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Sharonda had to leave her place. I’m just letting her stay here a few days. It’s not what it looks like.”
    â€œI couldn’t care less, Mitchy.”
    â€œI know, I’m just saying—”
    â€œYou should crack a window, let some air in.”
    Mitch got up quickly, went to the window beside the front door, undid the latch and fought with the pane until it opened. Cold air wafted in.
    â€œI can’t tell you how good it is to see you, bro,” Mitch said. “Let me get you a beer.” He started toward the kitchen.
    â€œLittle early for that. Maybe later.”
    Mitch sank back down in the chair. He leaned forward, forearms on his knees, scratched the wiry red hairs on one
arm. Johnny looked at him, sensing his discomfort. Seven years since they’d seen each other, and Mitch not knowing how to feel, how to react.
    â€œHow you been getting along?” Johnny said.
    Mitch shrugged.
    â€œYou know. Same old, same old. Couple bucks here, couple bucks there. Enough not to have to go to bed sober at night if I don’t want to.”
    â€œThat thing work out for you? What I told you about?”
    â€œWith Joey? No, man, he just … I don’t know. I guess I just wasn’t cut out for it. He said the words but he acted like he didn’t want anything to do with me. Had me selling phone cards on the street, believe that? Bogus phone cards like I was some sort of punk-ass scammer. I hung with him a couple months and then I said adiós. He wasn’t sorry to see me go.”
    â€œI’ll talk to him about it.”
    â€œNo, man, don’t bother. It just wasn’t working out.”
    â€œI wrote him from Glades when I went in, asked him to look after you, throw you something now and then.”
    â€œAnd he did, man, and now it’s over. I already forgot about it. Ain’t no thing.”
    â€œYou should have told me about it. Wrote me.”
    â€œLike I said, it didn’t matter much. All that matters now, man, is having you in the flesh right here. And you look good.”
    â€œI was in the same place a long time, Mitchy. You could have come to see me.”
    Mitch shook his head, looked at the floor.
    â€œI thought about it. A lot. But it’s just …”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThe idea of seeing you like that. In that place …”
    â€œIn a cage.”
    â€œI just couldn’t handle it. I don’t know if that makes any sense. But it’s true.”
    Johnny got Camels from his jacket pocket, lit one with the Zippo, sat back.

    â€œYou look like you could use that beer yourself,” he said. “Go ahead.”
    Mitch got up, went into the small kitchen, got a can of Budweiser from the refrigerator. Johnny could see a sink full of dishes. Mitch popped the can, came back into the living room, sipping foam.
    â€œI don’t know how long I’m going to be around,” Johnny said.
    Mitch sat back down.
    â€œWhere you going?”
    â€œI’ve got some business to take care of. And when it’s done I’m probably going to take off for a while. In the meantime, I’m putting something together, little by little. You could have a piece of it.”
    â€œI appreciate that, man, but really … you don’t need to. I mean, me and Sharonda …”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œWell, I’m doing all right. Not getting rich but I’m doing okay, you know? Like maybe for the first time in a while.”
    â€œFeels good, doesn’t it?”
    â€œYeah. It’s just that … I guess I was getting a little old for all that bullshit.” He grinned. “Now all I want to do is sit around and watch the flat-screen, you know? Scratch my nuts, drink some beer. Go out and get paid every once in a while. Ain’t bad.”
    â€œI guess not.”
    â€œSo you thought about it?” Mitch said. “What you want to do now?”
    â€œThought about it quite a