“In Bellona?” Siam asked.
Glass looked at Siam, realization in his face that he had been misunderstood. “No…” He hugged up the pillowcase. “I ain’t been in no fire in Bellona, except this one.”
“Where are we going to move?”
Denny said, “You want to go back to Lanya’s and see if she’ll put us—”
“Not on your fucking life,” Kid said.
“I mean,” Denny questioned, “you said she wasn’t mad at us none.”
“You got some place for us to move?” Copperhead asked.
“Nope,” Kid said. “Come on. We’ll find one.”
“Now we don’t want no place that’s gonna burn up again before we get in it,” Copperhead said. “Do we?”
Scorpions mumbled outside the circle of the lamp. Some carried mattresses, some cartons, some shovels and tools.
“Come on down this street,” and the cavalcade practically filled the alley. Trees had been planted and ringed with ornamental fences. But each trunk was charred to a black fork with twisted tines. “That wooden house must have gone up like a matchbook.”
“Naw,” Copperhead told him. “And nobody got hurt. Nobody didn’t really lose nothing they didn’t want to lose. We all got out in time.”
“I got the lion!”
Kid turned on Dollar’s pocked and stubbled grin.
“Man, I wouldn’t’ve left my lion behind for nothing. It’s the only fuckin’ thing I own. You got that for me, Kid, remember? You got that for me and I wouldn’t leave behind nothing like that for anything in the world, you know?”
“Denny…?”
Behind Dollar, she pushed her way forward. Her arms were full, her hair was tangled, and one heavy cheek was smudged.
“Denny, I got your stuff out!”
Her eyes, sweeping among them, caught Kid’s and swept away.
“Denny? I think I got it all…”
“Oh, wow!” Denny said. “Oh, hey, you did? Wow, that’s great!”
“Here: I got your shirts.” She caught up with them. “And—” she glanced up blankly at Kid; the heavy breasts in her blue sweatshirt pressed out against bags and packages. Her small, full fingers had left the brown paper sweaty so that it bellied between them—“and the posters down from your wall. And the picture books. I didn’t bring the blankets…I didn’t bring the blankets because I thought it wouldn’t be too hard to get some more blankets—”
“You got my radio?”
“Of course I got your radio. I think I got everything—there wasn’t very much—except the blankets.”
“I don’t care about the God-damn blankets,” Denny said. “You okay? I mean the house was burning down, and you were back up in there getting my stuff?” He took a paper bag from her—
“Oh, watch out…!”
—pulled Brass Orchids from his back pocket and dropped it inside.
“What’s that?”
“Nothin’. What you so curious about? Oh, hey! You got my game in there.”
“Un-huh. Denny?”
“Why don’t you let me carry the rest of those?”
“That’s all right. Denny?”
“What?”
“I don’t think me and my friend—”
She glanced back.
Kid did too.
The blond girl in the pea jacket was just behind them.
“—are going to stay with you guys anymore. I just wanted to bring you your stuff.”
“Hey,” Denny said. “Why not?”
“I don’t know.” She adjusted the other bags. “We just want to go somewhere else. We don’t want to be members. And we know some nice people who have a house where we thought we could stay. It’s just girls there.”
“Just girls?” Denny said. “You ain’t gonna have no fun there.”
“Boys can visit and stuff like that. Boys just don’t live there. I just don’t think I want to live with you guys anymore. I mean after the fire—” once more she glanced at Kid—“and everything. You know.”
“Jesus,” Denny said. “Jesus Christ. Well, I mean, I guess so, if you don’t want to anymore.”
“You can come visit me, too. If you want.”
“Shit,” Denny said. “God damn.”
“I just think it would be better. I mean if I live someplace else. It’s a very nice place. They’re very nice girls.”
Denny was looking into the bag.
She said: “I’m pretty sure I got everything. What are you looking for? If it’s not in there, it’s probably in here.”
“I’m not looking for anything.”
“Oh.”
The mask of Kid’s face tingled. Suddenly he turned to Copperhead. “You ever been in any of these houses?”
“No.”
“Let’s try that one.”
“Sure.”
Kid turned to the others. “Hey! Hold up there, will you?” He walked up the unpainted steps. Halfway, he glanced back:
She shifted paper bags in her arms, biting at her lip while trying to get them comfortable. Denny looked at her, then at Kid, then back at her. The others shuffled and talked.
In his hand, the knob’s squared and toothy shaft slid out another inch—
Kid pushed the door in.
The loose ceiling fixture—
He ran his eyes over the hall, waiting for sounds of occupancy.
The crayoning on the dirty wall—
He had the oddest feeling. “Anybody home?”
“Well, if they are,” Copperhead said, “they can damn well get ready to move the fuck out. ’Cause we come to pay a long visit, right?” Others laughed. Copperhead called up: “Does it look okay?”
“Yeah. It looks pretty…”
“Should we come on up?”
“Yeah, come on.”
At the end of the hall the bathroom door was open. Footsteps behind him passed around him; and somebody carrying the chained mannequin pushed by.
The house came alive with scorpions.
With a feeling of suspended confusion, he wandered through the front room into the kitchen.
Copperhead was looking in the cabinets above the sink. “Whole lot of canned stuff. That’s pretty good. Too bad they left all their garbage though.” A bag had broken under the table. The table was piled with garbage. The sink and the counter were heaped with dishes.
Kid decided he didn’t like it here.
Outside the screen door, the sky heaved and twisted like a chained thing.
He turned abruptly into the living room.
The blond girl in the pea jacket sat on the couch, fists between her knees, watching two scorpions lay out a mattress on the floor. She looked at Kid, hunched her shoulders, and looked back at the scorpions. She seemed very tired.
“Hey, man,” Dollar said behind his shoulder, “this is a really fine place.” Clutching his lion, he shouldered open a door across the hall. Several guys were inside, straightening out mattresses and sleeping bags. Dollar pushed his way among them to set the lion in the window. He turned, silhouetted before the torn window shade. The brass beast peered by his hip from the sill. “Hey, man. You shouldn’t have brought that old burned-up mattress with us. It’s gonna smell up the whole fuckin’ place.” On the ticking was a charred halo around a crater two feet across of ashes and burned cotton.
“It’s the only one I had,” the scorpion (another white guy named California) said, and yanked it across the floor. He dropped the corner to overlap another.
Newspaper and magazine pictures had been at one time pasted over the wall; then some of them ripped off.
A black scorpion Kid didn’t know stood up and grinned. “This sure beats the place we were staying, hey, Kid?” Squinting, he looked around. “Yeah, this is pretty nice.”