Leo tried to see if anyone else was in the cab, though it didn’t look like it from here. Floyd’s hair had grown out to about an inch long and stuck out all over his head like he’d put his wet finger in an open fuse box and didn’t give a damn. His nose was still wider than normal, but his gray eyes looked less like slits than before. He walked up the drive. “You alone?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Floyd stepped inside the house. Leo placed a shingle cap on the ridge and nailed it down on both sides. He could hear Floyd’s boots walking loud over the plywood floor below. The last time Leo had seen him, Floyd was swinging a bat at him while Dwight and Olin went to work putting Chick in a coma, and no doubt Floyd was the one who broke Chick’s arm and leg later; but still, Leo didn’t feel mad. All he felt was feverish and a little shaky, two things he was feeling before Floyd showed up.

“This job went to hell without me, I guess.” Floyd was back in the driveway, smiling up at him. He lit up an L&M.

“Where’d you get the truck?”

“My brother’s. You like?”

Leo shrugged and nailed off another cap.

“Your line’s off.”

“How come you’re not on the run like your two buddies, Floyd?”

“Never run if you can walk, I say.”

“Walk where?”

“It don’t matter where. What happens happens, man.”

Leo had two more caps to go. He laid them down and nailed them, then he twisted around for the leftover bundle draped over the ridge and dropped it off the side to the ground.

“You can catch a ride with me if you want. The air conditioning’s free.”

Floyd handed Leo a cool can of beer as soon as Leo pulled the door shut. The top of the windshield was tinted and Leo felt like he was sitting behind a big pair of shades. Cold air blew over his pants to his bare stomach and chest. He put on his shirt but left it unbuttoned, then popped open the beer and drank off half of it.

“You should play ball.” Floyd took the turn down the hill for the river. Leo asked him what he meant.

“Your swing, man. If Dewey was a stitch ball, he’da scored you a fuckin’ homer.”

“He all right?”

“Nah, those busted ribs are gonna kill him dead.” Floyd laughed and drove faster.

The skin of Leo’s back felt pinched and he had to sit forward and put his hand on the dash. “I got too much sun.”

“Drink a six in a cold bath. Free advice from Pretty Boy Floyd.”

Leo finished off his beer. He remembered taking that bath with Allie after making love all afternoon. He dropped the empty can down on his sneakers. “You almost killed him, man.”

Floyd stopped the truck at the bottom of the hill. He rolled the window down and blew smoke outside. “Eye for an eye, man. Teeth for teeth.”