Denny said: “It’s all right, huh, Hogg? Hogg …? I mean, it’s all right now, isn’t it?” He pushed himself away from my shoulder. His other hand was down at his dick—which was sloping away from his pants again—not full hard yet, but about half. Denny dug out his bloody testicles. “It don’t matter, now. Anything. Anything’s all right. That’s what you said. It’s all right. It don’t matter.” He moved his fist down the shaft, opening his fingers suddenly just before the pierced head. And then again. He was staring around at the floor.

“Come on, cocksucker,” Hogg said. He pulled me away from Denny into the circle of his arm. The wrinkled flank of his shirt was wet with sweat.

The wop stood up and said, “Where’s my fuckin’ switchblade?” He took a breath and wiped his forearm across his mouth. “Where’s my knife?” He turned around. “Huh?”

The sides of his jumpsuit were black and glistening.

Crotch and belly, up to his chest and down to his balls, were matted dark crimson. “I see it.” He walked over, bent down, and picked it up.

“Goddamn,” the nigger said, backing from the couch and shoving his cock back in. “She’s a fuckin’ mess! Goddamn, Hogg, you made her one fuckin’ mess.”

She said:

“Unnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn …nnnnnnnnnnnn … Ak-k-k … nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn … Hhhhh … Unnnnn … nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn … K-k-k-k … nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn … nnnnnnnn nnnnnnnnnnnnnn … Ch-ch-ch … nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn—nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn …” and on and on and on.

The wop looked at himself, took the head of his dick between thumb and forefinger and pinched down at the ring so that when he pulled his pinching fingers away, brass showed in the blood.

“Come on, come on,” Hogg said. “Let’s get out of here. Where’s the fuckin’ kid …? Let’s get out of here before he brings somebody around or something.”

The wop pressed his switchblade button, and the blade swung back up into the handle.

Denny still stood in the middle of the rug, swaying.

The wop and the nigger hadn’t noticed what he’d done.

They walked right past him.

“Shit,” the wop said. “This is gonna be a sticky night.”

“We done finished with work,” the nigger said. “Ain’t we, Hogg? We don’t got nothin’ more to do? I’m fuckin’ tired.” He rubbed the corner of his mouth with the scar.

“Get on outside into the truck,” Hogg said. “You too, Denny. Move your ass.” He gave Denny a shove and the boy started walking. He wasn’t limping quite as bad.

“Hey, what the—Oh, shit, nigger! Will you look at—”

“Goddamn! What the fuck did he …?”

That was the nigger and the wop noticing.

Denny was climbing up into the cab, and the street lamp had dropped its light through the window across his lap.

“It’s all right,” Denny said. “Everything’s all right. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, anything. Everything’s all—”