..... "Look at her eat that up," Earl says.
..... We have four sandwiches from the Portuguese truck. Eggs and ham for Earl and Remy. Two with sausage, ham, eggs, bacon, cheese and hot sauce for me.
..... Her tail wags like a whip. Looks up with egg on her nose. Licks it, dives in again.
..... Earl puts the paper down on the floorboards and I open the vent windows on my old green Ford.
..... Remy watches us through the windows as we empty out the basement for Abelardo. It used to be a plumber's. Old cracked toilets, odd lengths of pipe, buckets of rusted bolts. Two sheets of plywood make walls for the truck bed. We stack the trash up high between them. Earl sits on the tailgate and mops his forehead. I lug an old hot water heater up the concrete steps.
..... "The old ladies feed me too much," he says.
..... He makes room for the heater, we slide it in. Just fits.
..... Abelardo comes out the front, talking to himself. No, he's got a silver earpiece, for his phone. He's a lean man with slick hair and a suit. Got sunglasses on in the shade. He peels two bills off his money clip, holds them out to Earl.
..... Earl takes one, hands me the other. I shut the tailgate.
..... "Whoa, fellas," Abelardo says. "Get the fridge and the anvil out the garage. Then you're done."
..... "There's more? We gotta rearrange the load now, Mr. Gutierrez," Earl says.
..... "Get to it. And don't leave no mess, you want my business." He struts to his Lexus. Won't look us in the eye.
..... "Abelardo," Earl calls to his back.
..... "I got a call," he says, and drives away.
..... "When a customer does us like that, try to look mean," Earl says.
..... The fridge is so old it has a radio built on top. It's rusted and heavy. Earl drops his side twice. We get the straps, and I carry it up on my back.
..... "Sorry," he says. "Back ain't what it used to be."
..... The anvil must weigh three hundred. I can do twice that at the gym, straight deadlift. I straddle it and go wide, stretch my sweatshirt. It comes off the ground, and I walk it to the truck. It hits the blacktop like a shot.
..... "Damn, son," Earl says.
..... "That was heavy," I say.
..... I rest awhile, then heave it in the bed.
..... "Don't dent your truck," Earl says. "One dent's bad enough."
..... I look at him until he smiles.
..... "What about the fridge?" Earl asks.
..... "Let's hit the scrap yard. I'll finish later, after I drop you home."

*********************

..... I was dreaming about crushing up Horace's buddies in a garbage truck when someone slapped me awake. "Wake up, Denny."
..... It was Milton. "Get some shoes on, and be quiet."
..... My clothes were tight. I needed new. "You need to stop growing so much," Alice had said.
..... I followed Milton out to the apartment's dirty hallway. Careful not to wake Randy or Kaycee.
..... "We're doing man things," he said. "Don't say I never did nothing for you."
..... It was nice and cool out for a summer night. Folks sat on stoops drinking beer. NWA on the radio. We walked down the block. Milton frowned the whole way to the yard with the dogs. We always heard them walking home from school. Never saw them. Would've been nice to play with them. The yard had a rusty chain link fence around a few cars with flat tires and busted out windows. They were stuffed with buckets of old tools.
..... Milton slapped me up the head. "Pay attention."
..... Around back, a man with big arms sat on a bucket, smoking a thin cigar. He stood when he saw us coming.
..... "This your boy?"
..... "Sure is, Stanley."
..... Stanley puffed his cigar. He looked all puffy. "Big boy. What's his name?"
..... "Dennis. We call him Denny."
..... He reached for my face and I flinched. Milton smacked the back of my head. "Let Stan check you out, retard."
..... He thumbed my cheeks near the eye, squeezed my hands, slapped my flat belly. "Won't cut easy. But not much padding on him." He bent down, looked me in the eye.
..... "You know how to fight, Denny?"
..... "Fought in juvie," I said.
..... "You ever shit blood?"
..... "No."
..... "Then you didn't lose much, huh?"
..... "Nope."
..... "What about the bigger boys?"
..... Stan's eyes looked like one of Kaycee's dolls.
..... "Answer him," Milton said, smacked me.
..... I launched at Stanley, barrelled him over. He was bigger but wasn't expecting it. I grabbed for his nuts. He laughed and threw me into some old paint cans and dirt. The dogs came from round the back, two fast black shapes.
..... Stan was laughing. Milton held his hands up, looked ready to pee.
..... "Don't move none," Stan said.
..... Two big pit bulls circled and snarled at us, heads like basketballs. They were covered in scars. Brown and white, three eyes between them.
..... I held still like I had in juvie, when one of the bigger boys came looking for something. Emptied my heart. The dogs sniffed me, chuffed, then went after Milton.
..... "Said don't move. Quit squirming," Stan said.
..... Maybe they smelled fear. Milton looked like he wanted to smack them dogs upside the head but knew they'd take that hand and eat it later.
..... Stan whistled, and the dogs took off toward the back.
..... "Milton, thought you were gonna shit yourself," Stan laughed. He slapped me on the shoulder. You got heart, boy. Let's go inside. Get you a fight."

