64

“Everett!” Teddy screamed. “Your hand!”

“Oh, my God,” Everett moaned, looking at his hand. What had he been thinking? How the hell was he supposed to hold a puppet if he broke a finger? “My hand.”

“What the fuck?” Richard said, holding his face. “I think you knocked out a tooth. I’m bleeding.”

“All right! That’s it!” Carlos shouted, walking between the men and Teddy. He pointed to Teddy. “You, in the back room. And both of you.” He pointed toward Richard and Everett. “Out of the store! Now!”

Carlos walked behind the two of them, as if he was afraid they wouldn’t really leave.

On the sidewalk, he crossed his arms and stared at them like he was their disappointed father. “Richard, you’re officially banned from the store. Which should be fine with you, since I heard there’s nothing in there an adult man needs.”

Richard scowled.

“Everett, you can come back tomorrow. You know, as long as Teddy says you can. Hope your hand’s okay.”

With a wave, he shut the door, leaving the two of them standing in the rain on the sidewalk. They stared at each other.

“I’m, uh . . . I’m sorry I punched you,” he said.

“You’re a real dick. You know that?” Richard said, wincing as he touched his face.

Everett lifted a shoulder. “That’s actually not the consensus among people who know me. In fact, I’d say you’re more of a dick. That’s why people call you Rick the Dick.”

Richard looked at him. “Who calls me that?”

Everett gestured vaguely toward the street. “Everyone.”

“You’re lucky that guy broke things up,” Richard muttered. “Because you don’t want to know what would’ve happened if I hit you back.”

“Oh, I am not concerned,” Everett said lightly. “Because here’s the thing, Rick. I don’t even believe in violence. I work with kids. Do you know that? I spend all day talking about how we need to use our words instead of our fists, and I believe that. Before tonight, I’d never hit another person in my entire life. I don’t even kill spiders; I put them in a cup and then release them outside. But there’s something about your face, specifically, that makes me want to hit you. And let me tell you something.”

He took a couple of steps until he was directly in front of Richard. He had to lean down to meet Richard’s eyes, and when he was an inch away from the other man’s face, so close that he could see a zit forming on Richard’s nose, he said, “If you ever lay a hand on her again—if you ever contact her—I will find out, wherever I am. And I will find you, and I will destroy you.”

Richard backed up and shook his head. “Who are you even?”

Everett started walking toward the parking garage without answering. But then he turned around, threw his hands in the air, and shouted, “I’m Everett St. Fucking James, you dick.”