When it finally arrives, graduation is anti-climatic, but Tor's beaming when I get my degree. Doug and Ted have come and insist that they must take the new Dr. Torrence, Dr. Torrence, Dr. Langford, and Dr. Joynes to dinner that evening to celebrate. It suddenly hits me that lawyers hold JD's, so poor Ted's the only one at the table who isn't a doctor of something. I also know he isn't the least intimidated or impressed. From all the research work he does for his clients, he can hold up his end of a conversation on most any subject without any trouble.
We spend the summer in teaching sessions for the institute. When the fall semester starts, our workload drops because one of the professors from the U comes down to teach for the semester, so Tor's begun another book. We have also built up a comfortable bank account with the royalties from our books, our teaching, and I replaced what I used for my education from the money I got from the sale of my house. It comes in handy when Tor's beloved Triumph dies and can't be fixed without costing more than it's worth. But I'm shocked when he comes home in a Mercedes convertible. I'd never spend that kind of money on a car, but I'm glad he was thoughtful enough to get an automatic so I can drive it. The first time I try, I fall in love with it, too.
One morning Tor comes storming up from his lab. "Drew, come with me."
"Where?"
"Supply room at the institute. I need you to help me find some cobalt. The polyhedra are about ready to come up to the stage for me to add cobalt and start timing the process to bloom and I'm out of the damn stuff."
There isn't a box or bottle that we leave unchecked, but the one container I find and hand Tor gets a loud snort. "No way I can use something this crude; it would introduce too many variables. It's got to be high purity. I'll get on the WATS to Langford and see if there's any at the university."
While Tor's on hold, Langford makes several calls, but there's none available of the grade Tor wants. Next we hit the one drugstore in town. It isn't that large, but the druggist nods when Tor tells him what he wants.
"You must be from the institute. I've never had any use for it, but I'll give you the address and phone number of the supply house I buy from. If you're going up that way, they ought to be able to help you."
He jots the information down on a slip of paper and hands it to Tor. Tor takes a look at it and turns to me with a grin. "Want to spend a day in your old hometown, babe?"
"Sure. We can run by and see Doug and Ted."
"Might as well. The tank's going to have to wait, so it won't hurt to make it a day longer."
We pull in at their house right behind Doug. "Andy, Greg, it's good to see you. I hope you're planning on staying a while."
"Depends on whether or not I can get what I need," Tor says. "Right now I need to use your phone."
"You know where it is. Andy and I will be in the kitchen."
Tor runs ahead and I walk in with Doug. "Where's Ted?" I ask when Ted doesn't come to meet us.
"He's out of town doing some research for a client. He'll be disappointed that he missed you."
"I'm sorry, too."
Tor comes out of Doug's study shaking his head. "They're closed on Saturdays and it's too late to get there now. Want a couple of free-loaders for the weekend, Doug?"
"Delighted to have you. It's lonely around here without Ted. You're welcome at any time, Greg. This is Andy's home, yours, too. Why don't we get dressed and go out to dinner, I leave the kitchen to Ted."
On our way to the restaurant, Doug stops at a mall to pick up a few things. He suggests that unless we want to tag along, we can meet in front of the bookstore about midway.
In the center of the store I see a display of The Dying Sound. There are two teen-aged girls looking at one of our books and talking a lot so I ease toward them, pretending I'm looking at paperbacks so my back is to them.
"Isn't he the cutest thing you've ever seen?"
"Adorable, but he's a little boy. I like the other one better. Can you imagine how he'd look at the beach with all those muscles? He's got a beautiful face and I love blond hair on a man."
"He must be Greg, because it says he's a doctor, so the other one has to be Drew. I love that name."
"I'll bet it's not him at all. I mean look at that picture. It's got to be awful old because he can't be out of high school and it says he has a college degree."
"I don't care if he's in the ninth grade, I'd date anybody cute as that. Are you going to buy a copy?"
"I'm getting it for my dad's birthday. I wish I could get a picture of Greg for my room."
"Write the publisher. They sometimes have pictures they send out."
