“Fact is, my taxes pay for her room and board and her medical care. You ever think about that? And you know what? My wife got sick and ended up in St. Terry’s for ten days. You want to know how much that cost me? Ninety thousand bucks. I kid you not. I’ll be paying that off until I’m ninety myself. Pearl gets sick? It’s not gonna cost her a dime. They got programs. Shelter and clothing and three meals a day. I should be so unfortunate. Point is, I’m done with her and I’m done with her friend. Tell you something else and this makes no sense: Dandy’s a smart guy. His father taught math at the high school. You ever hear about that?”

“Actually, I did.”

“Dandy could have made something of himself, you know? He decides to take the low road, why does that obligate me?”

I made a few more mouth noises and then excused myself. Raise the subject of the homeless and everybody has a strong opinion. Fifty percent of the local citizens are sympathetic and the other fifty are pissed as hell. Does the problem get solved? No, it does not.

I retrieved my car and headed back down Milagro toward the beach, hanging a right when I reached the small side street where Harbor House was located. Again, I parked the car, hoofed the half block, and went in. The common room was largely empty, but there they were, Pearl and Dandy sprawled on adjacent couches, both of them dead to the world. She had her jacket pulled over her head but her body type was distinct. I couldn’t miss the bulk of her, swaddled in fake leather. Dandy reclined in an upholstered chair, hands clasped across his lap, his legs extended in front of him. He was slack-mouthed and snoring. The air around them smelled of fruitcake.

I found a chair and watched for a while, wondering at the life they led. I couldn’t handle it myself. I don’t have the discipline. I might manage to be idle for half a day and then I’d be back in my routine: getting up at six, jogging my three miles, going into the office, walking up to Rosie’s for a bite to eat. Doing nothing makes me itch. I don’t have the temperament or the strength of character.