“A mistake? Everything I do is a mistake. Tell me, what the hell’s not a mistake?”

“No wonder you worried about Mousy going to hell,” I said. “You’re just like everyone else in Pawtucket, you don’t give a damn. When we talked about going to Arizona, it was because Mousy thought we could have a fresh start there, away from Pawtucket. Only you wouldn’t be starting fresh, you’d be taking the city with you! Don’t you see? Your change wouldn’t be mental, just environmental.” I sat beside him on the bed. “Listen, you’re eighteen years old, and you made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. But not everyone admits them.”

“You know what I did, Dunph?”

“What?”

“I got Bunny pregnant. And she’s having it.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“That’s what you figured. That’s what everyone figures. Great, so what do I do? I ain’t even sure it’s mine. I only banged her a few times.”

“Whose else would it be?”

DeCenz thought about this.

“All right, so what am I gonna do?”

“Just do the right thing. You didn’t murder nobody, you just got a girl pregnant. And she needs you now, so help her out. Bunny’s a lot sharper than you think.”

“So what do you mean? I should marry her?”

“Christ, no. Not if you don’t want to. But I know one thing, you should own up to it and give her support. How do you think she feels, the poor kid? Be nice to her, DeCenz. She’s a good shit.”

While DeCenz was working it out in his head I shut up and moved to the window.

“I can’t believe this,” he finally said.

“What?”

“Me having a kid.”

We looked at each other and laughed.

For about an hour we talked about Bunny and what DeCenz should do. Wasn’t all that tricky. I convinced him to drive back to Pawtucket that night, before word spread that he’d run.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked at the door.

“I’ll thumb back tomorrow.”

“To Pawtucket?”

“Where else am I gonna go? Practically everybody I know lives there.”

“What about Pop?”

“What about him? He’s my old man, DeCenz. The old fart needs me.”

He shook his head. “Boy, isn’t life fucked-up? Me ending up with Bunny and you with your old man.”

As was the case practically every night since I’d met her, I fell asleep thinking about Jane Weston. It was still dark when I awoke; I knew I hadn’t been asleep very long.

“How much time do we have?”

I sprang upright in my bed, bumping my head on my reading light. Someone laughed. I saw her silhouette in the window.

“Jane?”