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“He can’t come in here!” Eunice said.

“Just shut up and get outta the way,” Dewey said. “Come on, kid, walk me straight ahead to the hallway, and we’ll make a turn to the right.”

Malcolm looked in astonishment at the computer screens that were lit and full of names and numbers. Then he walked slowly to the hallway, holding Dewey upright.

“The second room, Clark,” Dewey said. “Just take me in there, and we’ll try to get my ass on the bed without ripping my guts out.”

Malcolm helped Dewey across the small bedroom to a double bed and helped him sit. “Easy, now,” Dewey said. “Don’t move fast. Just scoot me slow and easy, and let me lie down on my side. Then try to lift my legs up onto the bed without killing me.”

The young man followed directions, with Dewey groaning incessantly. When his legs were elevated onto the bed, Dewey said, “Now just flip me from my side onto my back. Gently. Very gently.”

When he was finally supine, Dewey said, “Okay, that’s better. Now step outside into the computer room and ask my… secretary to come in.”

A moment later, Eunice entered and closed the door, saying, “Well, now you really did it, Dewey. That boy just had a good look at our operation. Whadda we have to do to keep his mouth shut? Adopt him?”

“The kid doesn’t know anything, Eunice,” Dewey said, staring upward. “He just wants to make a buck.”

“The hell he doesn’t know anything,” she said. “He’s a new runner, isn’t he? What’s he supposed to think about the computers and the files? And oh, yeah, I have credit cards scattered all over the table, most of which are almost useless thanks to the poor quality of material you’re paying for these days. You just completely breached our security that I worked so hard to set up.”

“He’s a know-nothing kid,” Dewey said. “Kee-rist, Eunice!”

“He only knows you as Bernie Graham, right?”

“Yeah,” Dewey muttered. “And you’re my secretary, Ethel, okay?”

“You really did it now, Dewey,” she said, shaking her head.

“Okay, Eunice,” Dewey said. “Go out there and kill him. Asphyxiate him with cigarette smoke. But then you can dispose of his body all by yourself because I… am… fucking… hurt! Not that you give a shit!”

“So, what really happened to you, Dewey?”

“I got in a beef with one of the runners. A slob called Jerzy who’s not quite as big as a Humvee.”

“The old guy? He beat you up?”

“No, that’s Old Jerzy. I told you, he’s gone. I got beat up by New Jerzy.”

“Jesus Christ!” Eunice said. “Old Jerzy, New Jerzy, what the hell am I doing in this nutty fucking arrangement?”

“It was over a payment I owed him,” Dewey said with a sigh. “He wanted more. He’s a tweaker and he turned violent.”

“Tweakers again!” she said. “No matter how many times I say no tweakers, you still end up working with them. Is that kid in the other room a tweaker?”

“That kid is a baby,” Dewey said. “He’s a nice, polite boy who wants to make some extra change. If he hadn’t showed up, I woulda had to call an ambulance.”

“Okay, so if you really think you got broken ribs, then let him take you to the ER at Hollywood Pres. I don’t want paramedics coming in here to haul you out.”

“My ribs’re feeling a little better. I don’t think they’re broken. I just need a good night’s sleep.”

“So, what am I supposed to say to the kid?” Eunice asked. “Now that he’s in a position to extort us?”

“Say good-bye,” Dewey muttered, “after you drive him back to the office. And give him fifty bucks for his trouble.”

“We better be planning to move,” Eunice said before opening the door. “I hope you enjoy your nap, because I won’t sleep a wink tonight.” She made no effort to hide a little sneer, adding, “And Dewey, take off that stupid fucking mustache.”

When she closed the door, Dewey lay still, thinking maybe he could persuade Jerzy to make the kidnapping look extra real by giving Eunice a few of his special knuckle shots to her fat gut. Just to see how she liked it.

Twilight had come to Hollywood and brought with it the endless streams of traffic. When they got trapped by two signal sequences at a stoplight on Hollywood Boulevard, Eunice said to Malcolm Rojas, “You can call me Ethel. What’s your name?”

“Clark,” Malcolm said.

“We better not waste time,” Eunice said, “so I can hurry back and tend to the wounded. You may have noticed he doesn’t suffer in silence.”

Eunice drove and Malcolm sat quietly. Several times she found herself glancing over at him. He was a handsome kid, she had to admit that much. He was youthfully slender, with delicate features that made him look sensitive. She loved his curly hair and his heavy black lashes over those burning dark eyes. Yes, he was a really good-looking boy.

Finally she said, “Do you have a job, Clark?”

“Yes,” he said, “I work at a home improvement center in the warehouse.”

“Do you like the work?”

“No,” he said. “It’s boring. I’m hoping Mr. Graham can get me some work that’s more -”

“Exciting?”

“Not really exciting, but -”

“Challenging?”

“Yes, that’s it. Challenging.”

“Mr. Graham is good at finding challenging jobs for young people,” Eunice said. “Maybe he can accommodate you.”

Malcolm surprised her when he said, “How about you? How long have you been Mr. Graham’s secretary?”

“Nine years,” she said.

“Is he a nice boss to work for?”

She had to smile. This boy! She hadn’t been around anyone like him since, well, she couldn’t remember when. “He can be nice,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll be nice to you, because you’re nice.”

She looked over at him and he smiled shyly at the compliment. They rode quietly again, but she still found herself glancing over. At last she said, “You have such gorgeous color. I was wondering, are you Hispanic?”

“No,” he said quickly. “My mother was a Persian. Her family was wealthy but they had to get out of their country and come to America poor. She’s dead now. My father was a French chef who worked in some of the best restaurants in New York. He’s dead too.”

Eunice didn’t believe a word of it. Just another Mexican-American kid, she figured, but with a rich imagination. Touching. It was touching to be with him. She was feeling emotions she hadn’t felt in years. She was feeling like a girl!

When they got back to the duplex, Malcolm said, “That’s my car, the old Mustang.”

“A Mustang!” Eunice said. “My boyfriend had a Mustang when I was in high school.”

When she parked at the curb, she turned off the headlights. She had an uncontrollable urge to talk longer with this boy.

He started to get out, and she opened her purse and said, “Wait a minute. Don’t you want your money? Mr. Graham promised you fifty dollars, didn’t he?”

Malcolm said, “Yeah, but I can’t take money for helping a man who was injured. Anybody should do that for free. Just tell him I’ll be waiting for his call.”

“Wait a minute, Clark!” Eunice said, stunned. When was the last time she’d dealt with anybody who’d turned down money? She closed her purse and said, “What kind of burgers do you like? I’m gonna get me a Whopper. Wanna follow me? I’m buying.”

“Well…,” he said. “Maybe I should -”

“Come on. You gotta be hungry,” Eunice said. “I’m starved. We can talk about the business, if you like.”

That did it. He wanted to learn more about what Bernie Graham might expect from him and how much money he could make. He followed her to Burger King, where they parked in the lot and went inside.

Malcolm stood examining the wall menu, deciding what he was going to order, while Eunice was in the restroom. When she returned, her hair was combed and she was wearing fresh lipstick and even some eye shadow. Malcolm didn’t like it, seeing her made up like this. It made her look… flirty. He felt himself getting angry, but he had to control it if he wanted to work for her boss, Bernie Graham.