Dave stood in search of an ashtray. “Then what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to move out west to a nice, small town and become a human being again.”

He frowned.

“Hey,” I said, “is it so wrong to want to live in a place where your kids can play safely in their own backyard?”

“Oh, I get it. You’re going to move to Maple Syrup, USA, marry a virginal beauty queen, raise six or seven towheads, and have the little lady bake her apple walnut crunchies for the church bazaar?”

“No, no, no, that’s not it at all. Jesus, I don’t even like virgins.”

“Don’t blame you,” he said.

I had to smile, coming from a teacher and all.

Dave took a long drag on his butt and snapped out two perfect smoke rings that hovered above us like fading halos.

“Dunph, can I get heavy for a minute?”

“Go ahead.”

He leaned forward and scratched his brow, carefully measuring his words. “How’s your life been so far?”

“Not bad,” I said, rolling my hand back and forth, “hot and cold. I mean, compared to whose?”

“If you could relive it, what changes would you make? What would you do differently?”

“First of all, I wouldn’t live it over again even if I could. Not that it’s been that horrible. I just don’t think I could bear to listen to all the same songs, watch the same tube, see the same shit. But if I had to, I don’t know … I guess I’d live it pretty much the same.” I thought about Jane. “Maybe make one or two changes.”

“What about your grades? Would you work harder in school?”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I already told you, I don’t plan on going to college.”

Dave seemed satisfied. Maybe he was just stumped. For a few minutes the conversation changed. We made fun of Fundy. After opening two more beers, he asked what I thought of C.A. in general.

“In general,” I said, “I think the place stinks.”

“Don’t beat around the bush.”

“It sucks, blows, bites.”

“There you go.”

“Cornwall Academy and I are miles apart,” I said. “Face it, Dave, there’s something fucked-up when a psycho like Jonathan Wheeler practically runs the place and Irving Waltham gets bounced. The system’s burnt.”

“Ever consider that your small town plans might be sort of a cop-out?”