“You sure don?t volunteer much,” the Kid said.
“It was kind of a personal thing,” I said. “I used to know Titan, a long time ago.”
“How come you showed up out here?” I asked.
“It was Dutch?s idea for Zapata to come out. He said you get in trouble when you?re out alone. I was
following Graves.”
“Very astute of Dutch.”
“No sweat. Is it any of my business what the flick you were doin? out here?”
“O?Brian?s button is running scared. He wants an escort out of town.”
“Did he give up anything for it?”
I laughed. “I?m not really sure,” I said. “According to him it?s just one big happy family out there.”
“You believe that?” the Kid asked.
“Sure. I also believe in the tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny.”
“Must bum your ass, puttin? in all that work on this bunch and they get wasted all over the place.”
“I don?t like murder,” I said, “no matter who the victims are.”
He was quiet for a moment, then he said:
“My stepfather told me once, you take two violins which are perfectly tuned, okay, and you play one,
the other one also plays.”
“No kidding,” I said, wondering what in hell violins had to do with anything.
“The old fart was full of caca,” the Kid went on, “but he played the violin. Not good, but he at least
played the fuckin? thing. I couldn?t do it, man. Me and the violin, it was war at first sight. Anyways, I
figure he?s probably right on that score.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, wondering what he was leading up to. Then he told me.
“He only told me one other thing in my whole life that I remember, and that didn?t make any sense to
me at the time. Shit, I was just a kid; it was later on I figured it out, what he meant, I mean. Anyways,
what it was, I was pissed off, see, because my best friend at the time didn?t always see things exactly
the way I did. The old man says, „Trouble with you, Fry?—he called rue Fry „cause I was small as a
kid; that always pissed rue off too— „trouble with you, Fry, you think everybody sees things the same
as you.? Then he reaches down, scratches his ankle. „My foot itches. That?s reality to me. Yours don?t.
That?s reality to you.? That?s it; he goes back to the sports page.
“So, y?know, I?m maybe eight, nine, at the time, what do I know from reality and itching feet. I figure
the old man?s temporarily unwired. Twenty years later I?m after this creep in the French Quarter, a
three-time loser facing a felony; I get him, he?s down for the full clock, right? Son of a bitch is always
one step a-fuckin?-way, I can?t quite lay my hand on him. I?m thinkin? I know this guy better than
