your girlfriend’s name?”
“Rose.”
“Well, it would be a good idea to take Rose along when the two of you go out. This is a serious relationship?”
“I’d marry her in a minute. She’s the one with reservations.”
“Well, good for her. Marriage is supposed to be for life. But adoption really is.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s fine. I mean, I want to see her grow up and everything, while I get old, just like I’m supposed to. I want her to have some kind of life. She’s an amazing kid, Hank.”
“They’re all amazing,” Morrison says. “That’s the hard part.”
“So, then, what? I mean, what do I do?”
“Are her parents dead?”
“She doesn’t know. She’s been on the streets practically her whole life.”
“That makes it harder. Normally, to qualify for adoption you need to be able to demonstrate either that both parents are dead or that they’ve consented to the deal.”
Rafferty emits three frustrated little pops of breath. “Well, we can’t do that.”
“Probably not the end of the world.” Morrison puts a hand over the phone and calls out to someone, using a tone that has a lot of military starch in it. “Listen, don’t take this wrong, Poke. Arthit saysyou’re a good guy. But before I can do anything at all for you, I have to see you and her together. And I have to spend time with her alone. At least a couple of hours.”
“Do you really think you can do something for us?”
“It’s possible. But one thing at a time. Before we can do anything, I have to talk to both of you.”
Rafferty is up and pacing the room. He feels light enough to float. “Jesus, Hank. Thank you.”
“I’ll need some money. The paperwork isn’t cheap.”
“How much?”
“The low thousands.”
“Is that all?” Rafferty asks, and then realizes that his total net worth at the moment can be placed in the very low thousands, especially with the drain of Rose’s business. And Miaow’s school claims a chunk every month, too.
“That’s it. But don’t get your hopes up too fast. It’s a bumpy track. We’ll talk in a day or so.”
“Hank, one more thing. There’s another kid.”
“Poke, are you writing books or doing day care?”
“This is a boy, about ten. He took care of my little girl for a few years, starting when she was four or five, and now she’s trying to return the favor.”
“What’s his problem? Because there is one. I can hear it in your voice.”
“Amphetamines,” Rafferty says. “And violence.”
“What kind of violence?”
“Ganging up on pedos who like little boys, which I can live with, actually. Stealing. And biting.”
“Oh, good Lord, Poke,” Hank says, “we’re not talking about Superman, are we?”
“Um…” Rafferty says.
“Because if we are, forget him. He can’t be helped. I know that sounds cold, but I learned early on that you have to conserve your strength. There are a lot of kids to take care of, and you can’t burn yourself out on one. That boy is a black hole.”
“I don’t have a lot of kids to take care of,” Rafferty says stubbornly.
“And you don’t want him around your little girl either. He’s a terrible influence on everybody he gets close to.”
“Does that mean you wouldn’t take him? If he cleaned up his act, I mean?”
“I wouldn’t have him here under any circumstances.”
Some of the lightness goes out of Rafferty’s spirits. “Do you know anywhere else?”
“No. The toughest place in town wouldn’t take him. Listen, the would-be parents are due any minute. Is that everything?”
“When will the parents be gone?”
“Couple of days.”
“I’ll call then. And thanks, Hank. More than you know.”
“Oh, well,” Hank Morrison says. “I think I probably know.”
Rafferty puts the phone down, and the room is suddenly too small. He feels a need to be outdoors, but more than anything he needs someone to whom he can tell his news. He knows he should be concerned about Superman and Uncle
“Rose.”
“Well, it would be a good idea to take Rose along when the two of you go out. This is a serious relationship?”
“I’d marry her in a minute. She’s the one with reservations.”
“Well, good for her. Marriage is supposed to be for life. But adoption really is.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s fine. I mean, I want to see her grow up and everything, while I get old, just like I’m supposed to. I want her to have some kind of life. She’s an amazing kid, Hank.”
“They’re all amazing,” Morrison says. “That’s the hard part.”
“So, then, what? I mean, what do I do?”
“Are her parents dead?”
“She doesn’t know. She’s been on the streets practically her whole life.”
“That makes it harder. Normally, to qualify for adoption you need to be able to demonstrate either that both parents are dead or that they’ve consented to the deal.”
Rafferty emits three frustrated little pops of breath. “Well, we can’t do that.”
“Probably not the end of the world.” Morrison puts a hand over the phone and calls out to someone, using a tone that has a lot of military starch in it. “Listen, don’t take this wrong, Poke. Arthit saysyou’re a good guy. But before I can do anything at all for you, I have to see you and her together. And I have to spend time with her alone. At least a couple of hours.”
“Do you really think you can do something for us?”
“It’s possible. But one thing at a time. Before we can do anything, I have to talk to both of you.”
Rafferty is up and pacing the room. He feels light enough to float. “Jesus, Hank. Thank you.”
“I’ll need some money. The paperwork isn’t cheap.”
“How much?”
“The low thousands.”
“Is that all?” Rafferty asks, and then realizes that his total net worth at the moment can be placed in the very low thousands, especially with the drain of Rose’s business. And Miaow’s school claims a chunk every month, too.
“That’s it. But don’t get your hopes up too fast. It’s a bumpy track. We’ll talk in a day or so.”
“Hank, one more thing. There’s another kid.”
“Poke, are you writing books or doing day care?”
“This is a boy, about ten. He took care of my little girl for a few years, starting when she was four or five, and now she’s trying to return the favor.”
“What’s his problem? Because there is one. I can hear it in your voice.”
“Amphetamines,” Rafferty says. “And violence.”
“What kind of violence?”
“Ganging up on pedos who like little boys, which I can live with, actually. Stealing. And biting.”
“Oh, good Lord, Poke,” Hank says, “we’re not talking about Superman, are we?”
“Um…” Rafferty says.
“Because if we are, forget him. He can’t be helped. I know that sounds cold, but I learned early on that you have to conserve your strength. There are a lot of kids to take care of, and you can’t burn yourself out on one. That boy is a black hole.”
“I don’t have a lot of kids to take care of,” Rafferty says stubbornly.
“And you don’t want him around your little girl either. He’s a terrible influence on everybody he gets close to.”
“Does that mean you wouldn’t take him? If he cleaned up his act, I mean?”
“I wouldn’t have him here under any circumstances.”
Some of the lightness goes out of Rafferty’s spirits. “Do you know anywhere else?”
“No. The toughest place in town wouldn’t take him. Listen, the would-be parents are due any minute. Is that everything?”
“When will the parents be gone?”
“Couple of days.”
“I’ll call then. And thanks, Hank. More than you know.”
“Oh, well,” Hank Morrison says. “I think I probably know.”
Rafferty puts the phone down, and the room is suddenly too small. He feels a need to be outdoors, but more than anything he needs someone to whom he can tell his news. He knows he should be concerned about Superman and Uncle
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