The Subject Steve: A Novel Read Online Free PDF

down to the tough schools and make speeches to the black kids. They understand hardship. I told them if they didn't get knocked up or join those machine-gun gangs I'd send them to college. Maybe it's a waste, but if we get one good fellow out of it, one Washington Irving, it'll all be worth it."
    "Dad, please."
    "The papers are drawn up, Randy. You're Randy, right?"
    He put out a crusted hand. The nearest son took it, started to cry.
    "Christ," said the old man, "what I wouldn't give for a tough black son."
    I slid out of bed, stood.
    "Where you going?"
    "I smell encroaching nothingness," I said.
    "I know what you're smelling," said the old man. "It's not my fault. It's because the girl hasn't come. I keep pushing the button and she never comes."
    The surgeon Lovinger caught up with me in the lobby.
    "You've got to let me cut," she said. "I've got us a room and everything."
    Cudahy was waiting for me out on the curb. The taxi driver took us through the park.
    "Detour," he said. "Parade."
    "What parade?" I said.
    "Landlord Day," said the driver. "See the float?"
    A great papier-mache tenement house was rolling down the avenue. Men in matching motor caps carried signs: "Rent Control Is Mind Control."
    "It's all about the little man," said Cudahy.
    "The little man?" said the driver.
    "The little lord," said Cudahy.
    There was an old movie on TV about android gladiators. It was set in the future, the late seventies. Cudahy sat beside me, cubing feta cheese.
    "You know," he said, " 'robot' is a Czech word. I can't remember what it means. Here, this came."
    He pushed an open envelope across the cutting board, shrugged when he saw me rub at the vinegar stains.
    Dear Enrollee:
    This notice hereby notifies you that your health plan has reached its maximum amount of maximum expenditure. We want to thank you for being such a faithful and valued customer.
    _Sincerely,
    Fran Kincaid
    Accounts Representative_
    "This," said Cudahy, knifing at the screen, "is where the android's faceplate comes off to reveal a menacing tangle of wires. It's like a simile for our technology-crazed society."
    "Insurance company cut me loose," I said.
    "You're better off. I don't have any coverage. Look at me. I'm fine."
    "I was fine, too."
    "Fran Kincaid," said Cudahy. "Accounts representative. What do you think old Fran is doing right now? Slipping into her home-from-work dungarees, whipping up a little din-din, maybe?"
    "What?"
    "I can almost smell it," said Cudahy. "Garlic potatoes. Yum. Another tough day at the office, and now Fran's unwinding with a little Chablis, calling her sister, the perennial grad student. 'So, what's up, sis?' 'Not much, how's by you, Fran?' 'Oh, the usual, bringing ruin down on the poor slobs of the republic.' Am I right? Fucking Fran."
    "Who?" I said. "Grad student?"
    " 'Look, sis,' " Cudahy went on, doing voices now, twitching up his mouth, "'you've got to find something and stick with it. The rest of us Kincaids, we work.' 'Up yours, Fran, everything's so easy for you, you don't get my deal at all.' 'Mom was right about you, sis. You're not as smart or as pretty as you think you are, but not dumb and ugly enough to take care of yourself. It's sad, really.' 'At least I didn't marry what's-his-name.' 'At least I didn't fuck my high school trivia team coach.' 'Finger-fucked.' 'Titter titter. Mmm.' 'What are you cooking, Fran?' 'Garlic potatoes.' "
    "Cudahy," I said. "Hey."
    "What?"
    "What are you doing?"
    "I don't know. It just wells up in me sometimes."
    It was the last thing I'd ever hear him say. I nodded off while the androids praised Caesar in transistorized Elizabethan, woke to a bad stench. Cudahy's beautiful heart must have blown on a sprint to the john. His pants were at his ankles. I'd never noticed how hairy and slender his ankles were. All that grunt and shove of him rising up from those tender stalks. A new roll of toilet paper lay near his hand. I turned Cudahy over, saw a bubble on his lips. The bubble probably meant