“Have you ever had a Lifecard, sir?” the clerk asked.
“Not that I remember,” Mickey said. “Now I really gotta pee.”
Mantle bolted down the hallway, where he could be heard shouting “where’s the fucking bathroom this is a medical emergency.”
“It isn’t good to never have a Lifecard, is it?” Puppy asked once the commotion outside quieted down. The clerk shook his head. “What does it mean?”
“From my long experience, usually the person or persons…”
“There’s only one person involved. I have a Lifecard.”
“Person. For now.” The clerk raised a warning eyebrow. “It’s illegal.”
“Illegal.”
“Yes,” the clerk said meaningfully.
“Well, maybe, but he’s off in the head.”
“Yet you took him out of The Facility. If you’d kept him there, no one would’ve cared. Out here, he needs to live.”
“Isn’t it illegal either way?”
The clerk flushed. “Yes sir, it is illegal. My advice is to return him to The Facility. Sounds a little harsh. I know you people stick together.”
Puppy thought about how wonderful it would feel to hit the clerk in the face. “I’m a Reg now,” he forced out the words between clenched teeth.
The clerk’s eyes fluttered disdainfully. “I’ll do you a favor. I’ll mark this request pending and we’ll schedule another appointment for next week. That’ll give you an opportunity to decide what’s best for Mr. Mantle and the Family. It could be that he simply shouldn’t be out here, roaming around.”
“There was no fucking toilet paper.” Mick returned, zipping up his fly.
• • • •
ZELDA WALKED AROUND the couch, arms crossed, big brown eyes narrowing and widening as she inspected the sleeping Mick.
“He seems harmless.”
“Wait until his bladder wakes up.”
She rubbed Puppy’s arm. “I’m proud of you for doing something that goes against your grain.”
“It’s just until he gets on his feet, Zelda. Don’t get carried away.”
“I’m not.” She paused. “Those your old fat clothes?” She gestured at the blue flannel shirt and khaki pants fitting Mick like a blanket on an elephant.
“Better than his undies dipped in raw sewage.” Puppy shook his head, sitting on the edge of the chair. “What happens during the day when I have appointments?”
Zelda grinned. “Wall to wall, are we?”
“Yes. I’ve got the ex-spouse tomorrow.”
“Take Mickey. I’d love to see the bitch’s response.”
Puppy smiled at that. “I can’t take him anywhere without a Lifecard in case we get stopped.”
“Why would you?”
“Because he’s crazy. He went off on the way back when he saw some couples. Let’s say he’s not enlightened on how people might pair up.” Puppy shook his head. “How is someone not in the system?”
“That’s not his real name, stupid.” Zelda rolled her eyes. “Once he settles in…”
“Only for a few days…”
“Things will come back to him.”
Why choose that particular name? Puppy wondered. “So could you watch him tomorrow morning before school?”
“I’m kind of not at the school anymore.”
“I thought it was just probation?”
“I pulled out before it went on my record. This way it can be all so positive, Ms. Jones advanced the children’s artistic sensibilities and has now moved on to another constructive role in the Family. Fucking entitled Regs and their brats.”
“What’s the new constructive role?”
Zelda hesitated. “Marketing.”
He waited skeptically.
“Selling salmon.”
“Grandma’s anus, Zelda.”
“I’m practical. Saul’s Salmon is a great company.”
“I think I saw their advert,” Puppy said unhappily.
“The guy with the yellow slicker?” she asked. Puppy nodded. “That’s Howie Herman’s House of Gills. Our guy wears a purple slicker. Shows how important they are by using Grandma’s favorite color. Now with the government finally opening up fishing lanes for healthy fish instead of the faux shit we eat, there might be a real future.”
“With salmon.”
“Can you be a little more supportive since I hate myself for doing this?”
Puppy took her hand. “I don’t want you giving up things you love. Like I have to.”
“I’ll paint pictures of baseball players, how’s that?”
Mickey groaned and sat up, peeved at the two intruders. “You a girl?”
Zelda held out her hand. “Zelda Jones.”
Mickey held her palm a little too eagerly. “Because girls and boys ain’t the same here.”
“I’m a total girl. All original parts, Mr. Mantle.” Zelda modeled by walking around the couch. Puppy blinked Zelda a warning as Mick rubbed his hands together.
“So I see.” Mick smirked. “Your girlfriend’s a looker, kid.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Puppy said quickly.
“Just friends.” Zelda sat beside Mantle. “Childhood friends. See that scar?” She twisted her jaw to the left. “Some assholes threw rocks at me the day I moved into the DV. I was thirteen. My hero Puppy jumped off a wall and knocked two of them out cold and sent the third running and screaming.”
“Not before he got this.” Puppy pointed to a scar above his left eyebrow.
Mick grunted approval. “What’s a DV?”
Puppy and Zelda exchanged baffled looks. He took this one. “Disappointment Village, Mickey. You know, where the…” His voice trailed off, perplexed.
“I don’t know.”
Zelda squeezed Mick’s hand. “DVs are where people who fail have to live until they can get their shit together and find jobs or careers or something to prove they’re productive members of society. Sometimes they make it and sometimes they don’t. That doesn’t mean they’re bad people if they don’t.”
“A slum?” Mickey found a half bottle of beer on the floor and drained it.
“Slums, ghettos, those were places of filth and poverty where everyone gave up, Mickey,” Zelda continued in the sing song voice she reserved for when she wanted to be especially annoyingly patronizing. “DVs are places of genuine opportunity. Someday they’ll be all gone. Everyone will have a positive place in the Family.” She tossed a pained look at Puppy.
Mantle scratched his hand. “Sounds like a lot of crap. Speaking of…” He rumbled into the bathroom.
Zelda stared down the hallway. “Feel. Awful.”
Puppy picked up the empty beer bottles. “Good. You can do his dishes.”
• • • •
PUPPY HURRIED DOWN Jerome Avenue; either arriving a little late or a little early having the same mixed benefits of pissing off Annette. Ahead, cars crept along Fordham
