“Nick says the guy who does these stands around his friends’ bedrooms and when they’re asleep, he does this.” John, Joel was pointing to the figures on the bed, and Parker, beside him, was staring at them.
“Creepy,” Parker said.
“I bet he gets a hundred thousand for that,” John Joel said.
“What does he do? He puts plaster on his friends, like Gold-finger, or something?”
“I don’t know. Nick said he watched them.”
“Who’d go to sleep with somebody watching them? And if he’s such a rich artist, how come he knows people who’ve got such lousy mattresses? They look like rafts with the air going out of them. You know the way a raft curls up before it flattens out?”
“You’re the one who wanted to come.”
“Hey. You mentioned it. I didn’t even know there was a show.”
“You wanted to come, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t say the stuff was bad. I just said the guy who did it must be a weirdo.”
“You want to look at other stuff?”
“Nah. What about an éclair?”
“There’s food downstairs, but I don’t think they have stuff like éclairs.”
“Let’s get the train. My feet are starting to hurt. Too bad I didn’t see this thing this morning. It might have given me something to talk to my shrink about. I could have said it was something I was doing this summer. The shrink always wants me to do things. Shrink sits around behind his desk all day, and I should be out running around so I can report on it.”
“What do you go to a shrink for, anyway?”
“Same reason you’re getting braces. My parents made me.”
“What did they make you for?”
“Because they’ve all gone to shrinks. Who knows.”
“Maybe you’re really sick, Parker.”
“Sure. Look at me. I’m sick. I’m hot and hungry, that’s all.”
“I’ve only got ten bucks left.”
“Ten bucks? I thought you had twenty.”
“No. Ten.”
“For the train and everything?”
“Yeah.”
“We’ve still got enough for éclairs,” Parker said.
They took the elevator downstairs and went to the counter and got the package. “Ugly bug,” Parker said, in falsetto, when he took the package, pretending to be staring at the picture of the woman inside through the wrapping. “Ugly, ugly, ugly,” he chanted in a high squeak.
They walked up to Park Avenue and got a cab. Parker sat on the jump seat and smoked a cigarette, facing John Joel. “I wonder if it’s worth anything. Some of those old pictures are. We could sell it and I’d say I lost it. She’s always yelling about something.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Sure. What am I supposed to do, take this thing home and have to look at it?”
“You don’t know where to sell a picture.” Parker thought it over. He didn’t.
“I wish I had money,” Parker said. “How can I get some money?”
“What do you want it for?”
“I just want it.”
“You don’t have any relatives?”
“I’ve got an uncle in Maine who’s an alcoholic. He floats those little bottles of vanilla extract in the toilet tank. He’s real crazy. He and his wife are poor. They’re not going to give me any money.”
“That’s the only relative you’ve got?”
“A cousin I never see in Greenwich.”
“You don’t even have other kids in your family. You’re lucky.”
“If I had them, I’d get rid of them.”
“Sure. Drown them like the kittens.”
“My mother stopped me. I would have drowned them.”
“You wouldn’t have. You were just waiting for her to stop you.”
“Old alley cat. Wasn’t even ours.”
“You liked them,” John Joel said. “Did I tell you about how our dog got hit by a car? It was sort of my mother’s dog. It ran out into the street and smoosh! It was all over the road. She talks about it all the time. ‘My dog, my dog, my dog.’ ”
“I can see liking a dog. Not an old alley cat.”
“So why’d you try to kill all the kittens?”
“My mother wanted me to. Then she changed her mind.”
“She changed her mind because she was just joking, and you freaked her out.”
“Lay off,” Parker said. “I’m not a sissy like you. I’ll do things. You think I’m the only person that ever thought to get rid of kittens?”
“I’m not a sissy,” John Joel said.
“Oh yeah? You let your sister do anything she wants to you.”
“Come off it.”
“You do.” Parker threw the package onto the seat of the cab. “Tear it up.”
“For what? What would that prove?”
“That you’d do something. Go ahead and do it. Or did you think she was pretty?”
“Yeah. She was real pretty. She was your type, Parker.”
“So get rid of her,” Parker said.
“Yeah. Then you’ll tell your mother I ripped it up.”
“I’m not taking it home. Are you going to rip it, or am I?”
“Lexington Avenue okay?” the cab driver said.
“Okay,” John Joel said.
“Go ahead,” Parker said.
“Leave it in the cab if you don’t want it. I don’t want it.”
“You’re afraid to do it.”
“You’re afraid. So you’re trying to put it on me.” John Joel paid the cab driver. They got out and walked into Grand Central.
“What’s the matter with you? I bought you hamburgers and French fries and a milkshake, and you want an éclair out of me, and you’re not speaking to me.”
“Nothing’s the matter. You just won’t admit that you’re a coward.”
“Okay. I’m a coward. Now snap out of it.”
“Yeah. You’re saying that, but you don’t believe it.”
“Jesus,” John Joel sighed.
“I might not have a lot of friends, but you don’t either.”
“Jesus. What’s this, I’m with a five-year-old?”
“What did you talk about the cats for?”
“They never got to be cats. Your mother gave them away. They’re gone. Big fucking deal. An alley cat.”
“Tear it up. Go on,” Parker said, shoving the corner of the package against John Joel’s arm.
“You’re gonna make me mad, Parker. I’m gonna leave you here and get on the train without you.”
“I’ve got eight bucks.”
“Okay. Then pay for your own ticket. And stop hassling me.”
Parker got in line for a ticket. John Joel stood in the line opposite him and watched him out of the corner of his eye. Parker was sweating. It was hot in the station, but not that hot. Parker got this way a lot: He’d harp on something that didn’t make any sense to begin with, and he wouldn’t quit until somebody really sat on him. He was always shoved around in school. In fact, John Joel didn’t really pal around with Parker in school. It was easy to avoid Parker, because Parker was twelve, and two classes ahead of him. When Parker wasn’t around, he’d laugh with the other kids at things Parker said and did. But during the summer he saw a lot of Parker. Parker was always coming over, and nobody else called him when school was over. He called people a couple of times to see if they were home, but their parents always answered, so he couldn’t be sure. He hung up when their parents answered.
Parker got his ticket first and walked away, heading for the gate. John Joel wondered if Parker would wait for him, or if Parker expected him to find him on the train. He decided that if Parker wasn’t waiting, he wasn’t going to look for him. He didn’t care if Parker’s mother gave him a ride home from the station or not. He’d call his own mother. She didn’t like Parker, and if he told her they’d had a fight, she’d probably be glad.
Parker was waiting, just inside the gate. He was standing and watching a woman arguing with a man. The man was in his early twenties and he had a magazine that he was trying to give the woman, and she was objecting. She tried to involve one of the conductors in the discussion, but he walked past the two of them as if they weren’t there. A lot of people began to come through the gate; a few looked at the two people quarreling, but nobody but Parker actually stood and watched. John Joel tried to get his attention so he’d move — they always kept the doors on the damn train closed until you’d walked half the length of it, and John Joel wanted to get on the train, where it might be cool. He sighed and stared at Parker.