*********************

..... The anvil fetches a good price. We divvy up, and I drop Earl home with Remy.
..... "Keep what you get for the fridge. Gas money," he says.
..... That woman's car is parked up the block. I point. "She's got a bad fan belt," I say.
..... Then I go back for the fridge.
..... It's hardly worth the trip. But I don't want trouble with Abelardo. We need the work. I get ten bucks for it. Fuel gauge says quarter tank. Earl knows a lot of old ladies who like to cook, though. Maybe we'll eat. I drive back to his place.
..... When I roll up, he's out front with some bangers around an old BMW. It's got flat looking tires. I kill the engine, roll my shoulders. There's three of them. Skinny boy talking loud, footballer backing him up, another one in back of the car, holding Remy.
..... "This ain't right. That's my dog," Earl says.
..... "Dog ran out and made me ding up my Beemer, old man. You got insurance?" Skinny says.
..... "Not my fault you hit the curb, son. I can pay for it."
..... "You know how much these dubs cost?"
..... "They ain't dubs, Cee," the hefty one says. "They eighteens."
..... "We'll pay," I say, walk over slow. I don't want them to freak. They do anyway.
..... Skinny waves a gun from his waistband like a flag. "Whoa, back off!"
..... I hold out my pay. "Give him the dog."
..... The gun gives his eyes some fire. He aims at my chest. "Listen, you squeaky voiced motherfucker. We takin' the dog. Maybe your money too. You like that?"
..... "No," I say. He's close enough to finish off. I let him work off steam. Maybe I won't have to shove the gun down his throat, kick his jaw shut. I don't want to. But I will.
..... "C'mon, son. She's my dog," Earl says.
..... "Jello give you five hundred for that dog, Cee," the fat footballer says.
..... "You got five yards, old man?"
..... "Not right now."
..... "Then fuck you," the kid says. Keeps the gun on me. "You move, big man, you dead."
..... They peel off in the Beemer. I feel bad, but would feel worse if Earl or Remy got killed.
..... "Thought you were tough," Earl says. "Why'd you let 'em take Remy?"
..... "We'll get her."
..... "How we gonna do that?"
..... "Let's eat."
..... "That's all you think about. You just had two cheese steaks for lunch."

*********************

..... Milton pushed the needle through the ragged skin of my ear. I'm still panting. In my quiet place.
..... "You knocked that boy's eye out."
..... He sewed my ear up sloppy. Stan was shaking his head, counting out bills.
..... "Denny, you gonna make some money. Just don't be so hard. No one'll want to fight you."
..... The older boy had tried to tear my ear off. So I body slammed him, kneed his face until it looked like a muskrat hit by a dump truck.
..... "Should a doctor sew me up?"
..... "You're scarred up already, those burns on your arms, that hole in your head. What's one more?"
..... They laughed and dabbed my face with an iodine-soaked rag. It stung.
..... "What do I tell my teacher?"
..... "Tell 'em you got in a fight, retard," Milton laughed, pulled the stitches tight.

*********************