finish everything. You should see my warehouse sometime. I have at least one version of every idea I’ve ever had.”
Roy imagined an airplane hangar full of rubber cows that shot wine out of their udders and battery-operated kittens with massaging paws. “Fantastic. I’d love to have a look.”
They sipped their beers.
“Hey, you know, I actually have a camera set up in a Macaw over at my place, like a surveillance thing? It’s connected to an app on my phone. I put it in over a year ago when Elizabeth… Never mind. Anyway, I know you only fed the cat that one time, because the app shows whenever anyone goes into the kitchen.”
Shit. Roy scooted back his barstool. “I’m sorry.” He looked down at his feet. “I felt like a burglar in your house. And your cat hates me.”
Tupper laughed. “He’s a one-person cat. He misses my wife. It’s fine. Doesn’t matter. I just wanted you to know that I know so you’re not carrying it around, you know?”
For all his crisply ironed shirt neatness and insanity, Tupper Paulsen was a pretty nice fellow.
“Where are you from? I mean, originally?” Roy asked. Mars? Uranus? What color was Uranus?
“Maine,” Tupper said. “Elizabeth and I, we grew up together in the state of Maine.”
Roy pulled his glass toward him. He waited for the story of Tupper’s sad wife and single surviving twin, but Tupper just went around the bar and poured himself another pint of Guinness.
“Maybe the Hedgehog should be the Maine Lobster, to make it more personal,” Roy mused. He pushed his half-empty glass across the bar for Tupper to refill it. “Or a moose?”
“The Moose. That really sounds like a sex toy.”
“Can it make noises? Do moose even make noises?”
“I think they huff and sort of bellow.”
“Perfect.” Roy laughed.
Tupper came around the bar again and sat down.
“So, it’s just you and the cat in the house right now?”
Tupper nodded. “That’s sort of the reason I had to rush away. I thought she was close. And that’s why I’m using the Macaw. I know it sounds creepy. It’s just so I know when she decides to come back.”
Roy was confused. “So no one’s dead or anything awful?”
Tupper laughed and drank more beer. “No, everyone’s fine.”
“But your daughters’ room. All those sad pictures. The empty bed.”
Tupper laughed again. He appeared to be drunk. “That’s Elizabeth’s work. She’s an artist. We don’t have any kids.”
“I see.” A great weight floated off Roy’s shoulders, but he was no less confused. “So whose bedroom is it then?”
Tupper huffed, mooselike, into his Guinness. “You really need to come down to the warehouse sometime.”
Chapter 4
Ted’s face lit up when he spotted Stuart.
“Dad!” He burst out of the huddle of children and ran into Stuart’s arms. The other students shuffled over to their minders disinterestedly, or waited for their Hobby Horse teachers to lead them away.
Stuart hugged him. “Thought I’d surprise you. I need to ask someone about something inside the school, and then we can grab a slice of pizza or walk over to Ample Hills for ice cream. Sound good?”
Ted turned his freckled, pen-smudged face up to his father, his green eyes wide. “But Dad. It’s Wednesday. I go to the Brooklyn Stragetizer on Wednesdays and Fridays. Remember?”
“Strategizer,” Stuart corrected. “Sorry man, I forgot.”
He looked up and saw a pimply teenager wearing a faded Dark Side of the Moon T-shirt waving the red-and-black Strategizer flag, the signal that the group would be leaving soon. The boys lined up behind him were pale and scrawny, the kinds of boys who would rather play Dungeons & Dragons than soccer or basketball. Ted was doomed.
“You go have fun. I’ll see you after.”
* * *
“Hey, sorry to bother you again.” Stuart closed the door to the nurse’s office and shoved his hands in his pockets. A tall, fat kid lay on the cot with his eyes closed, dried snot around his nostrils, one sneaker off, one sneaker on. There was a hole in the knee of his track pants and the knee was bandaged.
Nurse Peaches swiveled around on her chair. “You find more of the fuckers?” she asked with a dimpled smile. “Sorry, Arnold. Excuse my French.”
The fat kid snickered, eyes still closed. They seemed to have an understanding. Still, Stuart couldn’t exactly ask her about procuring weed with a kid in the room.
“Uh, maybe.” He removed a hand from his pocket and ran it through his hair. “I know I’m being paranoid, but would you mind checking me again?”
Mind? Peaches