"Are you serious?" said Lawyer C, across the table.
"Oh yes," said Henry.
"Un-fucking-believable," said Lawyer C, to his colleagues. "Do you believe this rucking guy?"
"Listen, Ace," said Lawyer D, to Henry. "We're paying customers here, and we happen to like cigars, and if you don't like it, tough shit."
"That's right, Ace," said Lawyer A. He sucked on his cigar, then, holding the cigar between his thumb and forefinger, turned his mouth toward Henry and blew a long, thick stream of smoke into Henry's face. Henry did not move.
When he was done blowing, Lawyer A said, "So listen, Ace, why don't you uhhh…»
Lawyer A was unable to finish telling Henry what he should do, because Henry had put his hand on Lawyer A's shoulder and squeezed it. He did not appear to be exerting himself, but Lawyer A had gone rigid.
"Uhhh," he said, again.
With his other hand, Henry took Lawyer A's cigar and put it out in his cognac. The other lawyers shifted in their seats, as if preparing to get up and do something, but Henry met their eyes in alphabetical order — B, C, D — and they stayed where they were.
Releasing Lawyer A, who grabbed his shoulder and moaned, Henry walked partway around the table to Lawyer B, who flinched violently as Henry gently but firmly relieved him of his cigar and dropped it into his cognac. At that point, Lawyers C and D put out their cigars unassisted.
"Thank you, gentlemen," said Henry.
Lawyer D, who was the farthest away, said, "You realize that you have committed assault."
"I know," said Henry, shaking his head. "Time was, you really had to hit somebody."
Then he went back to his table, sat down, and resumed cutting his steak. 'Tell your employer," he said to Rojas, "it's going to be another ten. Apiece."
Rojas pretended to think about this, although it was pretty much the figure he already had in mind.
"OK," he said. "Just keep in mind that my employer wants this finished as soon as possible."
"Believe me," said Henry, "we don't wanna stay in this town any longer than we have to."
"You got that right," said Leonard, between chews.
Puggy awoke to the sound of the angel's voice. "Puggy," the voice was calling, softly. Pogey.
Puggy rolled onto his stomach and stuck his face over the edge of his platform. There she was, in a blue uniform, looking up. She smiled when she saw his face. She was beautiful. Even from the tree, Puggy could see she had all her teeth.
"I bring you some lunch," she said. I breen you son lonch.
Puggy started down the tree, then, as Nina giggled, he scooted back onto the platform and wriggled into his pants. He started down again.
"Hey," he said, when he reached the ground. He wished he owned a toothbrush.
"For you," she said, giving him a paper plate with a sandwich on it.
It was turkey on white bread with mayonnaise, lettuce, and sliced tomato. It was the most elaborate meal anybody had ever made for Puggy.
"Thank you for help me," Nina said.
Puggy looked at the wonderful sandwich — it also had & folded napkin — then at Nina.
"Listen," he said. "I love you."
"So what you're telling me," Evan Hanratty, organizer of the Killer game, said to Matt, "is that her mom beat you up? Her mom?"
They were in the Southeast High School gymnasium, which, from 11:15 A.M. through 1:35 P.M., became the Southeast High School auxiliary cafeteria, which meant that the food tasted even more like unlaundered jockstraps than it would have ordinarily.
"She jumped me from behind," said Matt. "And there were two of them. And I wasn't gonna hit women."
"Looks like they hit you pretty good," said Evan, studying Matt's lower lip.
"Well, I got a lot of help from my backup man," said Matt.
"Hey," said Andrew, "call me crazy, but when somebody starts shooting, I leave."
"Are you guys sure there was a gunshot?" asked Evan.
"You should have seen the TV," said Matt. "It was, like, a bunch of TV molecules."
"Shit," said Evan.
They all reflected on that thought for a moment.
"So," said Matt, "this doesn't count as killing Jenny?"
"Nope," said Evan. "You gotta squirt her. That's the rules. If we start letting people get points for rolling around on the floor, we'd have anarchy."
"Speaking of rolling around," said Andrew, "how was it?"
"Yeah," said Evan. "How was it? I mean, if Jenny's mom looks anywhere near as good as Jenny…»
"Which she does," noted Andrew.
"So, how was it?" said Evan.
"Shut up," said Matt.
"Hey, I'm just asking," said Evan. "You don't have to…»
"I mean, shut up, here comes Jenny," said Matt.
Sure enough, Jenny was approaching. This was unusual, because Matt, Andrew, and Evan were sitting in the section of the bleachers traditionally occupied by Guys Who Were Smart but Didn't Participate in School Activities and Tended to Be Wiseasses. Jenny sat in the section for Pretty and Very Popular Girls; generally, a girl from that section would not be seen in any other section except the one for Guys Who Played Sports and/or Held Class Office.
"Hey," Jenny said, to Matt.
"Hey," said Matt.
"Does that hurt?" she asked, pointing to Mart's lip.
"Not really," said Matt.
"Maybe," said Evan, "if you kissed it, it would feel better."
"Shut up," said Matt. To Jenny, he said, "Is everything OK at your house?"
"Well, my mom's still pretty upset about the bullet," said Jenny. "But the police guy thinks it was just some crackhead who was gonna rob us, and you scared him off."
"My hero," said Andrew, in falsetto, swooning.
"Shut up," said Matt.
"So listen," said Jenny. "I wanted to tell you three things. First, thank you. And second, thanks again for the Fluids CD. I really like it."
"You gave her your Fluids CD?" said Evan.
"No question," said Andrew, "he wants her sex pootie."
"Shut up," said Matt.
"And third," said Jenny, "I feel really, really bad about what happened last…»
"No," said Matt, "it's OK, really, it's…»
"… so I just wanted you to know," said Jenny, "that if you want to squirt me, I'll be at CocoWalk tonight, around eight, outside the Gap. OK?"
"OK," said Matt.
"See you," she said, turning and heading back to the section for Pretty and Very Popular Girls.
All three boys watched her go.
"Whoa," said Andrew.
" 'If you want to squirt me'?" said Evan. " 'If you want to squirt me'?»
"Shut up," said Matt.
Eliot waited for Anna on the patio in front of the Taurus, a venerable, mellow Grove hangout popular with older, pudgier residents escaping the predatory flatbelly young-singles scene that swirled around the glitz bars at the other end of Main Highway.
Eliot passed the time by watching two veteran Taurus patrons, each with a line of empty beer bottles testifying to a Friday well spent, play the ring game. There had been, as long as anybody could remember, a metal ring hanging by a string from a tree on the Taurus patio; the object of the game was to pull the ring back and let it go in such a way that it swung up to, and encircled, a nail sticking up from the edge of the Taurus roof. The two veteran patrons had been doing this for over an hour, with the intensity and concentration of brain surgeons. They got the nail on almost every try. They acted like it was no big deal.
"I could never do that," said Anna, from behind Eliot.
"Hey!" he said, turning around. "Me neither. I think the secret is large amounts of beer." "So," she said, "you hang out here much?" "Oh yes," said Eliot. "I've even competed in the Taurus blowgun league."