On her arms and legs were needle tracks.
He sat cross-legged on the mat with the pan of soup and one spoon.
“Sit up.”
When she did, drawing her knees up to make room for him, her shoulders looked narrower than her ribcage.
“Been trickin’?”
“Earlier,” she said.
“Make much?”
“Forty dollars. Two tricks. Nothing extra.”
“Have some soup.”
He tipped the spoon into her mouth.
“One guy had a great watch I tried to hook, but he didn’t take his eyes off it once. The bastard.”
“Did you spend the forty?”
“Yes. And used it. Now it’s gone. All gone.”
A childlike, ladylike tear built on the lower lid of her left eye and rolled down her cheek without her appearing to notice it.
“Cheer up. There are always more tricks tomorrow. Where did you get the stuff?”
“Fat Sam.”
“Any good?”
“Sure. But he doesn’t have much.”
“He doesn’t?”
“He said he hopes he can deal the weekend.”
“Where does he get it, anyway?”
“Why?”
“I was just thinking: his source might be cheaper.”
“I don’t know. Somewhere on the beach, I guess.”
“Did you find him on the beach?”
“Yeah. He’s always there.”
“He sure is.”
“Where did you go, Fletch? You’ve been gone all day. You smell different.”
“I smell different?”
“You smell more like air than like a person.”
“Like air?”
“I don’t know what I mean.”
He said, “I was in an air-conditioned building for a while today.”
“Ripping off?”
“Yeah. I was doing some lifting from a couple of stores on the Main. It takes time.”
“Get much?”
“A couple of cameras. Tape recorder. Trouble is there’s this store dick in one store always hassling me. Minute I show up, he eye-bugs me. I had to wait for him to go to lunch.”
“It’s lousy the way they always hassle you.”
“Shits.”
“Rip off much?”
“Twenty-three dollars’ worth. Big deal.”
“Not so much.”
“Not so much.”
“I mean, for all day. You were gone this morning, too.”
“All fuckin’ day.”
“Why do they have to hassle?”
“Because they’re shits. They just see you coming and they’re against you. Fuck ‘em.”
“Fuck ‘em,” she said.
“Fuck ‘em all. The shits.”
“You know, Fletch, you could probably turn tricks.”
“No.”
“There are plenty of boys out.”
“Kids.”
“You got a better body than they have.”
“Too old.”
“You’re only twenty-three.”
“Twenty-six,” he said.
“So. You could turn tricks. You’d be surprised at the men cruising.”
“I’ve seen them.”
“Sometimes they don’t know which they want. A guy settled with me once, and a boy cruised by, and he said, ‘Forget it,’ and went off after the boy. I don’t know who was more surprised—the boy, or me.”
“I don’t know. I don’t care.”
“It doesn’t hurt, Fletch. Honest it doesn’t.”
“I suppose not.”
“You might make more money, is all.”
“I guess. Finish the soup.”
Between her knees, she stirred the soup in the pan with the spoon, concentrating on how the soup moved.
“I mean, I was just thinking you could make more money.”
“I like girls.”
“So what. If someone’s willing to pay, and it doesn’t hurt …”
“Maybe I’ll try it.”
“Sure, you try it. You could get more. I mean, I’ve only seen you shoot up once or twice, Fletch.”
“I can’t rip off enough.”
“You have this room.”
“I haven’t paid for it yet.”
“How are you staying here?”
“The guy who owns the place fences for me. That’s why I get screwed all the time.”
“You give him the stuff you rip off from the stores?”
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t leave much left over.”
“No. Not much.”
“The bastard.”
“He’s always hassling me for more,” Fletch said.
“Not a very good arrangement,” she said.
“You’re from the Midwest.”
“Why?”
“You sound it. You sound like you’re from the Midwest. Very practical.”
Bobbi said, “You don’t get to have much junk.”