After I sort the bottles and cans the trash cart is full, so I push it out to the main floor, where Huey has somehow managed to walk to the cooler. He’s reaching inside for another six-pack when he sees me. He closes the door and, leaning against it for support, opens a beer and lays the others on the nearest shelf. His eyes look like red spider webs, hands trembling as he raises the can to his lips.

I’m a little afraid of him right now. That’s how bombed he is. Like seemingly every other adult male I know in Blaine, he’s really pissing me off lately.

“Hey, Ramsey,” he slurs. “Come here with that cart.”

“Sure, Huey.” I make a U-turn and steer in his direction.

Keeping one hand on the door handle of the cooler, he sets his open beer on a shelf and pushes on the garbage in various spots like a customer inspecting fruit in a produce market. Then he digs deep into the cart, poking and prodding at different angles, using his forearms, elbows, and hands, examining the cart’s contents like a doctor giving a physical.

“I think kids steal from me sometimes. I have to check every now and then. Don’t take it personally.”

“It’s cool,” I say, thankful I’m not smuggling anything out in this load.

Satisfied, he pulls his arms out of the cart, lights a cigarette, and reaches for his beer, stumbling as he does so. He’s a pathetic sight. His sour breath forces me to take a step back. He drifts off into silence, staring at the tile now, swaying from the alcohol.

“What do you know, kid?” He looks as though he might pass out, but he manages to pull out a fifty and dangle it in front of me. “Anything new?”

Finally, I say to myself. I can finally get this off my chest. And if he’s too drunk to remember … well, that’s his problem.

“I confirmed what you already know,” I say, not bothering to take the fifty.

“You did, huh?” He offers me the money again. I shake my head. “And what is it you think I already know?”

“That she’s having an affair with Dale Foster. I saw some pictures.”

He must think I’m holding out for more cash, because he reaches in for another fifty, offering me a hundred dollars now. It’s all so disgusting to me. I’m totally jaded with adulthood as it is lived in Blaine. Screw these people, man. Screw them all.

“Keep your money, Huey. I’m not taking it.”

“Why? You’re doing great.”

“I’m done. You have what you wanted. Proof. Now, if you don’t mind, I have my own problems to deal with.”