“No it’s not, sir,” Frecklie chimed in.
“Are you telling me how to conduct business of the Sport Commission?”
Puppy stepped between them; Frecklie was young and stupid enough to throw a punch.
“If you want the stadium to really resonate as a museum to treason, what better way than to use all DVs since so many of the Miners were?”
Kenuda liked and disliked that argument.
“Besides, this gives them training. Remember Grandma’s Twenty-Second Insight?”
Elias looked at Hazel again, who shrugged. “Not at the tip of my fingers.”
“The goal is to have no disappointments in the Family,” Puppy said with an even smile. “Having the DV kids take this on will help them get into Reg schools and out of the Village. It’ll make them learn more of their history and become better siblings. It’s a win up and down the line.”
“They cost more,” Boccicelli blurted, thinking of all that toilet paper.
Kenuda didn’t even look at him. “That’s your profit, not mine.” He stared at Puppy. “No ‘bots?”
Puppy made a zero with his thumb and forefinger. The owners nearly fainted.
“That would cause a great deal of problems with the Little Extended Family,” Elias said very softly.
Puppy grinned. “Probably would, sir.”
Kenuda slowly smiled, thinking sweet vindictive thoughts.
• • • •
PUPPY WAITED ON a concrete bench outside Zelda’s office building. He handed her a sandwich. She sniffed, surprised.
“This smells almost edible.” Zelda shook the sandwich suspiciously, catching a tomato before it hit the ground. “What’d you do to get this?”
“It’s from Mooshie. I woke up this morning and found real coffee, too.
Zelda laughed. “That sounds like song lyrics.”
“Could be. She’s always singing, writing.” Puppy nervously played with the crust of his sandwich.
Zelda grunted vaguely, wallowing in the glory of the lunch. She finished with a dreamy smile, peering at him.
“What’s up, Pup? Usually you’d have scarfed down your sandwich and been halfway through mine by now. Wait, that’s me.”
He shrugged uneasily. “I have a small favor to ask.”
“There are no small favors between friends, just large expectations.”
Puppy sighed. “I saw Annette the other day.”
“How’s the Queen of Bitches?”
“Lovely as always.”
“Castrated and insulted you?”
“What else is new?”
Zelda had almost stopped their wedding, knowing in her heart that it would be wrong, that Puppy deserved better. Annette was a cold, haughty asshole masquerading as a human being long enough to corral Puppy, never appreciating him, trying to remake him, clenching her groin at her superior Reg parents by marrying a DV. All of this Zelda had seen, dropping subtle hints like “she really doesn’t love you, she’s mean, you’ll regret marrying her, do you really want her to breed,” and other light-hearted remarks.
By the wedding, when it was real, when Puppy stood in the Family Entrance room before the large mural of Grandma, Zelda about blew. Pablo had dragged her away, pouring champagne funnel-like down her throat until she could reluctantly fulfill her role as best person, quietly and respectfully and dead drunk at Puppy’s side.
“I only have a forty-five minute lunch hour.” Zelda wiped the mustard onto her sleeve. “Someone came up with the idea of chopping celery into salmon salad. Folks are dancing in the hallways.”
“Annette’s about to be engaged to Elias Kenuda, the Sport Commissioner…”
“I know who he is, Pup. You don’t have to say more.” Zelda frowned. “She’s using that against you somehow.”
He nodded glumly.
“Let me guess. She’ll say shitty things about you to Kenuda.”
“She already has a little. Nothing too untrue.”
“Like what?” Zelda grew angry. “You were the perfect husband.”
“Not really, Zel.”
“You were always loving. You didn’t drink, hit her, cheat, be an asshole.”
Puppy accepted the compliments. “Obviously that wasn’t enough and let’s please please not relive my marriage. This is now. She’s threatened to sabotage baseball unless I get engaged super quick.”
“What’s super quick?”
Puppy held up a finger. “As in a week.”
“Bitch bitch bitch.” She finished Puppy’s sandwich.
“So I thought, temporarily, maybe, you know.”
She stared into Puppy’s eyes and felt sick. “You and me?”
“Yes,” he said enthusiastically. “Just so she can get officially engaged and off my back. Soon as they’re married, boom, we’re history. I’ll take the blame, incontinence, impotence, it’ll go on my record. I don’t care.”
“We have to show a line of courtship or they’ll think we’re faking to break the rules.”
“Lifelong friends turn into lovers.”
“Great story.”
“I know, right? Who wouldn’t believe that?”
“We’d fool Grandma herself.”
“Exactly.” He clasped her shoulder.
“Exactly,” she repeated dully. “And what do I tell Diego?”
“The boy?”
Her voice hardened. “Yeah, the boy, Puppy.”
“I thought that was just another ride.”
“On Zelda’s slut-a-rama?” She shoved him.
“No. But he’s a…” Puppy ran a steady hand past his chin. Only so high.
Zelda inhaled so deeply her mouth went dry. “He’s no Puppy Nedick.”
“All right, that sucked, I’m sorry…”
“Just go away, Puppy.”
He frowned. “You really like that kid?”
“Go away.”
He smiled. “Shit. Shit. You’re in love.”
Zelda pushed him off the bench. “Maybe I am.”
“That’s great.”
“Who knows, Puppy? Probably end up like you, divorced, breaking the law, alone, bitter.”
“Forget I asked about…”
“Pathetic, sad…”
“Okay, Zelda.”
“I probably should accept your generous offer because no relationship I’ve ever had worked anyway so why should this.”
“I really think we need to talk.”
“Get the hell out of here or I’ll kick your ass and you know I can.”
He tried one more time. “Zel.”
Zelda pointed a trembling finger at the subway entrance.
“Will you at least accept my apology?”
“No.” She brushed away tears. “And leave the fucking potato chips.”
• • • •
BETH GOT LOST the first time she’d visited, wandering along Bruckner Boulevard, her heart pounding as if she’d lost him; the priest had died years ago and there couldn’t be any records. She hadn’t paid attention to the original drive in the dark, the many turns north and south, east and west, in case someone were following the Chevy with her dead husband in the trunk. Finally after running up and down the streets for two hours, sheer hysteria waxed a little memory and she found the courtyard of the broken building on East 156nd Street.
She brushed aside the weeds, kneeling before
