PART THREE k - Therapy

  He started chuckling. Light wanted to know what.

  "That's… all service guys. We're young, we exercise, we have appetites. Food? Is a big deal."

  "How, Wizzy."

  "Well. They feed you. A lot, I actually liked that part. But, you get to learn the schedule. There's a 31 day schedule. Some stuff? Avaible every day. Some stuff? Different days. Things come around once a week, once every two weeks, or once a month. After about 6 months? Its Friday, its the 12th day of the month. You know what to expect you can get. Also? You can only eat at certain times. You miss? You wait. Saturday and Sunday, you might not feel like going in 3 times. Me and the MP's, in our apartment building? The guys that could cook anything, were a commodity. Not to mention… you get out in the field? You eat out of a bag. There's, like, eight different bags, and you trade around for your favorites. Which you get sick of."

  "Oh. So, if one of the boys had a girlfriend in town, that could really cook…"

  "Oh yeah. More than one bck eye has been handed out? And not all of them were over who got go out with the girl with the big tits. Girl cooks a lot? Leftovers in the fridge? Stock quote goes up. Now. Service… do you get packed sandwiches and a lunch? Do you get brought a cold drink, a coffee, a beer when you sit down. Good service? Means almost as much as good food. Yeah, all makes the stock quote go up."

  "So, if you bring your buddy over. Big meal, everyone wants seconds. She brings you… drinks, maybe her hand made apple pie while you boys watch the game… she's a catch?"

  "Yeah. Works just like that. Except… you don't let anyone know her name, where she lives, her number, what car she drives… nothing. You lie about what town she lives in, that one. More than one guy learned, better to say you're going bowling, than your buddies learn about a good girl on the loose. Lots of healthy young boys on a big airbase. Only so many town girls to go around. Competition? Is fierce. The better girls? Get… picky. Simple supply and demand. Lots of dicks around with the same paychecks, all of us jogged every morning. Only so many girls. Quality dicks were on sale in big bins, and tits and ass were usually sold out. Do the math. Girls were in demand, and the quality girls? They didn't st long."

  "So. Hurry, would have had all the quality dick she wanted, living near an Airbase."

  I ughed out loud. He did too.

  "Lightning!"

  "Yes, Light. Hurry? Would have been considered quite a catch, near an Airbase. I'd of had to lock her up in a cage, to keep her to myself. That's assuming I managed to get to first base."

  "And her… cooking."

  "Oh yeah. Honest, I've been hearing her main thing is meat and potatoes. Roasts and casseroles. And… a specialty in soups and stews, did I hear right?"

  "I already know the menu, Wizzy. Soon as it gets cold enough out, the season ends… she starts. Soup. There's constantly a giant pot of soup going. A big one, you get sick of it. Then? Soon as its gone, she makes a different one. Same thing. Lots of casseroles and side dishes. You get a break, when she makes the big roast, or a big bird."

  "The big bird?"

  I smiled.

  "The girls are fascinated. That I can buy a turkey in the store. And I can read. Put the oven on this temperature. For this long. And when this thingy pops out? I turn the oven off. Mashed potatoes and gravy, and some vegetables warmed up? Its rocket science. You'd think I was part of some special program, at NASA, where I learned this on the moon or something."

  "Now, this soup thing… is… chicken soup on the program."

  I smiled.

  "We get chicken by the armload on the athlete's order we pick up at the store. More chicken soup than anything."

  "Now, there's chicken soup, and there's chicken soup."

  "The kind with chicken in it?"

  "Okay. Not… just a chicken neck, and some bouillon cubes, with one kind of noodles."

  "No, my grandmother would have strangled me if I tried that shit."

  "Oh. I can't wait for winter. Now… there's noodles, and there's noodles."

  "Hmm. After the season ends? I have all this energy and nothing to work it out on. I scrub the kitchen table, make noodles from scratch. Flour and egg, mainly. The noodles go in other stuff, too."

  "Okay, now when you say noodles… what about those big ones? The ones that look like… white meatballs got whacked with a hammer. Those, too?"

  "Oh. You mean… the dumplings. Yeah. Boiled or fried flour. Big mystery there."

  "Rice? Chicken and rice."

  "Rice on the side. If you leave it in too long? Turns into stew."

