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hugged me tighter and tighter until I seemed to be part of her.
    She was out of this world, that little girl. Not one of these goddamned tramps like I was always latching onto. You could really go places with a kid like that. You'd do anything in the world for her because you knew she'd do anything in the world for you, and you could just naturally go to town.
    I wondered what she'd think when I didn't come back. I wondered what would happen to her. I closed my eyes, and I could almost see it happening: the guys coming there to the door and the old woman propositioning them, and Mona. – . Mona there in the bedroom…
    I opened my eyes fast. I forced my mind away from her, and started thinking about that house.
    I'd had a feeling about it from the moment I set foot inside the door; that it wasn't as it should be, you know. I couldn't figure out what it was at the time, and I'd had plenty of other things to think about afterwards.
    But now it finally came to me. There weren't any pictures in the place; pictures of people, I mean.
    I guess I've probably been in ten thousand of those old houses, places occupied by old people. And everyone of 'em's got a flock of pictures on the walls. Guys with beards and gates-ajar collars. Women in high-necked dresses with leg-of-mutton sleeves. Boys in Buster Brown suits, and girls in middies and bloomers. Grandpa Jones, Uncle Bill and Aunt Hattie. Cousin Susie's kids.. All those old houses are like that. They've all got those pictures. But this one didn't have a damned one.
    I kept turning it over in my mind, and finally I thought, So what? What's it to you, anyway? I got kind of sore at myself, you know, thinking about a thing like that in the spot I was in. So I forgot about it, went back to worrying about myself, and it was days before I thought of it again. And by that time- I don't know. You'll have to decide for yourself. Maybe any time would have been too late.
    Maybe it would have turned out the same way, anyway… I went to jail on Wednesday morning. I was scheduled for arraignment Friday afternoon. The turnkey came around at two that day, and took me to the showers. I bathed and shaved while he stood and watched, and then he gave me my clothes.
    I got dressed. He led me up a long corridor, through a lot of gates, to the receiving room. He gave my name to the cop behind the desk. The cop opened a drawer, thumbed through a bunch of envelopes and tossed one on the counter.
    "Open it up," he said. "Anything's missing, you say so now."
    I opened it up. My wallet was in it and my car keys and a check to the police parking lot.
    "Okay?" he said. "Well, put your John Hancock on this."
    I signed a receipt. I thought this was a screwy way to do things, put a guy through all this just to go before a judge. But like I say, I'd never been in jail, and I figured they ought to know what they were doing.
    I put the stuff in my pocket. The door to the street was open, and I thought, man oh man, what wouldn't I give to be out there.
    The turnkey had gone back behind the counter. He was over at the water cooler, rinsing his mouth out and spitting into a big brass gaboon. He seemed to have forgotten all about me. I stood and waited.
    Finally, the desk cop looked up at me. "You like this place, Mac?"
    "I guess I got to like it," I said.
    "Beat it," he said. "What the hell you waiting on? You got all your junk, ain't you?"
    "Yes, sir," I said. "Think you kindly, sir!" And I went out of that damned place so fast, I bet I didn't even cast a shadow.
    I was sure it was a mistake, see? They had me mixed up with some other guy. I didn't see how it could be any other way.
    I got my car off the parking lot. I came off of it like a bat out of hell, and I must have gone four or five blocks before I came to my senses and slowed down.
    This wasn't going to get it. How far did I think I'd go with a finance-company car and a little over two bucks? Maybe the cops had pulled a boner, and maybe Staples had decided to