"Touched out," said Michael Florida.
"What?"
"No, that phrase. What's her name…" Michael Florida ran a leathery finger down his list. "Nadine. She said that was what she always told her husband. Touched out. Like 'Sorry, baby, I'm touched out tonight.' "
"What was her name again?" I said.
Michael Florida laughed.
"Oh, man. That's good. Don't worry. It's not your wife."
"I won't worry, Michael. I don't think you're her type."
"No? You sure?"
"I think I'm sure. Anyway, I should congratulate you. Your disease is really putting up big numbers."
"Thanks, man," said Michael Florida. "But really, just to put you at ease, most of these bitches are sad and fat. A few, though, I would have paid. There was this seventeen-year-old, yeah, this one, Vanessa. She was something. Thank God for Viagra."
"You take Viagra?"
"Only with the kids. The kids are so demanding. With somebody my age, I don't take the stuff. They get what they get. Anyway, how'd we start with all this? Crazy. Purdy told me to keep you entertained while you waited. Hope I entertained you."
"You did your job."
"Yeah," said Michael Florida, drank off the rest of his milk. "I do my job."
"Remember," I said, "the night those guys broke into our house?"
"Wait, when?"
"Back in college. Those guys came in with ski masks. Tried to rob us. That one guy was getting up in Constance's face-"
"Jamie!"
"Right," I said. "They called him Jamie."
"Fucking idiot, that guy. I couldn't believe what a tool he was. His cousin said he was okay."
"What are you talking about? You knew him?"
"No, I knew his cousin."
"You mean you were in on it?"
"I needed money, dude. I had a disease. I made amends to everybody that was there. Except you, I guess. Forgot about you. That you were there."
"I was the guy experiencing a bizarre floating sensation."
"What?"
"Nothing. Purdy knows?"
"He forgave me a long time ago."
"But you guys came in together."
"Well, he'd come in from outside. I was hiding the whole time. I'd told those guys where stuff was. So, I pretended to Purdy I'd just stumbled in there, too."
"They didn't find anything."
"No. I was pretty stupid. For some reason I thought Gunderson had a lot of cash in his room. Nobody was supposed to get fucked with. But that guy Jamie was disturbed. You know he died soon after that."
"Suicide by cop," I said.
"Sure," said Michael Florida, grinned.
"What?"
"That phrase. It's funnier than 'touched out.' Jamie was a fuckup and a pervert, but I don't think he wanted the cops to kill him. That was their hilarious idea."
"I see. Speaking of the police, how did you keep out of jail when they took Jamie away? Why didn't he rat you out?"
"We were friends."
"I thought you said you didn't know him."
"Did I?"
"Yes, you did."
"Well, I don't know what to say, Detective. I guess you better cuff me."
"Were you…"
"What?"
"Were you actually a student at the college?"
"Of course not."
"Oh."
"What, all these years you thought I was in college with you? Do you remember what I was like? How did you square that?"
"I never could."
"I mean, did you ever see me even reading a book?"
"All the time," I said. "You were always reading."
"I was, wasn't I?" said Michael Florida. "Now I remember. I mean, I remember reading. I can't remember a goddamn thing I read."
"Wish I could help. Anyway, I always remembered you tackling that guy Jamie. I thought it was brave. Now I know the truth."
"It was brave. Weird you don't see that."
Purdy emerged from a lacquered door at the edge of the atrium. He waved, walked over, kept his eyes on us while he spoke into something that resembled a long, shiny bullet.
"Then we won't do Susannah and the Elders," he said. "It's no skin off my back. It's not even a Bible story anyway… What's that?… It's in the Apocrypha… What?… Okay, you're a talented kid, so I'm still going to let you make some of these movies even though you don't know what the Apocrypha is. Your generation is pathetic… Huh?… It's got nothing to do with being religious. It's cultural knowledge. Which is the glue of a society. Which is precisely what has come unglued. Which is part of the reason we are all working for the Chinese to produce biblical content for cell phones. Okay, later."
Purdy twisted the upper segment of the bullet.
"Sorry, fellas."
"Nice phone," I said.
"Thanks, though I am not even sure it's a phone. I don't think they've decided. It's a prototype."
"But you can talk into it."
"Yes, that's true. So, what's up? Did you get a load of this joint?"
"Starting to."
"You try the archery yet? It's kind of random, I know, but one of the founders used to shoot competitively. It's like a Zen thing for her now."
"Cool. I'll have to go down and check it out."
"Melinda is back there having deep talks with badass midwives. This morning they finished up a fifty-seven-hour labor. Can you believe that? A breech vee-back with a flat cord, double-looped. I have no idea what that means, but I want to film one and put it on a cell phone. So people can watch it on their cell phones. Did you get a smoothie?"
"I'm fine," I said.
"You could probably use one."
"I'll manage."
"Manage what? Manage to die? Two Hind Kindnesses, please."
The bartender, a young woman with skuzzed hair and a mahogany disk distending her lower lip, nodded.
"So, thanks for waiting. I guess you had to deal with all of this stuff with Abner."
"Bernie," I said.
"Sorry, Bernie. Bold name, by the way. You just definitely want him to be an accountant?"
"We like the name. We named him after my grandfather."
"I'm all for it. There are definitely too many Elis and Olivers and Broncos around."
"Bronco?"
"We know a couple that went with Bronco."
"What are you guys thinking about for a name?" I said.
"Oh, I don't know. How about Don? That's a solid name."
Purdy pinched out a smile.
"I met with Don," I said.
"That's why we're here."
"In your email you mentioned something about further exploring the give."
"Due time."
"Okay, so."
"What did the kid say? Did he pass along a message?"
I told Purdy most everything, left out the soliloquy about cock cancer and the accordion bus. I didn't mention Sasha's offer of a fondle, either. I had never considered it genuine. I think she was just afraid of silence. I described the apartment, Don's legs, his humps, his girls.
"I almost want to cry," said Purdy. "Poor kid. I can't believe what we do to them. Fucking hell."
"Well, maybe someday we can finally-"
"Oh, screw that," said Purdy. "It will always be this way. We do war. That's what we do. We can't be babies about it. I'm a liberal hawk."
"Swoop!" Michael Florida giggled, but I took it for synaptic misfire. He turned back to the girl behind the bar.
"But it's just not right how we treat our guys," said Purdy. "My guy. What we need is a draft, that's all. Why does Don have to do all the fighting? Why not the sons of privilege?"
"I don't know, Purdy."
"What else did he say?"
"He's really angry. I guess that's my point. He's really angry with you. And with the world. I think it gets mixed up for him."