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“Six days.”
“I left a day after you. I was in the corn for five days?”
“You didn’t turn left, did you?”
“I thought I had to turn right to get home.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“No shit.”
I sleep some more. My arm and hand are bandaged. The leg hurts more. I must have dug in deep. Remind me not to do surgery when I’m high on neurotoxins.
I can hear people in the store. Then it’s quiet. Later, I can hear people again. That’s how I count the days. People in. People out.
Kasabian comes up one afternoon with a bag.
“Apple fritters from Donut Universe.”
I take one.
“Thanks.”
Take a bite and limp to the bathroom, where I throw it up again.
Kasabian helps me back into bed.
“Don’t tell Candy,” he says on the way out.
Later, Candy and I are in bed.
“I thought I’d lost you again,” she says.
“I told you I’d come back.”
“And you didn’t bring me a thing. Not a T-shirt. Not a bumper sticker.”
“I gave the Colt to Bill. I hope that’s all right.”
“It’s okay. We’ll find you something else. Maybe one of those pink Charter Arms revolvers.”
I sit up and Candy puts another pillow behind my back.
“Did I tell you what happened to Hesediel?”
“Yeah. You seemed pretty broken up about it.”
“I need to find Samael and have a word.”
“When you’re better.”
“If I died, the fucker would be here in a flash.”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
I put my arm around her. It feels good to have it sort of working again.
“Sorry. I’m not going anywhere.”
