Roy looked down at his wrecked boots. “I don’t know. I mean, I know you don’t like it when I need to talk to you. And I don’t mean to bother you. I never do. But . . . I don’t know, you just seem different.” Roy checked John’s expression. John seemed more like himself, and that was both good and awful. Roy kept on. More apology always seemed to help with John. “I just didn’t know if something else had happened to you to make you so upset. I didn’t know if you were okay.”

“That’s it? You just want to know if I’m okay. Well, wow, Roy. What do I do with that? And if I’m not okay, then what? Are you going to help me out? You gonna come to my rescue, Mighty Mouse?”

“No. I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know what you need.”

“From you? Let’s see, what do I need from you? You’re a pain in my ass, Roy. You’ve always been a pain in my ass. The only thing I need from you is never to have met you. That’s what I wish for on all my birthday candles and every shooting star. Did you know that? But since I can’t have what I wish for on fucking candles and comets, if you really want to help me out, Roy, then maybe just drop dead. That would do it. That would work fine.”

Roy’s throat clenched and his pulse banged into his vision. He hadn’t always been a pain in the ass. That wasn’t true. John wanted it both ways. He wanted it all the ways. Hey, Roy, need a pack of smokes? So wash my car. Do it real nice. Meh, that’s not good enough, Roy. You missed a spot. So, hey, Roy, how ’bout you cut my grass for pocket change? Hey, Roy, you stupid shit, I know you about broke your back doing my yard work, but get up early and clean out this garage, whydontcha. . . .

Roy hadn’t been a pain in the ass all the times he did everything John asked of him. He hadn’t been a pain in the ass when John had given him a gun and told him to come to the parking lot and point it at the people who would be buying the picture of the storm coming up over the waterwheel and the mountain. It was a nice picture. Roy had liked it.

Of course, he’d done it all wrong, which had ruined everything, but he’d never said a word or done a single thing that got them in trouble for it. He’d done everything John told him to do.

But here on the McDonald’s blacktop, Roy remembered that he’d never won an argument in his entire life.

John actually did spit. “Goddamn, I’m thirsty.”