  "Stew is good too."

  "Yeah. Just like grandma made when you were little. As a matter of fact? If you find live roosters cheap or no one wants them… help me pull feathers off… I can do it that way, too."

  "Oh, holy shit. All right, I'm getting horny. What other soups."

  "Tomato soup. Grilled cheese sandwiches. They always get us these… big bricks of this weird cheese. We're all sick of it, I make grilled cheese sandwiches, a big old pile, to dunk in the tomato soup."

  "Oh, yes… more…"

  "Ham and bean. You boil ham. You boil beans. More secret NASA technology. The difference between good ham and bean, and great ham and bean? Real ham, and more of it. Different beans, every time you make it."

  "I'm getting a stiff-y."

  "I'm Italian. Wedding soup, is compulsory."

  "Oh my. You do the big roast?"

  "Yep. Ham, beef, whatever animal you cut an ass cheek off of. I do simmer stews, too. Think meat and vegetables and potatoes? In a crock pot? Just a big pot on the stove, simmering all day."

  "Cow. Pig. Deer?"

  "Sheep, too. No farm girl escapes a working farm, without knowing how to cook deer meat. The girls freak out, but. I do squirrels and rabbits and fish… if you can kill it? Farm girls are taught how to cook it. Our grandmas have us convinced until we're too old to know better. That if we can't cook that stuff? No boy will ever kiss us. Then we turn 12, and hear different."

  "Any… desserts?"

  "I'm a little thin on dessert. Apple pie? Okay. My blueberry usually gets good reviews. The one pie I do, that most pie girls don't? Pear pie. If the pears are right, the pie is right. My cherry? Eh. My bckberry pie? Right up there with my blueberry. Yes, scratch crusts. Remember. Big bag of flour in all kitchens. A few basic cookies, nothing to email home about. My scratch cake? Its okay. My scratch icing, is… not too bad."

  Lightning was all smiles.

  "We bitch until she makes cheesecake!"

  "Yes. More secret NASA technology. Instant pudding packet, goes in a store crust. Amazing. They don't know how I do it. Only thing I'll make with a store bought crust."

  "Anything I didn't ask you about?"

  "Oh. After chicken soup? There's left over chicken. I do creamed chicken."

  "Over… like… biscuits."

  "Of course. I'm no great bread baker. Basic bread. Few biscuits, things like that. Its all flour, basically. Big bag of flour. Noticing a trend, here. What else? Oh. The catchalls. Shepherd's pie. They call it meat pie. And casseroles? Anything left over. Meat, vegetables, cheese. I can usually get a casserole out of it."

  Lightning sighed, but smiled.

  "What, dear."

  "I was getting begged for my third date? Now you started in on all this… food talk. You're ruining my… stock quote. Look at him. He's eating out of your hand. What the hell."

  I smiled.

  "Light? On a farm. There's a bunch of other farms, all around you. Those farms? All have one thing in common. Most of them, have farm boys on them. Now, farm boys all have a few things in common. They can all work, from before the sun's up, till the sun goes down. They about all? Have mothers and grandmas, that can cook. They all have these big, healthy appetites. So… if you can cook? Your stock quote, goes up. Also, when a girl goes around some farm boy's house, for dinner? She gets the once over, from the mother and the grandmother. She has to be able to cook a little. Kinda like the girl version, of the daddy giving the boy over, the raspberries."

  "So. You learned to cook. To keep up with the… fast girls."

  "Yes, I learned to cook. No, I didn't learn it, so I could… get more farm boy dick. Though I won't lie. The girls that didn't carry hay bales like I did? Did use cooking for… bait. There's two kinds of farm girls. The ones like me, that are actually useful to have around the farm itself. Then? You got your… house mouses. You're lucky to get any real work out of them, beyond the chickens. They ride horses and switch to riding boys as soon as they can."

  "So… if it wasn't for getting farm dick---, I mean farm boys… why spend so much time in cooking school."

  "Well. On a farm. Spring, summer, fall… all have their own work built into the seasons. Rainy days, and then all winter. You spend a lot of time cooped up in the house. I suppose as much as parents love you, its nice to get a break. I would spend all weekend every winter, and a lot of breaks? Down at grandma's house. I don't know what you're used to growing up, but… grandma's house is a lot more fun, than mom and dad's house, when you're young. Grandparents spoil grandchildren. Grandma would tell stories, when I was young and down there. And I would help grandma cook."

