when it was warm, rainy, and pleasant.
The Lab was lying in the sun on the front step when I arrived at Barry Gordon's little house. He didn't bark this time. Maybe he remembered me. Or maybe he was too comfortable in the sun to bother. I reached down and scratched him behind the ear before I knocked on the door.
Barry said 'Hey' when he opened the door.
I said 'Hey' in return and shoved him back into his living room and shut the door behind me.
'Whaddya doing, man?' Barry said.
I walked to him until my chest was against his and my face was maybe an inch from his face, if I bent my neck.
'Hey, man,' Barry said. 'What the fuck?'
'Barry,' I said. 'You have been bullshitting me.'
'Like hell.'
'I hate it when people bullshit me.'
'I never bullshitted you, man.'
'Why does Evelina Karnofsky send you money every month?' I said.
'I don't know who that is, man. Honest to God.'
I slapped him with my open right hand across the face. It was hard enough to make him stagger two steps sideways. He put his forearms up on either side of his face.
'I didn't do nothing,' he said. 'I didn't do nothing.'
'This can get a lot worse, Barry. Tell me about Evelina Karnofsky.'
'I can't, man. I don't know nothing. '
I hit him again. His forearms were still protecting his face, but the blow rocked him sideways again and scared him more than it hurt him. He doubled up with his hands clasped over his head.
'Evelina?' I said.
He didn't say anything. It was hard to slap him, doubled up like he was, so I punched him lightly in the left kidney. He fell. I hadn't hit him hard enough to knock him down. He was on the floor now, his arms around his head, his knees up, trying to curl into a ball.
'Evelina?' I said.
He stayed where he was. I gave him a friendly kick in the side.
'Evelina?'
'Stop it. Don't kick me. I'll tell you. Stop it.'
'Sure,' I said.
I reached down and helped him up. Upright, he stayed bent over as if he'd been shot in the stomach. Lucky, I hadn't hit him hard. He'd have probably died.
'I need to sit down,' he said.
'Sure.'
'Gimme a minute, man, lemme get myself together.'
'Take your time,' I said.
When necessary, one could play good cop/bad cop alone.
He sat and started to make himself a joint. His hands were shaking. The left side of his face was red where I'd slapped him. He got the joint assembled. And lit. And he took a deep, long drag on it and held it in as long as he could before he exhaled slowly. He studied the burning end of the joint for a moment. Then he leaned forward a little and put his elbows on his knees and looked straight at me.
'Daryl ain't really my daughter,' he said.
'She know that?' I said.
'No.'
'Tell me about it.'
'I don't know all about it,' Barry said. 'Just the part I know about, you know?'
'Tell me that part,' I said.
He took another long drag on the reefer. 'Me and Emily was living in a house downtown,' Barry said, 'with Bunny and a couple black dudes, a guy named Abner, and a guy named Leon.'
He smoked some more.
'And Abner and Bunny kind of paired off. And me and Emily got together. And Leon was mostly bringing home, you know, the harlot of the night.'
The joint was gone. He made another one, calmer now, his hands steady as he talked. I waited. He spent awhile getting the joint together and getting it lit.
'So who had the, ah, fling with Emily?' I said.
