It was hot even for Miami and the shot of rum was just sitting there. A miracle it hadn't evaporated because of how long it had been in the glass. 
At least by their standards. 
They were professionals and every shot that had come before didn't have any hope of making it from the brown hand that poured it to the table for very long. It just went down the hatch.
That's how it had been. People drink a lot more and faster during goodbyes. In some sort of desperation that it will delay the inevitable. 
That's the real reason they do it. Not because they hope it will put off the ill-awaited goodbye but because they know it will do no such thing.
But Kent was so wrapped up in his story that they didn't even realize the next round of drink had arrived even though it was them who summoned it. Just like how Kent wasn't really wrapped up in a story at all. Just the sort of speaking that comes from a man who knows he will never speak to his best friend ever again.
A best friend. Is that what he thought of Henry? Seemed pretty simple of a label to give that sort of man. As if he was worthy of a title unknown to his language or at least his knowledge of it.
It didn't matter anyway, he thought.
"Lets get drunk."  Said Kent raising his glass
"A damn good plan." Replied Henry as he raised his glass. There was no toast or clinking of glasses, they were past that. That was reserved for the beginning of a good drinking session, and also for the middle of one. These two though, they were beyond it entirely. There is a short-hand that exists between true companions and when drinking with such men, each drink taken is a toast that needs no saying.
"You're going to suffer up there" said Henry, "Too damn cold."
"I've got plenty of time to set myself up right for that. Plus it ain't that bad, not like New York or Wisconsin." Kent said, holding the empty glass down by his lap, with both hands now. 
Henry shot air out his nose.
"Fuck that. I would kill you myself if you ever went that high". He said with a smirk. "You come from good stock, they'll take care of you back there."
"We both come from good stock." Kent said.
"The same stock", said Henry.
Kent nodded and looked over at Henry saying, 
"We've come a long way haven't we Henry?" 
Henry was leaned back in his chair with one arm long over the table and his pointer finger rested on his glass.
"Do you mean us personally or are you talking about our stock?" He asked without looking away from his glass but furling an eyebrow nonetheless. He felt the warmth of the rum resting on his forehead.
"Hell, both" Kent said, "We come from good stock."
"Yeah we do." Henry smiled, eyes still fixed on his glass.
"Let's get drunk."
"A damn good plan."
Henry held a hand up to the Cuban who was sitting next to his radio listening to something about a group of students back home trying to form their own government. 
"La Cuba Nueva" he laughed to himself, removing his hat as he stood up shaking his head.
He poured out three fingers of rum into each glass.
There was no toast or clinking of glasses.
"You know they're gonna put a highway through there right? Pave right over your privacy and new life and straight up to your doorstep" Henry said.
"Well then ‘least I'll have a fuckin' job." He said into his glass.
"You know what I mean. And you know it's true." Henry said, facing him.
"Bullshit" Kent proclaimed. "Not where I'll be. Would be impossible to put a real road in that part of the mountains. And besides, If I feel like they're too close for comfort then I'll just go a little farther west. I've got family ‘round Swain too."
"You should've just kept your mouth shut you cracker bastard" was Henry's response.
Kent exhaled smoke from the corner of his mouth and stepped on his cigar-butt. 
"And let a bunch of Jew-boys from up north tell me how to make my livings?" He shot back. "As if you would've done any different. You're in a world of hurt too, cracker bastard."
Kent paused for a moment. So did Henry. They looked at rum but they did not drink it.
"I may get cold up there" he finally said, "but I won't go live alone on a piece of coral. You can have your island and all ten-thousand of the rest of ‘em too"
"I'll be alright" said Henry.
"You'll be skeeter bait" said Kent.
"I'll be just fine"
"I reckon you will"
They had known one another from boyhood, they became men together and trusted no one else in the world. They would never see each other again.
"We come from good stock" Henry said to Kent.
"Lets drink some rum" Kent said to Henry.
The men agreed on that and there was no clinking of glasses.

 

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