““Aw, you don’t have to,” I said, when Cricket handed me the money. “I’d have been here anyway.” I tried to give the money back. Cricket waved me off. “Fuggedaboutit. You work, you earn cash. That’s life.” I pocketed it. It was mostly ones, and they felt heavy and good in my pocket. I raised a hand to Cricket and went back to find Kirstie. I was tired, I realized. Not sleepy but tired like I used to get after a football game. Kirstie put me to more work, closing up her joint. While I pulled down the awnings, she finished counting her money and wrote the final figure on a slip for her money bag with a satisfied smile. I checked the beeper in my pocket. Still silent. But, of course, if Walker had my mother up against a wall, she wouldn’t be able to call. “I can’t stay long,” I told Kirstie. “It’s late. I should get home.” “Early bedtime?” “No.” “No,” she agreed. “You’re afraid something will happen if you aren’t there.” Not a question. She tossed the money bag to a guy who came around co...llecting them, then came outside the joint to help me close up.MoreLessShow More Show Less
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