Toby

I was explaining to my new partner how we had to loosen up my mom, how they had to keep on playing the children of Fatima, at least for a while. Then Lou said something I didn’t hear.

I turned to her. “Come again?”

“Can I hold it for a minute?” She meant the rock.

“Right, so you can go running off with it?”

“I won’t,” she promised.

“See now, that’s a lie. What you just said right there, young lady, is a lie. And I’m trying to remember, what was it you told me? Oh yeah, ‘Liars go to Hell,’ that was it.”

She looked at me like she was either going to spit in my face or start crying, but all she did was turn away and stick her hand on her hip.

“By the way,” I said, “thanks a lot for twisting my tit like that. I haven’t forgot. And I won’t forget. I won’t ever forget.” I leaned a little closer. “Someday you’re gonna have tits, and you know what? I’m gonna come around and show you how it—”

“Hey, shut up.”

That was Ralph.

I turned to him, slowly. “Excuse me, did you just tell me...to shut up?”

He just kept staring at me straight in the eye, taking these hard steady breaths through his nose. Some of these skinny types can be dangerous when they’re mad, like rabid animals. Be that as it may, I could flatten him out if I got on top of him, like before. But that could be tricky, especially with the little one to worry about—I already seen what she could do. Besides, I didn’t want to lose them now, just when I was about to make use of them. But I wasn’t about to back down, no way. How could I still be the boss then?

So this was kind of a tricky spot.

Then good old Mr. Pappas helped me out. He started shouting out some gobbledygook with his gums, and Ralph looked over at him.

“All right, Mr. Pappas,” I hollered back. “I’ll tell him. I don’t know if he’ll listen but I’ll tell him.”

“Tell me what,” Ralph said.

“Oh, just, you know, about not fighting, how it’s better if people try and pull together, like Jesus always taught. And y’know? Let’s face it. The old geezer’s got a point. Don’t you think?”

He shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” I put out my hand.

He looked at it.

“How ‘bout it, partner,” I said.

He put out his hand.

We shook.

His palm was clammy like a fish and the fingers all knuckley and disgusting.