“But they’re too scared,” the soft boy said.

“So they hang around us,” the lanky boy said. “And they’re real pains in the asses, because they give us a hard time—say stupid things that they think are put-downs.”

The soft boy said, “Which category does your kid fall under?”

Decker said, “Probably the latter.”

The lanky boy took out a tissue and blew his nose. “I’ll bet he’s at one of the arcades now, trying to mix with the meaners. These places are pretty safe. Good ones like this have bouncers; they don’t like trouble.”

“Or,” the soft boy said, “there’re a bunch of all-night movie houses. If the kid could pass for seventeen, he could be sleeping in the balcony of the Cresta right now.”

Decker took out his sheet of paper and showed the kids the addresses. “Any of these places look like possibilities?”

The lanky boy studied the street numbers. “You used an old phone book, didn’t you?”

Decker didn’t answer. Instead, he opened his wallet and waved two five-dollar bills in front of their faces. He said, “Think you can get me some current addresses of safe late-night establishments the kid might go to?”

The boys looked at each other. They smiled, then each of them pulled out a wad of bills as thick as a sodden sponge. The soft boy said, “Could always use a few more bucks. You got the pencil and paper, I got the addresses.”

Decker took the bills from one of the boys, snapped them between his fingers—not just ones, they were tens and twenties. “Where does a kid like you get so much money?”

The lanky boy laughed. “Teaching meaners remedial math for Papa e Mama, so that sonny boya would finisha uppa de high school.”

“A truly lost cause,” the soft boy said.

“But I’ll tell you something,” the lanky boy said. “They can be taught. But you have to change your terminology.”

“Phrase everything in terms of getting laid,” the soft boy said. “If Tony got laid six times in a day and Ernie got laid fifty percent more times than Tony, how many times did Ernie get laid?”

“The answer?” The lanky boy held his crotch and said, “‘Six fuckin’ times a day? Dafuck is Tony’s secret?’”

The two boys cracked up.

“The addresses, boys?” Decker said.

“Sure,” the lanky kid said. “I love to help a man with a mission.”