Page 112 of Nearly Roadkill
Finally Scratch said to Winc, “I don’t see how it’s going to work in the real world. There’s so much involved. I wish I was bigger than I am, but I guess I’m just not.”
Winc got that other smile on hir face then. Someone else’s smile. Ze sat way back in hir seat. “Then I guess I should say it’s been nice to meet you,” ze finally said, “and have a good life.”
I felt like I’d been hit with a jolt from a million light sockets. But Scratch didn’t move.
“Oh, that’s very Ingrid Bergman, my friend, but this isn’t the movies,” Scratch said in a kind of drawl. Ze was grinning! And kept right on talking.
“Don’t you realize that we’re just getting started? Don’t you realize we’re at some kind of precipice, instead of stuck inside some theory!”
I didn’t really get what Scratch was talking about, but I did like the grin. Winc looked surprised too, but ze still had a guarded face.
“What do you mean?” ze asked, kind of huffing up. “I wasn’t being dramatic, I was—”
“I know, but darlin’, you’re not the only one with the good lines here. What about my freak status? My idea of a good time would be to walk off into the sunset with a woman, a wolf, or my computer. Not a husband. But probably not a wife either.”
“Oh, so I’m messing up the dream because I’m not a real woman?”
Scratch winced big. “I don’t think that’s what it is. I came here ready to deal with your being a guy, to being straight and narrow all over again. I’m still stuck on what I’m going to be now. When the thought of being a straight anything makes me want to choke!”
They looked at each other. Then Scratch looked back at me.
“Oh, Jesus, Toobe, this must be awful for you, pal. I mean, Mom and Dad are fighting. I’m sorry. I really am.”
I got kind of mad, then, but I still didn’t know why I was crying. “You’re not Mom and Dad! You’re Scratch and Winc. I don’t know why that’s not good enough for you!”
Scratch swung hir head back at Winc like a gangster. “He’s hit it on the head again, you know dat, shweet-hawt?”
Winc just said “Yeah,” eyes all misty and clouded and really beautiful too.
They just sat there, a kind of truce, I think, or at least an agreement not to pick at this gaping wound that looked like it would spew all over the place again.
Then Scratch looked up at the TV on the wall of the diner, and there was a story about us! There was Coney Island, there were cops, there were walkie-talkies, helicopters, and an anchorman doing a standup and everything!
You wouldn’t believe how fast somebody with a mustache can get his check. We were outta there.
END TOOBE ENTRY
10THREE BLIND MICE
NARRATIVE ENTRY, JABBATHEHUT
Lieutenant Wallace Budge crumples up the empty popcorn bag in his lap. “Tell me again,” he says very patiently, the kind of patience that makes an underling nervous, “exactly what you saw. Just one more time for me, please.”
The uniform in front of him takes a deep breath. “We hadn’t gotten your memo yet, sir, so all we had to go on was a young white male, adolescent, or some threesome including a young, white…” His voice trails off.
“Yes, I understand. Go on,” says Budge, oh-so-courteously.
“So we go to Nathan’s, like we’d been advised.”
Budge is on him like a hawk. “Nathan’s? Why Nathan’s?”
“Umm… we were hungry, sir, and our dispatcher said they had the best damn hot dogs. And they do. I’ve never tasted such good—”
“Uh-huh,” Budge interrupts. “So you’re at Nathan’s. And did you see a threesome fitting the description they’ve got at the gate?”
“What? The guy, his daughter, and his wife?”
“Yes, those would be the ones.”
