A drunk tail, the old man told himself, as he told one to family members, before passing out. Drunk tail? Tale? To him, it was the same thing.

Later, when he woke up in the middle of the night, the old man, found his teeth in the usual place. He also found lots of twenty dollar bills as he doddered to the bathroom to pee.

The multitude of Andrew Jacksons were laid before him, like clues. Like deeds gone undone.  Before he peed, he bent down to collect the money.

Then he peed. Then, the next morning, he paid out the money to friends and family.

They smiled awkwardly as they received the money. They knew why the money had been laid there on the way to his bathroom. To remind him. To pee. To pay.

To stop drinking.