Pondicherry

“Look, I’m not saying they’re lying. But those so-called last words before he drew his last breath? Was they really ‘ponda cherry’? What the hell does that mean?”

“Maybe he meant to say ‘panda beary?’ Like something reminded him of a panda bear? Say, a stuffed animal one of his kids or grandkids used to play with or something?”

“Ponda rhymes with Honda. He loved that old Civic he kept out in the garage until Marjoria made him haul it off to Tonchi Marco’s scrap yard.”

“Maybe he didn’t say ponda cherry–maybe he said fonda cherry. Fond-of-cherry? He loved bing cherries. I seen him eat bing cherries til he was all but sick.”

“Might’ve been talking about Luden’s–he usually carried a box of cherry cough drops in the pocket of his dungarees in the winter time.”

“He liked cherry pie, too.”

“And Whitehouse cherry ice cream. Drank a lot of cherry lime-ade, come to think of it.”

“All this talk about cherry this and cherry that’s making me hungry. Let’s go to supper.”

“So we don’t believe what they said his last words were, or we believe it and can’t figure out what the hell he was talking about?”

“I think who cares? We need to head for the dining room so we can get the table we want.”

“He’s right. Before Chester and Dewey strut in and take over.”

“Chester does like to strut, even in that wheelchair. Thinks he’s God’s gift.”

“What if he was saying ‘pawn the cherry’?”

“Leave off of it, Mole. He’s dead. We made it through another day. Be grateful they didn’t carry you out of this place with a sheet over your damned face.”

“Could’ve been any one of us.”

“Deed honest.”