“Get your fucking hands in the air!”
I looked over at Frank, who was staring right at me. A cop came up behind me and pulled my arms behind my back and cuffed me. Frank was slumped over on the stool, leaning against the bar.
“Will somebody help him, damn it? Forget about me. Help him!”
One cop went over to Frank.
“Hang in there, buddy,” I said. “You just hang in there.”
Frank was looking at me, his eyes half shut.
“Let’s go,” one of the cops behind me said.
“Don’t die,” I said to Frank. “Whatever you do—don’t die. You have to make it out to Arizona, buddy. You’re gonna love it out there.”
“Come on,” one cop said to me, and the other one said, “Move it.”
I tried to turn around, to look at Frank again, but I couldn’t.
“See you tomorrow!” I yelled as the cops pushed me out the door.