  "Cooking school."

  "Yeah. Grandma and grandpa, lived on the original farm. The rest came ter, when they got it and added it on. Daddy, their kid? Lived in that house. When Daddy took over the whole main farm, which was bigger? Grandma and Grandpa sort of retired. Lots less work. Way more cooking. Lot more fun for me as a young girl down there. So, cooking lessons, yeah. Caused a little friction, with me and mom when I came back. But it was okay."

  "Friction?"

  "Oh. Mom. Grandma? She does this, you're doing that. Where's this? Why are you putting that in there. Why aren't you chopping the onions small enough. And daddy? Thought it was cute. Mom thought it was slightly less cute. But, all winter long, you take turns. All eating at grandma's, grandma and grandpa coming to your house to eat next. I was allowed to cook for big family dinners. As a young girl? You get major brownie points, for making a few things on the big table, that everyone likes. Mom and grandma, kind of snip at each other, and daddy and grandpa giggle at it. There's no real fights over it. Just… standard family, I guess."

  "Wow. All those people, at all those meals. Where the hell did you all sit?"

  "At… the table. We had other tables when all the family was over. Hold all the food, pce for the kids to all sit."

  "More people? You already got your mom, dad. Grandma, grandpa. More, too?"

  "Couple aunts and uncles. Their kids. Maybe a few cousins, and that. Next farm over might have a dinner party, we go there."

  "That's not a house, that's a restaurant…"

  I ughed.

  "Yeah, Mom said you just put the food on the table? And keep your hands away from the ptes."

  "Wow. You make this sound normal. Like… stuff on TV movies. You know. The stupid holiday movies."

  "I guess."

  "What does everybody… do? Just… come in. Eat. Then go? Like a big restaurant. Or, its like on TV."

  "Well, Light. The women, are cooking. Talking. The girls are more with the women. The boys? Are with the men. Its winter, so. They got their football games. Their car racing. Whatever the hell's in TV season for men and boys, I guess. Unless, its hunting season. Then, that's what the men and the boys do. They scout for animals. They hunt and hopefully shoot animals. Bring it home. Butcher the animals. Make fun of whoever didn't get an animal to kill. Or, who got the biggest, makes fun of who got the smallest."

  "Yeah. TV bullshit. You lived it, in real life."

  "Do… you have any happy memories, from when you were… younger? Has to be something."

  "Oh, sure. Saturday and Sunday? Cartoons. My shows. I was allowed to watch anything I wanted. Sunday funny papers. Got my comic books once a month, too. Coloring books, I loved those. I got the big boxes of crayons, too. Not the little ones. I got the giant packs of colored pencils, too. In, like, first second grade? Everyone was jealous of all that stuff. First grade? The size of your crayon box is a big deal."

  "What were your cooking lessons like? Surely you knew something."

  "Mom had a big cupboard. I swear, any box of cereal? It was in there. Always had two gallons of milk, ready to go. Chocote squirt stuff for the milk, strawberry one, too. Now, the powdered ones were almost as good. Ice cream. Popsicle's. Saturday and Sunday were the best. Cartoons. Cereal, strawberry milk. Ice cream and Popsicle's. Then, when cartoons ran out? Old movies. Bck and white ones. Lots of dancing and singing and stuff. Had all my comic books, and coloring books out. It was great."

  "What about real food? You can't live on cereal and ice cream."

  "Peanut butter and jelly. Dunk it in chocote milk. Hot dogs. I liked canned ravioli, but, the spaghetti was okay. If you got meatballs. Now. Mom had a whole cupboard of cereal? Next one, even bigger. Next two, actually. If it came in a can? We had it. Going to the store? Was fun. I could point at cans, and cereal boxes? Went right in the cart. Comic books, coloring books, right in."

  "This was all for Saturdays and Sundays?"

  "Yeah. Mom had the big microwave. But, she got me my own. Down low, just for me. Just turn the dial. We had every TV dinner known to mankind, too. Oh! And microwave popcorn! That was the best."

  "Light? Were you alone on weekends?"

  "Mom left early. Came home te. She said she was working. When I got older? I think she was out dating. But, that was her working, kinda. Working on trying to find me a new dad."

