"No, it doesn't, and I can't give you any kind of answer. I wish I could."
They said nothing for a long while.
"I heard tell Boyce got himself a girlfriend," Lefty said, brightening a little.
"Now, you don't expect me to believe that, do you?" Lefty got a twinkle in his eyes. "I think this calls for a bottle of tequila."
As they walked toward the pickup, Amos nudged Lefty with an elbow. "What do you say, after everybody leaves, we play us a little pinochle? I'll give you a chance to win back part of that ten million you owe me."
"Sounds good to me." Lefty grinned. "I'm gonna kick your butt. I feel lucky tonight."
"You say that every night."
They climbed into Amos's pickup; the one Jesse had given him, and drove away.
Soon after the taillights vanished into the twilight, the wind rose and the wreath worked loose from its perch and sailed across the hard ground, flipping end over end like a tumbleweed, until it finally fetched up against the rocks that covered Steven Adler's grave. The wreath became trapped there.
And even though the wind blew hard, the wreath remained wedged in the rocks as though it belonged there.
It stayed there until it became dust.