can do that much .
He almost did. Really. He took it out of his pocket and had it right there in his hand. He evenstrolled it over to her purse, and the walk must have done him good, because he had an idea.
Take the coke, if you’ve got to take something. You can sell what’s left for a hundred bucks. Maybe even two hundred, if it hasn’t been stomped on too much.
Only, if his potential buyer turned out to be a narc—it would be just his luck—he’d wind up in jail. Where he might also find himself nailed forwhatever stupid shit had gone down in the Milky Way. The cash was way safer. Seventy bucks in all.
I’ll split it, he decided. Forty for her and thirty for me .
Only, thirty wouldn’t do him much good. And there were the food stamps—a wad big enough to choke a horse. She could feed the kid with those.
He picked up the coke and the dusty People magazine and put them on the kitchenette counter,safely out of the kid’s reach. There was a scrubbie in the sink, and he used it on the coffee table, cleaning up the leftover shake. Telling himself that if she came stumbling out while he was doing it, he would give her back her goddam money. Telling himself that if she went on snoozing, she deserved whatever she got.
Deenie didn’t come out. She went on snoozing.
Dan finished cleaning up, tossedthe scrubbie back in the sink, and thought briefly about leaving a note. But what would it say? Take better care of your kid, and by the way, I took your cash?
Okay, no note.
He left with the money in his left front pocket, being carefulnot to slam the door on his way out. He told himself he was being considerate.
3
Around noon—his hangover headache a thing of the past thanks to Deenie’s Fioricetand a Darvon chaser—he approached an establishment called Golden’s Discount Liquors & Import Beers. This was in the old part of town, where the establishments were brick, the sidewalks were largely empty, and the pawnshops (each displaying an admirable selection of straight razors) were many. His intention was to buy a very large bottle of very cheap whiskey, but what he saw out front changedhis mind. It was a shopping cart loaded with a bum’s crazy assortment of possessions. The bum in question was inside, haranguing the clerk. There was a blanket, rolled up and tied with twine, on top of the cart. Dan could see a couple of stains, but on the whole it didn’t look bad. He took it and walked briskly away with it under his arm. After stealing seventy dollars from a single mother witha substance abuse problem, taking a bum’s magic carpet seemed like small shit indeed. Which might have been why he felt smaller than ever.
I am the Incredible Shrinking Man, he thought, hurrying around the corner with his new prize. Steal a few more things and I will vanish entirely from sight.
He was listening for the outraged caws of the bum—the crazier they were, the louder they cawed—butthere was nothing. One more corner and he could congratulate himself on a clean getaway.
Dan turned it.
4
That evening found him sitting at the mouth of a large stormdrain on the slope beneath the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge. He had aroom, but there was the small matter of stacked-up back rent, which he had absolutely promised to pay as of 5 p.m. yesterday. Nor was that all. If he returned tohis room, he might be invited to visit a certain fortresslike municipal building on Bess Street, to answer questions about a certain bar altercation. On the whole, it seemed safer to stay away.
There was a downtown shelter called Hope House (which the winos of course called Hopeless House), but Dan had no intention of going there. You could sleep free, but if you had a bottle they’d take it away.Wilmington was full of by-the-night flops and cheap motels where nobody gave a shit what you drank, snorted, or injected, but why would you waste good drinking money on a bed and a roof when the weather was warm and dry? He could worry about beds and roofs when
He almost did. Really. He took it out of his pocket and had it right there in his hand. He evenstrolled it over to her purse, and the walk must have done him good, because he had an idea.
Take the coke, if you’ve got to take something. You can sell what’s left for a hundred bucks. Maybe even two hundred, if it hasn’t been stomped on too much.
Only, if his potential buyer turned out to be a narc—it would be just his luck—he’d wind up in jail. Where he might also find himself nailed forwhatever stupid shit had gone down in the Milky Way. The cash was way safer. Seventy bucks in all.
I’ll split it, he decided. Forty for her and thirty for me .
Only, thirty wouldn’t do him much good. And there were the food stamps—a wad big enough to choke a horse. She could feed the kid with those.
He picked up the coke and the dusty People magazine and put them on the kitchenette counter,safely out of the kid’s reach. There was a scrubbie in the sink, and he used it on the coffee table, cleaning up the leftover shake. Telling himself that if she came stumbling out while he was doing it, he would give her back her goddam money. Telling himself that if she went on snoozing, she deserved whatever she got.
Deenie didn’t come out. She went on snoozing.
Dan finished cleaning up, tossedthe scrubbie back in the sink, and thought briefly about leaving a note. But what would it say? Take better care of your kid, and by the way, I took your cash?
Okay, no note.
He left with the money in his left front pocket, being carefulnot to slam the door on his way out. He told himself he was being considerate.
3
Around noon—his hangover headache a thing of the past thanks to Deenie’s Fioricetand a Darvon chaser—he approached an establishment called Golden’s Discount Liquors & Import Beers. This was in the old part of town, where the establishments were brick, the sidewalks were largely empty, and the pawnshops (each displaying an admirable selection of straight razors) were many. His intention was to buy a very large bottle of very cheap whiskey, but what he saw out front changedhis mind. It was a shopping cart loaded with a bum’s crazy assortment of possessions. The bum in question was inside, haranguing the clerk. There was a blanket, rolled up and tied with twine, on top of the cart. Dan could see a couple of stains, but on the whole it didn’t look bad. He took it and walked briskly away with it under his arm. After stealing seventy dollars from a single mother witha substance abuse problem, taking a bum’s magic carpet seemed like small shit indeed. Which might have been why he felt smaller than ever.
I am the Incredible Shrinking Man, he thought, hurrying around the corner with his new prize. Steal a few more things and I will vanish entirely from sight.
He was listening for the outraged caws of the bum—the crazier they were, the louder they cawed—butthere was nothing. One more corner and he could congratulate himself on a clean getaway.
Dan turned it.
4
That evening found him sitting at the mouth of a large stormdrain on the slope beneath the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge. He had aroom, but there was the small matter of stacked-up back rent, which he had absolutely promised to pay as of 5 p.m. yesterday. Nor was that all. If he returned tohis room, he might be invited to visit a certain fortresslike municipal building on Bess Street, to answer questions about a certain bar altercation. On the whole, it seemed safer to stay away.
There was a downtown shelter called Hope House (which the winos of course called Hopeless House), but Dan had no intention of going there. You could sleep free, but if you had a bottle they’d take it away.Wilmington was full of by-the-night flops and cheap motels where nobody gave a shit what you drank, snorted, or injected, but why would you waste good drinking money on a bed and a roof when the weather was warm and dry? He could worry about beds and roofs when
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