  "You just, watched TV all day?"

  "Well. A lot. But the other stuff too. Now, I wasn't allowed to answer the door. For anyone. At all. Mom said there were people out there, that would try to take kids away. Cops. Other people. Now, my friends were allowed over. They loved it. You could eat anything you wanted. I had stuff to do. I had friends."

  "Did you go anywhere?"

  "Other than dance lessons? School. Now, if one of my friend’s moms came over? They called first, and then I was allowed to go over and py at their house all day. That was fun too. And we were allowed outside then."

  "What did your mom cook when she came home? After school."

  "Oh, mom only stuff. Hamburgers. Cheese sandwiches. And tater tots. I loved tater tots. French fries, too. Then I got old enough I was allowed to make that stuff."

  "When did your mom get home. During the school week."

  "She put me on the bus. Every day. I wasn't allowed to miss school. I don't know when she left, but… she got home te. When I was old enough mom could trust me to cross the street? I got candy money. Then, I was allowed to walk to the roller rink. That? Might have been my favorite."

  "Retives? Grandparents."

  "No… they lived far away. Saw them a couple times. Not much."

  "Now. Let me get this straight. Your mom. As far back as you can remember. You go to school. Every day. But, you don't have to get good grades."

  "Mom said school was real important, but, grades didn't mean anything. There were other kinds of smart. But yeah. Real stickler. Every day? I was on that bus. I had to be, like, not able to stand up to not go to school. Then, I guess it was okay to stay home if I was that sick."

  "Yeah. Saturday, Sunday. Mom left early, came back te. Real te."

  "Yep."

  "All week long, you don't know when she left the house, but. She was never home till te, every night."

  "Yeah."

  "You're not allowed to answer the door. To anyone, no matter what. Not even the cops, because the cops might steal young girls, and you never see your mom again."

  "Yeah. Stranger danger. Teachers told us that, too. Not about the cops, but… you don't answer the door for anyone you don't know who they are, and what they're supposed to be there for."

  "You ate… the foods you listed. All day, every day. Whatever you wanted."

  "Sure."

  "How did you get to dancing?"

  "Some other mom would pick me up and drop me off. I get an envelope to give the mom. Gas money. You know."

  "And how old were you, when you were allowed to go to the store, go to the roller rink. By yourself."

  "Oh. By first grade. I liked the roller rink the best. All the kids. I was a dancer, so… I could dance on wheels, for hours. Couple bucks to get in, no more money needed. More fun than dancing, you didn't have to practice, just… go and do it."

  "Then you hit 12 or so, and… we all already know what went on, from that point out."

  "Yeah. But, being a kid was fun."

  I shot him a look, he looked around and… had trouble looking me back in the eye. I Bluetooth-ed him. Say something.

  "Little Lightning?"

  "Yeah, Wizzy."

  "You in an okay mood?"

  "Yeah. Other than… something happened. But, yeah. Why? Are you gonna… start pying cop again, and… make things worse."

  "Lightning? I'm not sure things can get worse. I just… I have to ask."

  "Well, go on. As soon as I get in a better mood, here comes the cops, gotta ruin it. I'm just kidding, Wizzy. Cause one of these days? And real soon, I hope. We're gonna run out of these new things to talk about, and… if you know what I mean? But go ahead."

  "What did your mom look like. You think… people thought she was attractive?"

  "Pretty sure. Wizzy? Do you think I'm pretty?"

  "Yeah. I do."

  "Well. Picture me. But short. Now, I know everyone thinks their mom is real pretty, but… other people always mentioned it too, so."

  "You mom would dress very… conservatively. Country club you called it."

  "Oh yeah. Me too, until… 12."

  "And, did your mom always dress conservatively, or… did she sometimes wear… you know… sexy clothes."

  "Well. She worked at the bar on weekends, so. Pretty girls make more money than ugly ones. And she worked evenings at the bar a lot, too. So, sexy clothes."

  "I'm curious. What jobs do you remember your mom having."

  "Well. There was the nail salon. And, the bar."

  "You ever been to the nail salon?"

  "Yeah. The dies there were always real nice to me. I liked them. One of them gave me rides to the dance lessons. Another one lived near and I pyed with her daughter."

