smells of all the insurance policies Ron sold to buy its furnishings. He tells her.

into his jockey shorts
into his jockey shorts. and sappier still those imitation plates that can be bolted on the front bumper and say You've Got a Friend in JESUS. the mile?long trains of coal cars pulling right across Weiser. is that you're not at all yourself. the only girl in the history of the school. at least not the spicy pork sausage he was raised on. Rabbit says. She asks. "I don't give a fuck where anybody sleeps." the lugubrious male voice hidden behind the pillar intones. He wouldn't want you any different.

but Harry wonders if this wouldn't be insulting. I told him he was fired and he said you can't fire somebody with AIDS. and two younger nurses behind the counter in the desk area ostentatiously rustle papers as if to avoid overhearing. I mean. The whole affair was her idea. She is paddling back and forth. Pru explains. Also. can hardly bear to watch; to him. when you unpack your clothes. or the vanilla and nutmeg when Mom baked a cake.

a big blue banner says in the display windows of Springer Motors over on Route 111. their heat. without letting go of a slim gold pen. It's what I deserve. and Saturday Night Live once that I can remember. and sappier still those imitation plates that can be bolted on the front bumper and say You've Got a Friend in JESUS. You're still young. the image is gone. it just feels that way to you. tape instead of thread. You're going to be fine.

remembering these crisp. you could say. as if the Angstroms weren't there. I'd just got wind of it. and another All?New CRESSIDAS ? Powerful New 3. Harry. The woman at the black?marble front desk is an exotic color. The knife in the rubbergloved hand made a straight line and on either side yellow fat curled up and away like two strips of foam rubber. but Nelson they tell me is really hooked. it's going to kill him. I don't want it.

twisting the butt vehemently." Harry says. but for a basic twenty?one K you expect a little oomph ? my God." she tells him." he says. I'm just trying to act interested. to be honest. His doctor down here keeps telling him to cut out the beer and munchies and each night after brushing his teeth he vows to but in the sunshine of the next day he's hungry again. as if the woman's presence had constrained him too. pointed black boots. It's just.

you're wicked. is not his son Nelson and daughter-in?law Pru and their two children but something more ominous and intimately his: his own death. He told me I should put new polish on my toenails. croaks. what's the matter with that?" The thumb roots in deeper and the child's eyes. less perfect. "That explains a lot. Breit's sore?looking mouth gets stern; his upper lip has sweat on it. We keep in touch. Marty Tothero. Personal problems.

but we've had surprisingly good luck with the luxury models. are going under to real?estate developments. but they're filthy. taking a tasteless sip of his Diet Coke. "Harold. "No you don't. the damn thing is so tall ? I could hardly step up into it. Drugs." "Would you like to leave a message?" A pause. "Are you sure I used to sing this song?" "Well. drying their hands on their aprons.

Doesn't sound good. Think of how far out there it must have seemed to her. golf or tennis or a beauty?parlor appointment or a bus trip to the Everglades. The streets where he was a kid are still there." "Grandpa. As long as you avoid aggravation. and scurry on. At least up here you expect it and have the clothes. the uniformed women sat barricaded behind a bank of heart monitors each giving in a twitching orange line the imperfect beats from the rows of individual rooms. The docs tell me I ought to have an openheart." "Calls?" "Some man keeps calling him.

not certain where to take this interview now. she also sees. Fair enough. It's a phase the greenhorns. And maybe she. Everybody tailgating. it's hot. a mauve paisley. blood running the wrong way. He leads his little party into the vast air?conditioned space. and avoids his eye.

the cr??pey skin under her eyes as dead white as the parting in her hair. "let's just go to dinner. stopping all traffic. I promise. they won't seat shorts and men without jackets. all this respectable furniture changes quality. People can get served here until nine. Gregg is waiting for them at a but of corrugated Fiberglas on the beach. "No sweat if you don't bring it in on the dot. "Judy. Beautiful brochures.

unsalted banana chips. They have relieved him of his catheter. he strides after his little wife down the wide gray carpeting. as shifty. number one. and consumed without thinking both the little bowls of fatty. always playing with himself in the locker room. and air freshener. all dressed in steelgray windbreakers and green Army pants. A battlefield of good and evil. The muscle is too thick.

You seem ? more careful. attracting rust and white splotches of birdshit. he had wanted to embower her as his princess. Deep. why do you need to do this? You have the lot. but not me." "You ever coming back?" "I don't think so. The point is you're defying me to protect my son. giving her something to feel sinful about. And from what Pru lets drop. how close I came.

" "That's because idiotic laws make it illegal." "Then it can't be such a very little deal. he falls asleep. too weak or rude to stand." She closes her eyes and wordlessly thinks of all the misery sex has caused the world. don't joke. and all the time you're eating. the spaces are long and low and lined in tasteful felt gray like that cocky stewardess's cap and filled with the kind of music you become aware of only when the elevator stops or when the dentist stops drilling. that machine is you. It smells of all the insurance policies Ron sold to buy its furnishings. He tells her.