Cole closed his eyes and raised a hand. “No, no, Timothy. I mean yes, yes, you’re all right.”

“Who died then?” I asked with a nervous smile.

“Well, I … uh. …” his voice faded.

“Mr. Cole, what’s the matter?”

“Well, uh, Dean Mort asked that I speak to you.”

“Then speak, speak.”

“Speak,” he repeated, and that big, ripe Adam’s apple bobbed around out of control.

I started feeling very afraid.

“I told the Dean I’m not good at this,” he said. “I told him.”

There was another pause, and then Cole broke from the room, saying, “Call home, Timothy!”

I’m not usually a gory bastard but I think I owned the record for looking at Mousy at the wake. When my turn came to kneel in front of his open coffin, I couldn’t get back up. One by one at least twenty twitching mourners knelt beside me, prayed, and scurried away. It’s not that I’m a sucker for long goodbyes. For most of the trance I wasn’t even looking at Mousy; I just stared at the silky purple lining on the inside of the casket, confused by his family’s morbid ambition. They’d shaved off his beard and given him a crew cut.

“Your buddy looked pretty good with a pineapple,” the old man said after the wake. He was watching a Gilligan’s Island rerun. “Hardly recognized him.”

“That’s because you never saw him dead before.”

“Nah, it was the hair. He should’ve chopped that fucking mop off a long time ago.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I said.

He finally looked up. “What, you’re pissed at me because the poor asshole gets crocked and runs into a pole at five in the morning?”

“Three in the morning,” I yelled, “and what the fuck does it matter what time it was?! He didn’t deserve to die!”

“Come here,” he said.

I didn’t budge.

“I said come here.”

I moved next to his chair.

“You looking for a shot?”

I nodded no.

He gave me a shot across the side of the head. He had to reach up though and didn’t really connect.

“You looking for a shot?” he asked again.

“No,” I said.

“Say it then. You answer me when I talk to you.”

“No, I don’t want a shot, okay?”

“Don’t give me that shit, Dildo. I didn’t kill your friend.”