There is blood, slick and matte in liquid tendrils, dripping down the cop’s wooden club. The cop is pushing Mike, and Bridget tells him to just get against the wall. Paul is on his cell phone. The cop cuffs Mike and then puts handcuffs on the American, who is still unconscious on the floor.

The cop scowls at Mike and is taking his radio from his belt when Paul says something in broken Thai to him. A name. He is giving the name of another cop. You know? He is on his way here, wait for him. When the cop hears this he cracks Mike in the spine with his club. The shot feels electric and hot up into Mike’s neck. He has done that before, thinks Mike.

The cop orders everyone back. Only Paul is left close enough to Mike and the American to translate. Mike looks at the wall. He can feel his heart pounding and hears the cop and Paul parlaying. He strains to listen. He wishes he could understand the cop’s radio. He knows suddenly that his fate crackles along those shortwaves. He wishes that it had all gone differently, but when he looks into the wall, he realizes with a strange surge of happiness that it’s all just totally fucked. He imagines the horrors of prison in Thailand. He keeps his eyes open and isn’t panicking and this gives him confidence. Let’s just see how far it can go, let’s see how much trouble a white kid from New York can actually get into. Is there a hole in the world so deep that my father can’t track me down and pull me out?

Someone bangs on the metal door. Mike is straining to see, twisting his neck for a sliver of vision behind him.

Another cop has arrived, a lieutenant, and somehow Burton is right behind him. Mike thinks it’s as if they came together. He sees them over his shoulder and sees how the lieutenant intimidates the uniformed cop. The lieutenant looks like a pig. This pig lieutenant was my contact, Mike realizes.

The uniformed cop relates what happened with deference to the lieutenant and the lieutenant grunts. Mike feels the flow of the narrative, where the American punched him, where the cop swiftly subdued the troublemakers. Mike darts a look up the stairs, searching for Tweety. She is gone from her perch.

Mike listens to Burton and the lieutenant talking as the cop uncuffs him.

“How’s your new son?” asks Burton, “All his sisters taking care of him?”

“I don’t like having to come out in the rain,” says the lieutenant. “I like to stay dry.”

“Of course,” says Burton.