path of an oncoming tractor trailer. He swerved at the last minute, a frantic move that slammed both men sideways. The Gremlin’s front seat was so cramped, McCardle’s shoul der brushed Zank’s before he could scramble upright.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Tony screamed. “But Tony, I didn’t do anything.”
Watery blood bubbled from the bruise on Tony’ fore head, where his mother had ashtrayed him. A plum
size contusion oozed beside that, and a welt swelled under his nostrils, courtesy of Carmella’s comb-slash. Where Mac had accidentally shot the top of Tony’s ear off, a clamshell of dried blood gunked the side of his head, flanked by flesh-tone streaks where the hair had been scorched away.
“Tony, I—”
“NO!” thundered Zank. “What is wrong with you? Shut up! Stay
shut up!”
“But Tony, come on, man. I didn’t want to do it. She made me!” “She made you? She made you!”
The madder Tony got, the more weight he put on the gas pedal, until they were zooming down Liberty Boulevard, Upper Marilyn’s main drag, swishing by SUVs and pickups that seemed parked doing 35.
“You’re sick, you know that?” Tony shouted, pounding the dash board while McCardle cowered. “And I’ll tell you something else, if you ever mention what happened, if you so much as think of telling anybody you ... you... .” He couldn’t bring himself to continue and bit his lip. “If you do, I’ll kill you so fast you won’t know you were ever fucking alive. You hear me? I might kill you anyway, just to make sure. I’ll rip out your fucking kidneys with a fork.”
“You’re kidding, right? She had a gun on me. Your gun! You saw!” “I saw,” said Zank. “She had a gun. You had a boner. That’s what I
saw. You weren’t some kind of faggot, or half-faggot, or I don’t know what, you’d have taken the bullet.You’d have risked it. But you had my ass in your lap, and you were all pudgied up.”
McCardle began to sniffle. His lower lip quivered over his soul patch. “C’mon, Dog, it wasn’t you. I like fat ladies, okay? My auntie was a fat lady.”
Zank snorted. “So fucking what?” He rounded a corner with no signal and sent a mail truck screeching out of the way. “My aunt had a fucking moustache. That don’t mean I like broads who shave. You had your skink in me!”
McCardle whimpered. “Just an inch. ”
“No, man, you fucked me!” Tony cried, his voice beginning to crack. “You fucking fucked me!”
“Not technically,” McCardle protested. “As soon as you cut her I pulled out.”
“Bullshit! You stopped ’cause you thought I was gonna cut you. You were afraid I’d cut your plumpy off. I would’ve, too, you fucking man-ho! ”
The pair kept squabbling at the red light. The windows of the Gremlin were down, and a swarthy man in a Boy Scout uniform glared at them from the wheel of a minivan. Behind him a dozen Scouts pressed their faces against the glass.
“Damn perverts!” the scoutmaster yelled, waving his cap to get the Gremlin screamers to pipe down.
Zank saw who was yelling and screamed. “Boy Scouts! I fucking
HATE Boy Scouts! They should all die! ”
Tony clawed at his seat belt, trying to leap out of the car, but McCardle held him back. “Calm down,Tony, they’re kids.”
“Get off me, goddamn it! I’ll waste ’em all! The little fuckers! ” McCardle grabbed him by the shoulder, and Zank threw him off. “I told you not to touch me!” he roared. “Didn’t you hear me? I
know about you, man. I know about the Parakeet Lounge!”
Before McCardle could defend his honor, Tony was rolling again. He caught sight of Carmichael Street and swung a hard left. Mac dug his fingers into the seat, to keep from flying sideways and grazing his irate companion a second time.
“You even know why we went to that motel with that fat slit?” Zank asked. “You ever figure that out?”
McCardle was busy fighting back sobs and barely heard the ques tion. “I don’t know
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Tony screamed. “But Tony, I didn’t do anything.”
Watery blood bubbled from the bruise on Tony’ fore head, where his mother had ashtrayed him. A plum
size contusion oozed beside that, and a welt swelled under his nostrils, courtesy of Carmella’s comb-slash. Where Mac had accidentally shot the top of Tony’s ear off, a clamshell of dried blood gunked the side of his head, flanked by flesh-tone streaks where the hair had been scorched away.
“Tony, I—”
“NO!” thundered Zank. “What is wrong with you? Shut up! Stay
shut up!”
“But Tony, come on, man. I didn’t want to do it. She made me!” “She made you? She made you!”
The madder Tony got, the more weight he put on the gas pedal, until they were zooming down Liberty Boulevard, Upper Marilyn’s main drag, swishing by SUVs and pickups that seemed parked doing 35.
“You’re sick, you know that?” Tony shouted, pounding the dash board while McCardle cowered. “And I’ll tell you something else, if you ever mention what happened, if you so much as think of telling anybody you ... you... .” He couldn’t bring himself to continue and bit his lip. “If you do, I’ll kill you so fast you won’t know you were ever fucking alive. You hear me? I might kill you anyway, just to make sure. I’ll rip out your fucking kidneys with a fork.”
“You’re kidding, right? She had a gun on me. Your gun! You saw!” “I saw,” said Zank. “She had a gun. You had a boner. That’s what I
saw. You weren’t some kind of faggot, or half-faggot, or I don’t know what, you’d have taken the bullet.You’d have risked it. But you had my ass in your lap, and you were all pudgied up.”
McCardle began to sniffle. His lower lip quivered over his soul patch. “C’mon, Dog, it wasn’t you. I like fat ladies, okay? My auntie was a fat lady.”
Zank snorted. “So fucking what?” He rounded a corner with no signal and sent a mail truck screeching out of the way. “My aunt had a fucking moustache. That don’t mean I like broads who shave. You had your skink in me!”
McCardle whimpered. “Just an inch. ”
“No, man, you fucked me!” Tony cried, his voice beginning to crack. “You fucking fucked me!”
“Not technically,” McCardle protested. “As soon as you cut her I pulled out.”
“Bullshit! You stopped ’cause you thought I was gonna cut you. You were afraid I’d cut your plumpy off. I would’ve, too, you fucking man-ho! ”
The pair kept squabbling at the red light. The windows of the Gremlin were down, and a swarthy man in a Boy Scout uniform glared at them from the wheel of a minivan. Behind him a dozen Scouts pressed their faces against the glass.
“Damn perverts!” the scoutmaster yelled, waving his cap to get the Gremlin screamers to pipe down.
Zank saw who was yelling and screamed. “Boy Scouts! I fucking
HATE Boy Scouts! They should all die! ”
Tony clawed at his seat belt, trying to leap out of the car, but McCardle held him back. “Calm down,Tony, they’re kids.”
“Get off me, goddamn it! I’ll waste ’em all! The little fuckers! ” McCardle grabbed him by the shoulder, and Zank threw him off. “I told you not to touch me!” he roared. “Didn’t you hear me? I
know about you, man. I know about the Parakeet Lounge!”
Before McCardle could defend his honor, Tony was rolling again. He caught sight of Carmichael Street and swung a hard left. Mac dug his fingers into the seat, to keep from flying sideways and grazing his irate companion a second time.
“You even know why we went to that motel with that fat slit?” Zank asked. “You ever figure that out?”
McCardle was busy fighting back sobs and barely heard the ques tion. “I don’t know
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