Part 13 (2/2)

He grins, making an expansive gesture.

- Name your poison!

Karl sighs and chews at his thumbnail. His eyes are hooded. He won't look at the black man.

-All right, then how can I cheer you up?

- You could f.u.c.k off, says Karl.

- Take it easy, Karl.

- You could f.u.c.k off.

- What good would that do?

- I didn't know you were interested in doing good.

- Where did you get that idea? Don't you feel more a person now than you felt before you came with me through the door? More real?

- Maybe that's the trouble.

- You don't like reality?

- Yes, maybe that's it.

-Well, that isn't my problem.

-No.

- It's your problem.

-Yes.

- Oh, come on now! You're starting a new life and you can't manage even a tiny smile!

- I'm not your slave, says Karl. I don't have to do everything you say.

- Who said you had to? Me? The black man laughs deridingly. - Did I say that?

-I thought that was the deal.

- Deal? Now you're being obscure. I thought you wanted some fun.

Karl is fifteen. Quite a little man now.

- f.u.c.k off, he says. - Leave me alone.

- In my experience, the black man sits down beside him, that's what people always say when they think they're not getting enough attention. It's a challenge, in a way. 'Leave me alone.'

- Maybe you're right.

- Darling, I'm not often wrong. The black man once again puts his arm around Karl's shoulders. Karl is fifteen and in his own way pretty good looking. He's dating the sweetest little tomato in the school.

- Oh, Jesus!

Karl begins to weep.

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