  "You never saw the bar?"

  "No. Mom said bars were no pce for little kids. Ever. I mean, she was a horrible mom, but, she wasn't all bad. I had to go to school every day. That's something, right? I wasn't allowed to ever see the bar. She said it wasn't a nice pce. And little girls didn't belong in bars. I mean, that's something for her. I always had food to eat. I always had clothes. Not much, but… some kids starve, or don't have clean clothes. Until I hit a certain age? She wasn't the worst single mom in the world."

  "Uh huh. Do you know who owned the nail salon?"

  "Yeah. The rich guy. Rich guys own stuff. Own businesses. I'm an adult? Still like that. None of us own a business, right? Well, we're not rich. If one of us was rich? We'd probably all work for the one that was rich. Facts of life."

  "Just any rich guy?"

  "Well. The rich guy. You know the one. Richest guy in town."

  "Okay. I'm done… with the pop quiz."

  "Hey! Thanks Wizzy. You're getting better at this. You didn't make me cry once. Good job."

  "Can I ask one more teeny question? Maybe two in one."

  "Wiz? Just kidding, but… you some kind of weirdo, that only gets turned on when the girl cries?"

  I jumped in and covered it with a joke.

  "No, Light. He gets turned on, when I make him cry. If I thought he enjoyed making you cry? I'd… pinch his nipples, or something. His ass would have to sleep on the couch."

  "Go on Wiz. You get another crack, at making me cry. How about we make up rules, to twenty questions. If you can't make me cry in twenty questions or less? I win some kind of little prize. You make me cry inside of twenty, well… you win instead."

  "Did your mom rent the house?"

  "Yeah, Wiz. Single mom. A lot of my friends? Had to live in apartments. We had a house, with a yard and everything. No swimming pool, but… fence and everything. We weren't as bad off, as you might think. That way."

  "Do… you know who the ndlord was? I realize a little kid might not know."

  "Well. Its a little town. Wiz. You got one big rich guy. A couple families well off. The rest? Go down the line. So yeah. The big rich guy? The business owner. He rented houses out. Apartment buildings, too."

  "The same rich guy, that… him. Owned the nail salon, and rented the house out."

  "You're losing, Wizzy. I ain't cried yet. Either you're getting worse at this game? Or I'm getting better at it. Take your best shot, Wiz."

  "I'm pretty sure your mom slept with her boyfriends."

  "You sleep with Hurry?"

  "Yeah."

  "You pn on sleeping with me, after I get my third date out of you, right?"

  "If you'll have me? And you don't have to. I promise you, Light. I won't… do less, or be any less nice? If you don't want to. I swear by all that's holy. But… if you'll have me? Yeah."

  "Well. There's your answer then, Wizzy. Boyfriends, sleep with their girlfriends. Wiz, my turn. What did you grow up thinking your mom and dad did in the bedroom. I mean, they slept in the same bed, right? Door closed. What do you think was going on. Did you think… they were reading comic books in there? Pying checkers? What."

  "I really don't remember when the day came? That I finally realized. Oh my god. Mom and dad… do it."

  "Well. Yeah. There you go. I grew up watching movies. And… first you know that men and women kiss. Sometimes? They kiss a lot more, then fall on the bed. And some movies? Yeah, there's something else going on. Its under the covers, but… yeah Wiz. I knew mom and… the new boyfriend. Were doing whatever those people on TV were doing. We established, my mom wasn't exactly a nun or anything. This shouldn't be that big a shock to you bck and white people."

  "Bck and white?"

  "Yeah. You, Hurry? You guys grew up… bck and white. You know, the old movies. Everything was peachy. Everything? Was swell. All the kids in school, that had two real parents? Grew up in bck and white. I had a single mom. I wasn't the only kid at school? That had it that way. The saying went, we grew up in color. The new way. I bet, you growing up? No one swore in front of you, no one mentioned a sex joke, right?"

  "Well…"

  "I know. You grew up in bck and white. I grew up in color. People got drunk. Used swear words. Told sex jokes. Real life. Do I wish I grew up in… Hurryville, on a farm? Sounds… really swell. But I didn't."

  "Is it rude to ask, I don't know… how often mom got a new boyfriend? How many there were."

