A little mystery to lure him. He was interested but peeved. He wanted to stay and show off for Carlotta. “Is it important?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Oh. Well.” He tapped his pipe over an overflowing ashtray, picked up his tailored black leather jacket. “Well, maybe we’ll be back a little later, Omar.”

“I’m a little tired tonight. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Okay. Good night, Carlotta.” He waved his hips as he walked, showing off his fine big ass.

Down through the stink and out into the night, cool and clean. Rennel was still waving his butt. For me, I suppose.

“Well, what’s the problem?” he asked.

“What?”

“What did you want me for?”

“Not a damned thing, you great gawping booby!”

“For Christ’s sake!”

“Yes, for Christ’s hairy ass! Couldn’t you see that they wanted you out of there?”

“They didn’t say anything.” He pouted. His feelings were hurt.

“They wanted to screw and you were in the way.”

“Well, why in hell didn’t they say so?”

“You’re supposed to be the psychologist. You ought to be able to tell when you walk in on two people in bed that they more than likely aren’t in the mood for intellectual conversation with a third party.”

He leaned against a car parked at the curb and looked at his feet.

“You’re really awfully dense about people, Rennel.” I was beginning to feel sorry for him.

“I’m an only child. It’s a common…”

“Shit.”

We walked down the street. The other houses were dark. Working people already asleep. It was late. I’d come from the movies before I stopped at Sam’s.

“If you’ll give me a lift home, I’ll give you a cup of coffee.”

He perked up a little, started wagging his ass again, hesitantly. We slammed into his old Rambler. I hung on and said nothing as Rennel popped the clutch and tried to screech away from the curb. Performed his rumrunner’s routing for me.

Up in my room, Rennel flopped on the bed and arranged the crotch of his pants. I went down the hall to the bathroom for water, put the can on my recently acquired hot plate, and flung the dregs from the cups out through the skylight. I sat down on the floor and waited for the water to boil.

“How long have they been together? Sam and Carlotta?” Rennel asked.

“It can’t have been long. He hardly knew her at that god-awful party for Figarty.”

“All I know is, after you left somebody brought some wine and Omar took it upstairs. Carlotta was going around for a while asking everybody where he was. I guess she found him. I take mine black.”