Stony got up at nine like he promised. At eight fifty-five Albert was standing in the doorway like a servant with a cup of coffee.

At nine-thirty they were standing in the foyer. Stony was checking his dough. They heard Marie getting up. Stony stared at his parents' door, feeling an angry tightness in his gut. When he looked for Albert, Albert was gone.

While they were waiting for the train, Albert unselfconsciously slipped his hand into his brother's. Normally Stony would consider this a stone faggot action, but Albert was his little brother. Besides, he liked the feel of Albert's hand—it was always warm and dry. He also liked to smell Albert's head for some crazy reason. Whenever they were wrestling or fucking around he would always try to stick his nose as close to Albert's head as possible, even if it meant getting Albert's hair up his nostrils—Albert's head always smelled like baby powder. Stony guessed he loved his brother, stone faggot action or no.

The subway exit let out in the middle of a dozen sleazy movie theaters. Albert was bug-eyed with excitement. He had never been in Times Square without his parents. Stony was blown out by all the lowlife. Dudes in dresses, young dirty stud hustlers jiggling their balls in their pockets and staring down old guys in front of movies, tall skinny black guys in imitation pimp lime greens and emergency yellows, alkies, junkies, lonelies. It was ten o'clock on a Saturday morning and the place was jumping.

"Holy shit!" Stony stood there gawking. He hadn't been down here in years.

Albert laughed and clapped his hands. "Look at the movies!"

"Who needs movies? I never saw so many fuckin' creeps in my life." Stony stared in fascination at the thirteen-year-old Puerto Rican kid standing in front of an Orange Julius. He had long greasy black hair tied flat with a red bandanna. He had a dark slit-featured face and was dressed in dungarees and a dungaree jacket. Suddenly Stony realized that the dude was staring back at him. Stony made a vague "not-me" motion with his head and grabbed for Albert's hand. The kid snickered. Flustered, Stony quickly disengaged Albert's hand. "He's my fuckin' brother!" Stony grabbed Albert's hand again and beat it around the corner.

They got to the movie an hour before the box office opened. Albert wanted to stand in line but Stony pulled him away. "C'mon, I'll take you to the automat."

Inside, Stony gave Albert a fistful of silver and told him to get anything he wanted. Fifteen minutes later Albert came back carrying a tray with orange soda, a corn muffin and a hot dog resting in an oval bed of baked beans. Stony had coffee and a prune Danish. "You ever come here before?" he asked.

"Once with Mommy when I was six. I threw up." He drank the orange soda.

"What were you doing here with Mommy?"

"She was gonna be a secretary and had to see a man and she didn't have a baby sitter."