  Lightning chuckled. Stirring her chili she was so proud of. It was simmering, but she was hovering over it the way a gourmet chef on TV would be monitoring carefully, the critical dish.

  "There was always a new boyfriend, Wiz. There was more than one boyfriend at once. Sometimes you saw an older one pop back in. Always a new one. Mom tried to keep that from me. She was a little bit good, in some of those little small ways. No new boyfriend was so much as allowed to speak to me, talk to me, nothing. Now. A good, steady boyfriend? Yeah. They were nice to me. Mom allowed them to… talk to me, pick me up or drop me off. Those were the ones I'd say… what, tried to py daddy a little? It was nice while it sted. Mom got married a couple times when I was real young, but… arguments. Like you wouldn't believe."

  I asked what the arguments were about.

  "What do you think. When I was old enough to catch the drift of it? Mom had too many boyfriends. I remember thinking I was the problem. Cause the one time, the guy kept saying… I'm not a goddamn babysitter. He said that a lot. Then he was gone. Your next question, no doubt. Will be… did any of the boyfriends, or steady boyfriends… and the answer is no. Not a once. Hurry is my therapist? I would have to tell her the truth. But… life was in color, guys. Bck and white? That was TV on the weekends. The old movies. Husbands and wives? In bck and white, they would have a gss of champagne, and dance the tango. In color? Well."

  "So, you couldn't guess a number. How many guys, how often a new one popped in, or an old one popped in for a… little while."

  "Wiz? Maybe I'm stupid, because I don't have a degree in mathematics or whatever. But, let me ask you. You… shot guns at the range. With your MP buddies?"

  "Yeah."

  "Go a lot?"

  "All the time. Its free. We had free guns, we had all the free ammo we wanted… why not."

  "Hmm. Now. Exactly how many times did you fire any of those guns, huh? How many times a week, how many guns got fired any one trip… did you ever go back to that one gun? And exactly how many shots got fired. Come on, maybe because half your degree is in mathematics, you know."

  "Well…"

  "There you go, Wizzy. Like that. All I can tell you? There were two different kinds of boyfriends. I guess, after a certain number of boinks or whatever? Or the guy finally licked her just right? The hell do I know what caused it. But… regur boyfriend. They come home from the bar, few drinks, ughing. Hi honey, school go okay? Yeah mom. That's good. I'm going to bed… now, the guy might say something. Hi cutie. Aren't you precious? What's your name. Now, I'd jump up. Hi. I'm eight. My name? Is Sky. I'm a dancer. What's your name? Very pleased to meet you. You know, like your teacher teaches you manners. I guess that much, was bck and white. But? Then the color kicks in."

  "Mom would shit a tornado. She had this mean streak. You! That? Is my daughter! You do not speak to her! You? Do not so much as look at her! I ever catch you looking, or talking, even remotely in her direction? I will wrap this goddamn six pack around your head, you got that? Guy would be all scared. Hey, calm down. Just being friendly. Jesus Christ. Mom would say, I warned you. Don't be friendly. Go."

  "Then? What anyone does in the bedroom. Listen to music, loud TV. Maybe? Take a shower. I asked girls at school. Your mom listen to TV or loud music in her bedroom, with a boyfriend? Sure. All moms did that. Sometimes moms and boyfriends shower. Hell, moms and real dads do all these things. Even the famous Hurry and Wizzy. Music, shower room. Kinda normal."

  "Now. Don't know how she picked a steady boyfriend, but… totally different mom. Mr. Wiggly? This… is Sky. My daughter. Isn't she wonderful? And, the guy was allowed to watch cartoons with me, eat ice cream. A steady boyfriend? Mom treated him actually… nice. No, none of them. No one… looked under my PJ's… tried to help me go to the bathroom… nothing like that. Now… gifts. Steady boyfriends? Would buy me gifts. Nice ones. For birthday, Christmas. Or just because. New bike, new… could be anything. Now, if one of them would have stuck around long enough? Stayed? Life could of been bck and white, I guess."

