19

TUESDAY AFTERNOON Stony heard his name paged over the hospital PA system. He felt like Ben Casey as he trotted down the hall in his hospital whites to the phone at the nurses' station.

"Stony."

"Butler! What's happenin'? They catch those guys yet?"

"It's mine."

"What's yours?"

"The store. Frank wants out. He says he'll sign it over to me for free. He's movin' down to Florida."

"Whoa! Hold on."

"It's mine. Butler's Hosiery Palace."

"Wait up. What the fuck do you know about that shit? You don't know how to run a business."

"I'll learn, man, my own goddamn place."

"Hey, last week you were talkin' summer job, now you're talkin' life career."

"I can really make it though."

"Hey, c'mon, Bobby, be right! You wanna spend the next thirty years there in that little hole?"

"I'll expand."

"Expand what? Your uncle's dyin' in there; whatta you gonna do, sell panties until you're sixty? An' how many times you think what happened yesterday is gonna happen again? Some lady comes in to buy stockin's in the A.M., her kid holds you up in the P.M., right?"

"I'll take care a that."

"What with? You gonna sell girdles with a Saturday Night Special under the counter? What's witcha head, Butler?"

"I already ordered the sign."

"What sign?"

"Butler's Hosiery Palace."

"Fantastic. You awready ordered the fuckin' sign so that's it for the next thirty years, you ordered the sign."

"Stony ... I'm fuckin' scared."

"Don't do it, Bobby."

"I want it."

"How much juice you think you're gonna get outta your life runnin' a fuckin' hosiery store?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I want that fuckin' store."

Stony massaged his temples. "Lissen, Butler, my fuckin' head is splittin'. I feel like really bent outta shape about somethin'. I really don't know what to tell you now, you know? Maybe I'm not the greatest person to check this out with."

"I ain't checkin' it out, Stony, I'm tellin' you what's goin' down. You wanna come down to the store tomorrow, help me out?"

"I don't know, Butler. I really can't think straight."

"Hey, Stones, lemme explain somethin'. I really dig where you're comin' from, you know? I'm hip to what's been goin' down in your head with yer old man an' shit. See, like maybe you're too on top of everything right now to not take the store personal, you know? Like, the trick with a lifetime gig isn't to run away from home. The trick's finding somethin' you want so fuckin' bad you can taste it, family business or whatever. You with me? Now your idea of a heavy-duty trip might be somethin' entirely different from what I'm into. I mean, you might think it's just a little pissant store, but I see it as a stake, baby. It's mine. I don't take orders, I don't pick up a paycheck. I don't kiss ass. If a nice piece a tail comes in an' I wanna slip her a free pair a pantyhose I don't gotta worry about the boss findin' out. I'm the fuckin' boss. I sink or swim on my own power, man. And that's as legitimate and honorable a trip as gettin' off on kids, O.K.? I told you I'm shittin' bricks now, I mean, I really got the shakes, but it ain't because I'm goin' in there with my head up my ass. I'm scared because I'm so goddamn close to I-T, it, my dream. Now how many guys our age can say that? And another thing, I really fuckin' respect what you want, you know? And I would really, really dig gettin' some of that respect bounced back my way, O.K.?"