“You know that friend of Dad’s with one eye that’s always mostly closed?”
“Buzzy Shy. His real name is Enzo Buozzi. What about him?”
“A waiter at the Saxony said Buzzy wanted to give him five dollars to let him kiss his fly.”
“Who told you that?”
“I heard him tell Eddie C.”
“Heard who?”
“Freddy, the waiter. Why would Buzzy want to kiss Freddy’s fly?”
“Did Buzzy ever touch you, Roy?”
“He pinched me once on the cheek when I brought him a cigar Dad gave me to hand him. He gave me a quarter, then tried to pinch my face again, but I got away. It hurt.”
“Buzzy Shy is sick, baby. Stay away from him. Promise?”
“Promise. He doesn’t look sick.”
“The sickness is in his brain, so you can’t see it.”
“Eddie C. said for ten dollars Buzzy could kiss his ass and anything else.”
“Who’s Eddie C.?”
“A lifeguard. I think at the Spearfish.”
“These aren’t nice boys, Roy. I don’t want you talking to them.”
“I wasn’t talking to them, Mom, I was listening.”
“Don’t listen to them, either. I’ll talk to your dad about it. I don’t want Buzzy Shy bothering you.”
“Dad and Buzzy are friends.”
“Not really. Buzzy helps out sometimes, that’s all.”
“How did his eye get like that?”
“He was a prizefighter. Somebody shut it for him.”
“Maybe his brain got hurt, too.”
“I don’t know, baby. He was probably born with the problem in his head. Don’t go near him again.”
“Mom?”
“Yes, baby?”
“I like the sky like this, when it’s really red with only a tiny yellow line under it.”
“Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky at morning, sailor take warning.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Tomorrow will be a nice day on the ocean.”
“Sailor’s Delight would be a good name for a red Popsicle, don’t you think, Mom?”
“Yes, Roy, I do. Remember to tell your dad. I’m sure he knows someone in the Popsicle business.”