Gassed

By Jeffrey Paolano

Before the Marcellus Shale gave up its gas the Roebeckers never quite made thirty thousand a year. Now they’ve millions.

Mr. Roebecker’s at eighty-two while his wife these sixty years is seventy-seven.

The Roebeckers lack children, family, or friends.

“Cathy’re care’n for anything?”

“I’m set-up, Tom,” says a grinning Cathy.

“What ’bout a trip, say to Florida, say Daytona Beach?”

“No interest, no, nowhere I wanna go.”

“Shame it’s lotsa money, who’ll get it?” says Tom, itchin.

“Somehow, the government.”

“Always the way,” says Tom sulking.

“Seems like.”

“Where’d you put them checks?”

“My jam jar,” says pennywise Cathy, salivating pleasantly.