"A hospital! Ugh! That's the pits! What'll they pay ya? A hundred?"

"I dunno, what's the difference!" Stony glared.

"The difference is, you come with me you be makin' more bread in two weeks than you'll make candy stripin' for two months."

"I ain't candy stripin'. I'll be a goddamn recreational assistant."

"What makes you think you can handle hospital work? I seen you go green at a nosebleed." Tommy lit another cigarette.

"I ain't doin' brain surgery, I'm just playin' with the kids."

"Ah, grow up, Stony. That's woman's work."

"Oh yeah, right, sorry, you're right. I should be runnin' aroun' in my T-shirt with a screwdriver and a red hat on. Yeah, then I'd be a real man. Right, sure!"

"Hey look!" Tommy pointed a finger an inch from Stony's nose. "I can still kick your ass all over this fuckin' room!"

Stony's face was composed. "I don't suggest you try it." His legs were trembling, but he wouldn't crack.

Tommy stood motionless, red-faced, his finger like a gun in Stony's face. Stony tried not to even blink. Tommy flung his cigarette toward the open window and stalked out of the room. The cigarette hit the window in a splash of embers and lay smoking on the windowsill. Stony flicked the cigarette out the window. "Candy-ass," he muttered, not too loud, and collapsed in his seat. He sat there, not moving, until Tommy came back into the room.

"Hey lissen." He tentatively laid a hand on Stony's shoulder. "I'm sorry. You do what you want this summer. You wanna be a candy striper or whatever, it's on you. It's none a my business." No reaction from Stony. "But if you want my opinion, you're a jerk if you don't go into the union."

Stony sighed, shaking his head sadly.

"O.K., look." Tommy sat on the desk. "I'll make a deal with you. You wanna do hospital work? Fine! Do two weeks hospital, then do two weeks with me, you know, like a test." Stony started to protest, but Tommy cut him short with a raised hand. "You do those two weeks with me, after that you can clean sewers for all I care." Stony walked around the room, his hands in his pockets.

"Stony, God as my witness." Tommy stood, one hand on his heart, one hand raised palm toward Stony like a saint. "God as my witness, Stones, gimme those two weeks and I won't say another word about nothin' until I'm dead. I swear."

"Awright, awright." Stony threw in the towel.

Tommy put an arm around Stony's ribs. "Stony, I'm your father. I don't want nothin' but the best for you." On every other word he squeezed Stony's side like an accordion. Stony felt relieved that Tommy had backed down from kicking his ass. "Do the hospital first so you can compare, but just do yourself a favor and lissen to yer old man."

Stony nodded. Fair enough.

"Oh, an lissen"—Tommy threw over his shoulder on his way out—"forget the Mister Dynamite number. Demolition's good bucks but someday you'll wind up wit' your ass blown halfway to China."