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.Not my dying brother, but.this.It was fantastic.Coldpony's daughter, walking the unicorn, halted a few times to answer questions about the animal, butrepeatedly had to admit that only Miss Libby and her father knew the whole story.Eventually, peoplestopped asking questions to drink in the undeniable reality of the unicorn.Everyone was smitten with thecreature, including the bewildered and already grieving Ned.* * *Dr.Nesheim sat on the sofa in the front room watching people come and go.He had mixed feelingsabout letting Bo die away from the hospital.There, he would've had far more control over events,overseeing them as a respected and deferred-to oncologist -- but he had to confess that given a choicebetween Alfie's lonely death in an ICU and a twenty-four-hour going-away party in Libby's home, he,too, would have opted for the latter.That, in fact, was why he was here.He had made up his mind to stay till the end, and he had telephonedthe medical center's chief of staff to inform him of this decision.In the meantime, he was giving painkillers,offering reassurance without dispensing false hope, and staying out of the way to keep from becoming thegodlike linchpin in a scene whose rightful hero was Bo.Death is a crappy story ending, Neisheim thought.It's either too pat or too unexpected, and just as everyperson ever born has an umbilicus, every person ever born owes the world a death.Alfie Tuck had had condom balloons by pathetic decree, and now Bo had them too -- likewise by decree.Only Bo and Father Zinzalow had visited Alfie, but so far today Neisheim had watched forty orfifty people look in on and murmur both a greeting and a farewell to Bo.It was discouraging, however, that most of these visitors were friends of Libby's rather than of Bo's.Withthe exception of the priest, the Methodist minister from Snowy Falls, and Bo's younger brother, thesevisitors had come less to show their support of the AIDS patient than to strengthen Libby in her role asthe dying man's benefactor.Well, that was okay too.At least they weren't turning their backs on Libby because she had given shelterto a "sick queer." At least they weren't pretending that he had already died.At least they seemed awareof Bo's human need for some simple acknowledgement of the fact that he, too, had lived and struggled.Nesheim, ensconced on the sofa with a copy of Western Horseman, was vaguely heartened by thenumber of "at leasts" he was able to list.The circumstances of Alfie's death had left him with deeperreservoirs of cynicism than of unqualified regard for his kind, and it was good to witness behavior thatbrought the reservoir levels a little more into balance again.Libby appeared in the hall."Dr.Nesheim," she said, "I wish you'd come in here again.It's."It's what we've been waiting for, the doctor thought, and he was surprised -- surprised and obliquelyexhilarated -- to feel a knot form in his gut.After all this time, he was supposed to be immune to attacksof angst over a bad outcome and of any resulting grief, but he was still experiencing them.He hadn't lostthe ability to feel.He wasn't practicing medicine from force of habit.He was so relieved to discover thesethings about himself that he entered Bo's room heavy not only with concern but with gratitude.Ned was standing in his stocking feet beside the bed.(He had returned from the paddock a short whileago, and Libby had made him take off his muddy shoes.) He had his saxophone at the ready, but, even inhis lavender shirt and his blue rep tie, he looked a flabby mess, the sort of patient you would put on a dietwith only a faint hope of his sticking to it.Libby, meanwhile, had gone out to the paddock to fetch Sam and Sam's daughter back to the house.Once she had returned with them, and once everyone else including the two clergymen had been shooedfrom the room, Nesheim took up a spot in the corner.He would come out to give whatever comfort andassistance he could, but this was a family matter, and Nesheim didn't want to step on the toes of thepeople who had known Bo since childhood or who had been with him on virtually a day-to-day basissince his return to Colorado.* * *"Neddy," Bo said, and his voice now was a whisper and a croak, for he was having trouble holdinghimself in this reality, "you've got to go back by Mama's from here.Promise me.""I promise.""She's all alone.Papa Nate's dead, I'm going, and she's even said she doesn't want to.to see youanymore, either.""That's the truth," Ned said."That's the rub, too, Beaumont.That's the rub.""Don't let her get away with that.Impose yourself on her and then look after her.""Beaumont--""Look, Little Brother, I'm giving you the word.She hates your job.It's a stupid hate, but she's toosilly-proud to change, and she won't live that damn much longer, anyway.""She'll outlive me, Beaumont.""Like hell.Listen.Quit your job.Find something in Pueblo that won't offend her silly-ass Victoriansensibilities.""Quit my job?""Right.Quit it.Then find a job in Pueblo -- not move in with her, now.Just keep an eye on her till.tillshe goes.""In the year two thousand A.D., when I'm a cool forty.""It won't be that long.Seven months, tops -- next February.So promise me, damn it.""Bo, I'd never find another position like--" "Look, you don't lip back at a dying older brother."Ned unhooked the strap that supported his saxophone, laid it on the TV tray holding Bo's photographsand the pewter unicorn, knelt at his brother's bedside, and stroked Bo's wrist."Bo, it's shitty to use your dying to make me lie to you.""Then don't do it!" Bo said, lifting his head."Don't turn the promises you make me into lies!""The only promise I've made you is that I'll go see Mama.""Promise me you'll quit Zubrecht and find work in Pueblo.Come on, you big goddamn baby."Ned put his forehead on the edge of the bed, closed his eyes, and clenched his fists."Bo, I'm afraidI'm.""I saw that you might be on your first visit here, Neddy.""Just quitting Zubrecht won't solve the problem with Mama.It can't, Bo.I don't know who the hell I am.""You're Theodore Gavin.You're an unhappy woman's son.Refuse to be disinherited.Everything else cancome later."Ned Gavin began to cry.Bo said, "You know the money I made from Zubrecht for my ad? Libby won't take any of it.So all butfive grand's for you.That five thousand's for Mama, the rest's for you to start fresh with -- severancepay, sort of.You've just got to promise me you'll quit Zubrecht's and go to Pueblo."Ned turned his head from side to side on the robin's-egg-blue linen.His shoulders hunched, rolled back,hunched again."Blast it, Neddy! Promise your dying damn older brother!""Okay, okay," Ned said at last, his face still pressed against the blue sheet."I promise.""You're my witness," Bo said, spying Dr.Nesheim in a corner of the little room."You heard him, right?""Right.I'm your witness.I heard him."* * *There were four people at his bedside when Bo died: Libby, Ned, Sam, and Dr.Neisheim.Paisley would have been there, but when she could see that Bo was going, she slipped out and crossedto the barn, where five of Arvill Rudd's hands were standing beyond its door talking about the "unicorns"and narrowly obeying her father's request to stay out of the barn itself.Of course, Paisley was exempt.Without saying a word to the cowboys, she entered the barn and ran into an enormous old man carryinga dose syringe
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