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left—to
    use, and if it Was busy I could always hire someone to
    scratch my ass, right?
    Gallows humor; it's good for the soul.
    "Come on, Drake, hurry up before I change my
    mind."
    I had no intention of doing any such thing, but say
    ing it out loud helped channel my thoughts away from
    my arm.
    The four hundred dollars Drake had given me was
    gone. Blue J and I went out on the town Wednesday,
    getting a suite in the swanky Four Seasons hotel up
    town. We really lived it up too, compared to our usual
    standards anyway. Our room was huge, with separate
    areas for sitting and for sleeping. The sitting room
    came complete with leather couch, chairs, rolltop oak
    desk, and a complete home theater set up with stereo,
    surround-sound speakers and big-screen satellite televi
    sion. The bedroom had a four-post king-size canopy
    bed with shiny satin sheets and a balcony overlooking
    nearby Lake Erie.
    The best part was our bathroom, which had a four-
    person hot tub and enough free soaps, shampoos, and
    bubble baths to clean an army. Blue J and I ordered
    steak and wine, then later on, pizza, chicken wings, and
    beer, and spent almost the whole night partying in the
    tub. Unfortunately, four hundred bucks doesn't go very
    far in a high-class hotel, so first thing Thursday morn
    ing we were out on the street and back in our Dump-
    ster again. Oh, well, it was fun while it lasted.
    For some reason, I .couldn't tell Blue J what I was
    about to do. I said the money for the hotel binge had
    come from my wife's sister, Gloria, who had tracked
    me down and invited me to visit her and Arlene for a
    couple months. Blue J believed me, and we sat talking
    about how I might be able to get back on my feet, start
    a new life with my family again. I hated lying to my
    only friend, but I just didn't feel right about telling
    him the truth. Maybe I thought he'd laugh and call me
    a fool, or maybe I thought he'd want to come along. I
    don't know. My plan was to come back and get him once
    I had my money. He deserved better than this. Puck-
    man, on the other hand, I told nothing, not even good
    riddance. I wouldn't be coming back to his rescue.
    Fuck him.
    The sound of an approaching car caught my atten
    tion and I looked to my right to see the white limo
    headed my way. A maroon-colored van followed closely
    behind it and I was surprised to see both vehicles pull
    over and stop near me. The passenger door at the back
    of the limousine opened and I walked around the car
    ready to climb in. Drake stepped out of the car, holding
    his hand out to stop me. He looked bigger than I re-
    membered* meaner, and far more like the hired muscle
    he really was, wearing an all-black jogging suit with
    white running shoes.
    "Whoa there, Mike," he growled. "Where doyou think
    you're going?"
    I was confused. "I'm coming with you, aren't I?"
    "Not in the limo you're not. Why should you get
    special treatment? Get in the van. You can ride to Dr.
    Marshall's estate with the other guys."
    • Other guys?
    I looked back at the maroon van parked ten feet away,
    but the windows were tinted dark enough I couldn't
    make out anyone inside. I looked back at Drake.
    "What do you mean, ride with the other guys? Other
    people are selling their arms, too?"
    "When did I say you were the only one?"
    "I don't know? I guess I just pre—"
    "Look, Mike, I don't have time to explain all this.
    We're already late, so get in the van. Dr. Marshall will
    explain everything when we get there, okay?"
    Drake climbed back into the limo and slammed the
    door. I Was about to re-open it and ask another craes-
    tion, but I heard the door locks engage, putting an end
    to that idea. I was still confused, but I didn't have much
    choice except walk to the van and do what I was told.
    It was a fairly new Dodge Caravan, and the big slid
    ing rear passenger door opened just as I was reaching
    for the handle. I took One last look at the Carver Street
    Bridge and the hovel of a place I'd called home