14

“So, my man,” said Dougie, plopping himself down big-as-you-please beside Wayne in the Monopoly employees’ cafeteria.

Dougie had a way of just making himself at home that really scorched Wayne. He thought it was rude.

“How they hanging?”

Wayne didn’t even bother to answer. He just kept on eating his burger, washing it down with gulps of cola. He’d think about something he liked, fountain cherry colas and French fries with lots of ketchup at the Walgreen’s when he was a little kid, that’d do it, keep his mind off Dougie so he didn’t turn around and put his fist through the wuss’s mouth.

“So.” Dougie leaned closer. Wayne could smell his breath mints. In Wayne’s opinion, only drunks and fairies used the things. He thought the Certs people ought to be bombed. If he could ever find their factory, he would—by remote.

Or maybe he’d blow up Dougie. Now, that would be a sight. Little bits of Dougie so fine you’d think somebody just sneezed on you. The thought made Wayne grin.

“Glad to see you feeling so good.” Dougie slapped him on the back. “I guess you love working for Uncle Tru.”

Uncle Tru. He always called Mr. F that. In case you’d forgotten that he was the Only Begotten Nephew.

Just about then Big Gloria strolled by.

“Hey, Gloria,” Wayne called to her. He liked Gloria. She made him laugh. And, he thought, she probably had the hots for him since she’d seen him land a good one on that pretty boy out in the hall yesterday. She’d probably want to be laying something sweet on him. He ought to chat her up. Besides which, he’d do anything so Dougie would stop talking to him.

But Gloria shook her head and kept moving. Her face had a great big frown on it. What the hell? Probably her time of the month. Women. All in all, they were more trouble than they were worth.

“So?” Dougie always started that way. So? So? So? Wayne really wanted to belt him. “So I guess you get lots of good stuff on your tapes, huh, Wayne? You keep copies of the really hot ones, or you just erase them after you’ve checked them out?”

Dougie had that look on his face like he’d like to come up and watch Wayne’s tapes. All of them. Any of them. Yeah, Wayne had seen his kind before. Just liked to watch. Wayne liked to watch, too, but he had a purpose. It was his job, part of his innate worth to Mr. F.

“Uh-huh,” Wayne grunted. “I got every high-roller suite in the whole place wired. Mr. F keeps his finger on the pulses that way. You know, you see the guys practicing, the ones who count cards. It’s not just stealing towels, you know.” Maybe if he threw Dougie something, anything, he’d go away.

“Uncle Tru says you can make people do things, too, with that subliminal stuff. He said you’re a regular electronic wizard. Tell me about it.” Dougie cozied closer, close enough to kiss him on the mouth.

Wayne jerked back. Guys around them were gonna start moving away too, maintenance guys over at the next table’d think Wayne was some kind of fruit.

“It’s nothing,” Wayne mumbled.

“What’d you make them do, Wayne? Come on, tell Dougie.”

Tell Dougie. Tell Dougie. He’d tell Dougie, all right. “I work magic. I make ’em think they can do anything,” Wayne blurted.

“Really? Gee, Wayne.” Dougie scratched the top of his pointed little head. “Like what?”

“Like break the bank. Like walk on water.”

“Walk on water, that’s great.”

“Yeah, just like you. I make ’em think they’re Jesus Christ, Mary, and Joseph rolled into one worthless little fart.”

It took Dougie a minute to get it, to realize that Wayne had actually had the nerve to insult him. With that, Dougie jumped up and stomped out of the cafeteria on his short legs, his shoulders stiff and huffy in his navy blue blazer.

The guys from maintenance over at the next table, who’d also had a bellyful of Dougie’s guff, were laughing like crazy. “Way to go, Wayne,” one of them hollered.

Wayne gave him the high sign, then went back to his third burger. He was seriously thinking about getting up and grabbing another order of fries.

Then his pale blue eyes narrowed into slits as his mind slid back to what he’d said to Dougie. Yeah, he had. He’d worked some magic, all right. Or almost. It was tougher to do in actuality than on the video monitor.

Oh, well. So sometimes things didn’t work out exactly as you’d planned. He took another bite of his burger.