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Evan would be there with bells on.
41
Blue-Collar Poet
Ring. Ring. Ri—
“Aunt Hilda’s Secondhand Bird Cages.”
“Tommy. It’s Joey.”
“Hiya, kid.”
“Do we have to worry about X?”
“No.”
“I think we have to.”
“Well, then. You’re, what, twelve years old now?”
“Tommy. I’m just sayin’. He seems off. I mean, after they caught him.”
“‘Off’? That a medical term or your girlish intuition?”
“Don’t be so male. It limits you.”
“Sorry.Womanlyintuition.”
“Clever.”
“How areyouright now? In your head?”
“All fucked up.”
“Okay, then. Get yourself squared first.”
“What if he’s not okay? He seems …different.”
“We’re all different. Every day. That’s the point.”
“But not X.”
“Everyone. Look. Evan’s between one place and another. Understand?”
…
“Kid? Still there?”
“Yeah. I was just thinking.”
“What?”
“Me, too, I guess. Between places. It feels like … feels like being nowhere.”
“The fall into the abyss.”
“That means he’s gonna hit bottom. In the middle of a mission!”
