Freaky Deaky Read Online Free PDF Page B

off.’ ”
    “That’s an expression,” Chris said. “You don’t have to take it literally.” He watched the sneaky doctor nod, thinking up something else.
    “By the way, have you ever experienced impotence?”
    Chris took his time. He didn’t see a trap, so he said, “No, as a matter of fact, I haven’t. Not once in my life.”
    “Really?”
    “I’ve got witnesses.”
    “Well, it’s not important.”
    Chris stared at the doctor’s lowered head, the thin, carefully combed hair. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
    The doctor tapped his pen without looking up. “I suppose you could be one of the rare exceptions.”
    “To what?”
    “Well, in a study made at the University of Munster—that’s in West Germany,” the doctor said, looking up—“tests showed that assertive, self-confident, macho-type males, if you will, were found almost invariably to have a low sperm count.”
    “That’s interesting,” Chris said. “We finished here?” He got up, not waiting for an answer, said, “I have to get back, clean out my desk . . .” andsaw the guy’s innocent young-doctor face raise with a pleasant expression.
    “Yes, you’re leaving Bombs and Explosives. What we haven’t yet discussed is where you’re going. How did you put it, ‘Up to the seventh floor and down at the other end of the hall’?”
    The doctor waited as Chris sat down again.
    “You seem somewhat agitated.”
    “I’m fine.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “I’m supposed to meet Phyllis at Galligan’s.” Chris looked at his watch: it was four twenty. “At five.”
    The young doctor said, “We shouldn’t be too much longer,” and smiled. He did, he smiled for the first time, looked right at Chris and said, “What I’m curious about, and perhaps you can explain, why you’ve requested a transfer to Sex Crimes.”

4
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    Skip swallowed the tiny square of blotter acid, smaller than the nail of his little finger, dropped it with a sip of beer and got comfortable to wait for the cleansing head show to begin. The seams of the plastic chair were coming apart but it was fine, deep and cushy. The only thing that bothered him was the light, it was so bright in here facing that bare white wall and no shade on the lamp. It smelled like Robin had been painting, trying to make the dump presentable.
    Here she was back in their old neighborhood, a low-rent apartment on Canfield near Wayne State, where they’d hung out years ago in their elephant bells, got stoned and laid and would slip off on dark nights to mess with the straight world. Back when this was the inner-city place to be.
    That naked lamp was flashing now, pretending it was lightning, streaking across the bare white wall. Sometimes when he dropped acid everything would become suspended and float in space. Or thingswould come at him, like a person’s nose, clear across a room. Robin came out of the kitchen with two cans of Stroh’s and sure as hell her arm extended about ten feet to hand him one. It was pretty good blotter. She was speaking now.
    “I’ve missed you. You know how long it’s been?”
    Only she finished before all the words got to him. This was something new. Skip raised his hand, waved it in front of him and felt water. That’s why the sound of her voice was slowed up. She asked him what he was doing. He said, “Nothing.” It was like being in a swimming pool lined with bookshelves full of books and a ton of old underground newspapers she’d saved; Robin now sitting against the desk piled with folders and notebooks and shit, the bare white wall behind her. Her lips moved. Now he heard:
    “When was the last time we were together?”
    Skip said, “You kidding?” Saw dates flash in his mind and had to pick the right one. “April of ‘seventy-nine in federal court.”
    Robin shook her head and the water became sparkly, fizzed up like club soda.
    “I don’t count that. I mean the last time we were alone together.”
    “Well, that was in L.A.,” Skip