“Up yours,” Riff said as he moved toward the rear door.

Behind the store was a little paved area enclosed by the walls of three buildings. In one corner were stacked cases of empties of various soft drinks and large glass bottles of distilled water in wooden crates. Against one wall were stacked cardboard display signs and a variety of dusty articles which Tony had cleared from the basement.

“We did it last week,” Tony explained to Riff. “Doc decided that everything had to be saved until he went into the basement and almost broke his neck when he tripped over something. So now, we’ve hauled all this junk out again. You know what?” he asked Riff.

“What?” Riff asked dutifully.

“All of it’s gonna go back,” Tony said.

“Doesn’t sound like important work to me,” Riff observed.

Tony sighed deeply. “I can’t do a hell of a lot more,” he admitted, and was surprised that he could say this without shame. Christ, he wasn’t any older than Riff, so why did he feel like a big brother or something? “I been thinking of going back to night school. What do you think?”

“I think you ought to have your head examined,” Riff said and quickly raised a hand in a gesture of peace, because Tony’s eyes had become dark. “Tony, listen, I’m here on really important business. We’re going to the center tonight to look for Bernardo.”

“Seems to me I heard he’s looking for you.” Tony wiped at his face because the day’s oppressive heat hung heavy in the yard. “How about something cold?”

Riff shook his head. “I’m here for something cool. A man who’s going to be at my side when I challenge Bernardo. Once and for all, we’re going to lay it on the line.”

Tony shook his head. “If you came to count me in, count me out.”

“You’re kidding,” Riff said. “Hold it.” Again he raised a hand to keep Tony from replying. “You’re going to say you’re not—and I’m gonna ask you why. So tell me?”

“Because it’s so stupid, even I can see it,” Tony replied. “Riff, listen…”

“I’m listening,” Riff interrupted him. “But it ain’t easy. Because it’s me asking you, Tony.” He tapped his friend’s chest, then his own. “It’s me, Riff, remember? Tony, for chrissake, stop pushing that garbage around! This is important!”

“Very important,” Tony was ironic. “Planning to get your head broken. On you it won’t be becoming.”

Because he was frankly puzzled, even worried about his friend, Riff took a backward step to see Tony in better perspective. A couple of years ago they had sworn their friendship was womb to tomb, sperm to worm; now he couldn’t reach Tony.

“What’s with you?” Riff asked. “It’s been a long time, man, our knowing each other. A long time, and I thought I knew your character. Boy,” he shook his head slowly, “I thought I knew you like I know myself. I’m real disappointed in finding out different.”