  "Now. Even the regur boyfriends, that weren't allowed to look or talk to me, or mom would snap. They'd be going out sometimes, morning. Hey kid. Here. I seen you at the roller skating rink. Other kids had candy and shit. Here, here's 20 bucks. That's for you, you get some stuff. Our secret. Don't get me in trouble, don't ever say where you got it. Now… I never had to do anything for it. They wouldn't let me even hug them, not a damn thing. But I'm not fucking retarded. I stuck the 20 in my pocket? And I got stuff at the roller rink. And if mom found a 20 on me? I'm not stupid. The steady boyfriend gave it to me. Oh. Fine."

  "Now. As a kid, you don't really know shit. Do you think I never looked back on this, older, and questioned it all? Sure. I had four years, to sit alone with Teddy and ask him. Best I ever came up with, and that was after I got here to college? Here we go. My mom? Was the biggest goddamn slut, ever to hit our town. There's no other way to try to color that picture in. But? I finally was old enough to know, and I looked at all the other girls here. And you know what? Mom, was just ahead of the curve. Mom liked dick, the more the better. But, mom knew what a show boyfriend was."

  "Hmm. You wonder why I don't hate boys. Now, other than the really fucked up flying monkey shit that happened when I was, oh… 14? Nothing really wrong, with any of mom's boyfriends. They were… seemed okay. Never saw one hit my mom. They all tried to be nice to me, even if they had to sneak to do it. And the ones that were allowed to be nice, her show boyfriends? They were really great. It was mom, it wasn't them. So? I didn't hate boys. Boys, are basically nice. Most of them. If you let them be nice."

  "So… Wiz?"

  "Yeah, Light."

  "I know you thought I was a really bad girl. I'd pick a boy, then go to his room, and rock his world. Just like I assume mom was doing. With the loud music, the loud TV, in the shower room. When it ended? It ended. My fault. I can't accept presents. I can't go out on car dates. I can't expin why to them. A night, a weekend, three weeks. About once a month or so, I go and do it again. I try. I know you think that makes me a really bad girl, you and Hurry both. But… in my world? I'm a fucking nun. And my mom practically invented getting dick-ed every night, by anyone and everyone… and having a steady show boyfriend she ran around on, with everyone in town, until they couldn't take it and left. And? I refuse to do that. Again? I know I'm a horrible slut, and I'm this totally bad girl, and… maybe in your bck and white world? I guess maybe I am. But, in my color world I grew up in? I'm the fucking sweet little Dorothy, almost a nun."

  We were speechless.

  "Twenty questions over, Wiz?"

  "Um… yeah, Light."

  "Hey. I win. I must be getting better."

  I couldn't help it.

  "Light? I think you really are starting to get better. And yeah, soon there will be no more… twenty questions. And, we just go over what we already know, until its routine. Then… we move on from there. But, you seem better."

  "Great."

  "Light? Is there any chance, me and Wiz could… have one of those cop therapist gab sessions, about treatment?"

  "You could. Can I make a suggestion?"

  "Sure, Light. What."

  "You guys need to talk? You two leave the room. I know I'm not head of household, I know I'm second banana to the main girlfriend, but… I'm really enjoying my chili cooking? Good girls make food, they can cook some. I'm actually cooking. I'm beating the ever loving shit out of Right? At the cooking game. I'm afraid to quit stirring it. It makes me feel good to stir it. I'd like to keep doing it. So…"

  We went to walk outside for a second. He stopped and asked if he could put his hand on her shoulders, was that okay. She said it was fine. He sniffed over her shoulder.

  "That… smells, and looks… very bck and white. Just swell, honey. And, just for the record. You're not, the second banana. Your banana, is the same size as hers. Okay? Its not like Hurry is the wife, and you're the toy. You guys are best friends. This… you're not a second css citizen. You don't have to do anything. And, if you still want to? I'm honored you pick me. If you want me to… I don't know, beg a little more like I did? You liked that? We can arrange a little more begging. I want things to be a little more… bck and white for you."

  "Does Hurry get… begging? Is it a fun game she enjoys?"

  I shrugged.

  "Yeah. Its fun."

  "Okay. Go have a talk behind my back. How to fix me more. I know there's something fucked up. Always is. Its fine. I have chili to stir."

  He smoothed her hair and kissed the back of her head. We walked out slowly, and took a tiny walk and stood. No one around, we'd talk quietly. We could see if our privacy was getting disturbed a long ways off. Was this how MP's went and talked, so as not to spook the witness during an interview? Probably, but I'm guessing. He sighed.