Big laughed. “You can have the chair, okay? Give it to that kid of yours to play with.” To me: “Wheel him.”

“Where’s the truck?” I said.

“Shut up and wheel him.”

“Is there a truck?” I said. “Or are we just taking a little walk?” Stalling, because that’s what you did in situations like that. Because what was there to lose?

The big man yanked Bert’s hair, and Bert’s face creased with pain.

“I’ll just do this old payaso right here, you keep talking. Blow out his eyes and make you fuck the sockets.”

I rolled the wheelchair forward. The tires caught in the gravel, kicked up rocks that pinged the spokes. I pretended to be stuck. My hands stayed wrapped around the grips.

Big maintained his hold on Bert and watched me closely. His companion’s attention span wasn’t as good, and I saw him glance off into the darkening trees.

“Bill?” said Aimee.

“Bill?” mimicked Big. “That’s what you call yourself, now, Willie?”

“He’s Bill Baker,” I said. “Who do you think he is?”

Big’s eyes slitted. “Was I talking to you, asshole? Shut the fuck up and get the fuck over here.”

“Hey,” said Bill, cheerfully. “What do you know? I thought I recognized that voice. Ignacio Vargas. Long time, Nacho. Hey, man.”

Recognition didn’t trouble the big man. He smirked. “Long time no see, nigger.”

“Real long time, Nacho. Doc, I used to sell this vaquero product. He was smart, never tasted, just distributed to his homeboys. Hey, Nacho, didn’t you go off somewhere for a vacation—Lompoc? Or did you make it to Quentin.”

“Nigger,” said Vargas, “before I went away I tried to party with you and the retard over at that house in Niggertown, but you got away. Now, here we are, after all those years. One a those . . . reunions. Who said you don’t get a second chance?”

His mouth opened, displaying rows of broken, brown teeth.

Two decades of sanctuary, and I’d brought the enemy to the gates.

“You know what they say, amigo,” said Bill. “If you don’t succeed at first—but, hey, let the old guy go. He’s just a doctor happens to treat me, got a bad heart, gonna kick soon, anyway, why bother?”

Bert had been staring at the gravel. Now his eyes climbed very gradually. Came to rest on me. Dispirited.

Bill said, “Let her go, too. She can’t hurt anybody.”