When I was young, it felt like my father knew the answers to everything.

So one day, I asked him about a science word I heard when I was watching TV.

Interpy.

He said, yes, that's entropy.

That's when big complicated things that should be holding together fall apart.

They fall everywhere.

But it's nobody's fault.

Doing go-arounds on Sunday nights, it was real quiet in town.

Driving around almost no calls would ever come in.

So it was just me behind the wheel, street after street.

I had too much time and quiet to think, really, I didn't even listen to music or anything.

And then, Mitsy from the detention center told me that one statistic she knew, she loved

to hit me with funny statistics, and that one never got out of my head on Sunday nights.

I got it off the internet or something, so maybe someone just pulled it out of one

of their orifice, so I don't know.

But it was something like, if you took the population of any town and divided it by some

number, you were guaranteed that a certain number of houses in the middle of the night

had something totally awful and terrible and illegal going on.

Just basic math, but I said, Pat, you have to take a joke, baby.

He took everything so seriously.

That man was wired tight.

So somewhere in Claysmith on Sunday night, you could safely say three houses were definitely

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