can't see anything." "Neither can I." I shine the light on the watch; we have twenty seconds. Fifteen. Ten. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Butch's flashlight flares once. |