Without warning, a flash of movement, and a small thin figure dashed from behind window drapes and dived onto the sofa. The camouflage gear was gone, and the boy wore only undershorts.
“There you are,” Steve said.
Bobby tucked his knees under his chin, scrunched into a corner of the sofa, and rocked back and forth. He was so skinny that his protruding ribs looked like the struts of a sailboat under construction. His long hair needed cutting, and his black glasses were smudged. His feet were bare, and his head was tilted sideways so that one ear nearly touched a shoulder. A sudden pang struck Victoria. The boy seemed mentally disabled. Maybe physically, too.
“Bobby, this is Victoria Lord,” Steve said.
“Hello, Bobby,” Victoria said cheerfully, trying to put the boy at ease. She walked to the sofa and extended a hand, but the boy shrank farther into the cushions.
“Bobby doesn't like to be touched,” Steve said, tightening the towel around his waist. In the light, Victoria noticed he kept in shape. Good pecs and shoulders. She looked away, wishing he'd get dressed.
“Victoria's my friend,” Steve said.
For the sake of the child, she decided not to contradict him.
“She's not going to take you away,” Steve continued in a gentle voice he never employed in court. “You remember what I told you about her?”
“She's a rich bitch-kitty with a wicked tongue,” Bobby said, matter-of-factly.
“Isn't that sweet?” Victoria said, forcing a smile.
“Uncle Steve said something else, too.” The boy's voice grew deeper: “She's pretty and smart and the best rookie lawyer I've ever seen.”
Surprised, Victoria turned to Steve. “You said that?”
“Bobby only speaks the truth. He couldn't tell a lie if he wanted to.”
“What an odd couple you make.”
“And he said you don't have Rudnicks,” the boy added.
“That's enough, Bobby,” Steve said.
“Rudnicks?” She'd never heard the word.
“Sneakers,” Steve said. “Like Reeboks.”
“No they're not,” Bobby said.
Victoria shot Steve a look, but he wouldn't give anything away. “Bobby's a very special kid,” he said, pride in his voice.
“I'm just a spaz who's good at stuff nobody cares about.”
“I'm sure you're much more than that,” Victoria said.
A voice interrupted them. “You coming back to bed, Steve?”
Coming from a hallway was a young woman with long, dark hair. She looked familiar to Victoria, who was distracted, perhaps because the woman wore nothing but gold hoop earrings and a black beaded thong. Her breasts were round and full, her nipples pointed inward, like slightly crossed eyes. Now Victoria had two chests not to stare at.
“Oops,” the woman said, trying to cover her breasts with hands too small for the task.
“Those are Rudnicks,” Bobby said, pointing at the woman's chest.
“Oh, Ms. Lord,” the woman said. “I didn't know…”
Of course. Sofia Hernandez. The court reporter with the peekaboo blouse, the available phone number… and the large boobs.
“Hello, Sofia,” Victoria said, then turned to Steve. “Maybe I should go.”
“Hang on a second.” He was headed down the hallway toward the bedroom.
Again Bobby dropped his voice into a perfect impersonation of his uncle's: “Dr. Harold Rudnick is a skilled plastic surgeon, a diplomat in the Academy. His trademark is a full contour of the breast, rotund without being pendulous. If the plaintiff wanted anything but the traditional Rudnick rack, she should have informed the doctor.”
“Word for word from Steve's closing argument,” Sofia told Victoria, her arms folded under her own rotund Rudnicks. “He got me a free boob job just for being the court reporter. You want, I bet Steve could get you a discount.”
What was the polite reply to such an offer? Victoria didn't know.
“I mean, yours got a nice shape,” Sofia continued. “You just need some size.”
I'm on a strange planet in a distant galaxy. How did I get here?
Steve came back into the room, carrying Victoria's missing shoe and wearing sweatpants, thank God. He tossed a man's shirt to Sofia.
“The old Rudnicks were silicone,” Bobby said. “Some funky chunky neurotoxins.”
Victoria wished they would change the subject. Sofia slipped into the shirt but didn't button it. She looked like one of those magazine ads that seemed to suggest: Sex was grand, let's drink some vodka.
“Methyl ethyl ketone,” Bobby continued. “Cyclohexanone, acetone, polyvinyl chloride, xylene, ethyl acetate, benzene-”
“Stop showing off,” Steve said.
“Kid's brilliant,” Sofia said. “Sometimes I wish I was an idiot savant.”
“I'm not an idiot, you twat,” Bobby said.
“Bobby! That's an ugly, ugly word,” Sofia said.
“No it's not,” Bobby said. “‘Twat. Noun, seventeenth century. Slang for vulva, related to thwaite, meaning forest clearing.'”
“You've memorized the dictionary?” Victoria asked.
“Not all of it. Wanna play the name game?”
“I don't know how.”
“Give him a famous name,” Steve said.
“George W. Bush,” Victoria said.
The boy squinted behind his thick lenses and chewed his lip. Then he smiled for the first time, revealing two rows of shiny braces. “HE GREW BOGUS!”
“Good one,” Steve said.
“It's called an angiogram,” Sofia said.
“Anagram,” Bobby corrected.
“How did you do that?” Victoria asked.
“Letters float around in my head, and I catch them. Give me another name.”
“Monica Lewinsky,” Victoria said.
Bobby fidgeted a moment, then said, “INSANE MILKY COW.”
“Wow,” Victoria said.
Steve sat down on the sofa. “Bobby suffered sensory deprivation-”
“When Mom locked me in a dog cage for, like, a year,” Bobby said.
“Oh, God,” Victoria said.
“Bobby's left brain sort of shut down,” Steve said. “Limbic memory, logical and sequential thinking. But his right brain took off. Striatal memory, habit and procedural thinking.”
“I can memorize stuff,” Bobby said.
“We've been reading a lot of medical journals together,” Steve said.
“We're best buds,” Bobby said. “I'm gonna live with Uncle Steve until I'm old enough to hook up with Jenna Jameson.”
“Is she from the neighborhood?” Victoria asked.
“Duh.”
“She's an actress,” Steve said.
“I don't think I've seen her movies,” Victoria said.
“Jennatilia,” Bobby said. “Lip Service. Cum One, Cum All.”
“I should be going,” Victoria said.
“Will you come back?” Bobby asked.
