Easter City Read Online Free PDF Page A

where I had lost Cranston and
his thugs down that side street at the Bones restaurant; the part
where I saw the young man with the cane and the black
limousine…
    Joq continued telling me how he had
ultimately acquired the usher uniforms. After his pummeling, Joq
had dusted himself off, walked across the street to La Rouge, and
scouted. Apparently it hadn’t taken him long to find the
‘carrot-top usher brats’. There were two of them and Joq, seeing as
I had saved him, had deemed me worthy to partake in his ‘culinary
heist’. He had waited for me in my gutter, took me to this bar and,
when I fell asleep last night, had returned to La Rouge. He
supposedly beat the snob-ushers senseless, taken their clothes and
headed back here. Joq had implacable timing, as tomorrow was the
thirteenth.
    I looked at him and the clothes and keys.
That Julia woman will be shot dead. And I was leaving in a car
without Joq in that dream. What will happen to him? I thought.
Maybe he was in the car, and I just didn’t see him. I felt a shove
in my gut and knew that wasn’t the case. Still, the opportunity to
have a supply of food and some color in my dull life was tempting.
I wanted the car to take me away from this Hell—take me away from
Main Street to a real, permanent fantasy, with food I didn’t have
to steal.
    I told him I’d do it.
    #
    “What kind o’ name is ‘Nip’ anyway?”
    I grunted, buttoning the pant waist. The
clothes were too wide, though the snob kids must’ve been shorter
than Joq, as the sleeves of the shirt were too short and the pants’
legs came up above my ankles.
    “Don’t know. Some escort gave it to me. Only
nice escort I’ve ever met. Said she had a baby, lost it, and never
got to name it. Said she wanted his name to be Nip because he
always pinched her stomach…” I slipped my arms through the vest;
too wide—too short. I hesitated at the buttons.
    “Say, Joq… These outfits belonged to Wealthy
Devil kids?”
    Joq shook his head. I eyed him and went back
to buttoning the vest.
    “Because if they do…”
    “They’re don’t! On me word as the most
‘andsomest fing in the world!”
    “So they’re kids of the Wealthiest Devils?” I
smirked.
    Joq looked up from his shoelaces. “‘ere!
What’s you worried about anyway? We tell a waiter that some Wealthy
Devil sends ‘is complements to the chef, an’ wants a whole ‘car
full’ of ‘is best!” Joq nodded at the car keys. “We pull ‘er ‘round
front an’ ‘ave ‘er filled up.” He pulled bunny ears and stood.
“That’s ‘ow it’s goin’ to go, Nipple.”
    It’s not…
    “What if these kids come back for revenge?
They’re not Wealthy Devil kids but they’re sure as shit not
beggars. They might come back with their parents or something and
accuse us of stealing their uniforms.”
    Joq stood, fully dressed, pocketed the car
keys and went to the grimy restroom to wash his face and smooth out
his hair. The mirror was cracked but free of profanity—the likes of
which was usually scrawled in lipstick or scratched into the glass
of abandoned restroom mirrors on Main Street. Joq flipped the
handle on the sink. I took six breaths before the faucet rattled
water.
    “They won’t come. The looks on their faces!
Ha! Never in me life ‘ave I seen such a pair o’ wimperin’ ‘ickle
brats!” Said Joq, going into a laughing jag. I noticed that his
knuckles were red. He ran them under the water until he’d collected
himself.
    Maybe he gave them a scare, I thought.
    Joq dried his face on a dusty hand towel and
patted my chest. “You’ll want to wash that look off your face!
Confidence is our friend, Nipple. Confidence.” He patted me again
and I followed him back to the bar.
    “I’m not scared or anything.” I said. “Just
hungry.” I was used to being hungry, sure, but experience in
starving doesn’t ease the feeling that there’s a gaping hole where
your stomach should be.
    I swayed a little. I plucked at the