"Really! I wish I could see him for real."
I know they're looking at the picture I took of Tor and me for the back cover of the dust jacket and I can't help thinking, 'Dream on, honey. You'll never know Tor like I do.'
Tor comes up beside me. "Wonder how they're selling?"
"Didn't you ask?"
"Manager's out. He's supposed to be back in a few minutes."
Tor takes a step back and bumps into one of the girls. When he turns to apologize, she looks at him and lets out a shriek. "It's him!"
I'd like to find a place to hide, but Tor grabs my arm. The other girl looks at me, her eyes get wide. "You're real!"
"I hope so."
"Did you really write this book?"
I shake my head. "Tor wrote it. I did the photographs."
"You've really finished college?"
"If I haven't somebody's in a lot of trouble."
The other girl holds out the copy of the book she's been looking at. "Would you autograph this? It's for my dad."
"Sure." I take my pen and write, With our hope that this helps contribute to a better world, and sign it. Just as I hand it to Tor a man comes running over and snatches the book from Tor's hand.
"What are you kids doing? You know better than to write in a book. You'll have to pay for it."
The girl opens her mouth to answer, but Tor snaps, "Since when is it illegal for an author to autograph a book for a customer?"
"It's not, if you wrote it." He looks at both of us and at the back cover, then shakes his head. "It can't be."
Tor draws himself up full height. "I'm Dr. Greg Torrence and this is my brother Dr. Drew Torrence. If we're causing you so much trouble, I'll pay for the copy we autographed and give it to this young lady, then leave."
"No, wait!"
"No way. If we can't do someone a favor without a big hassle, we're not interested. Come on, Drew."
The guy follows us to the front of the store, begging Tor and me to stick around and autograph more copies, but Tor pays for the book and literally drags me out of the place. The guy's attitude's hit Tor wrong and that's it.
The girls follow us outside and the one that wanted the book says to Tor, "Thanks, Dr. Torrence. My dad's birthday is tomorrow and he'll be thrilled. He won't believe I was lucky enough to get it autographed by both of you."
Tor signs the book and hands it to her. "I hope we didn't embarrass you. I didn't like the way that guy came on to us."
She gives us a big smile. "He's always grouchy. Nobody pays him any attention. Please let me pay you for this."
He gives her his beautiful smile. "No, it's our pleasure."
"Thank you so much, Dr. Torrence. It's really great of you both."
"You should have gotten her address." I tell Tor after the girls have walked on.
"Why?"
"She wants a picture of you and the other one wants a picture of me."
"You wouldn't have sent them one?"
"I might have."
"You're nuts, but if you want to be some teeny-bopper's heart throb, go ahead."
"Good. I'll send the one that liked you a copy of the one Vince had in his room. She said she'd love to see all your muscles."
"I'll kill you!" Tor screams. A security guard looks at us and we might have been thrown out of the mall if Doug hadn't come up about then.
The restaurant he takes us to is on the edge of town and loaded with atmosphere. The maitre d' bows and calls Doug 'Your Honor' before leading us to a quiet table. It's the first time I've ever been in a place with no prices on the menu so I hesitate until Doug makes suggestions. When we eat out, Tor's strictly a meat and potatoes man, so he asks for a filet, but I go with Doug and order shish kabob. I have the usual hassle about whether I'm old enough to have a drink, and even Doug's word as a judge doesn't carry any weight. I have to dig in my wallet for identification. Even then the waiter questions whether it's fake. After Doug assures him that it's a perfectly valid driver's license, I get my vodka tonic. Of course my face is as red as a beet by the time it's over, but I nearly flip out when two waiters start for our table, one of them carrying two long swords flaming away.
While we're eating, I notice a couple two tables away who keep looking at Tor and me. The man whispers something to the woman. She looks at us and then nods. I'm not too happy about this, so I mention it to Doug. He glances their way and says, "That's the director of our city zoo. I know him slightly."
It's Doug they recognize, so I relax and enjoy my dinner. Before we get to our dessert, they get up to leave, but stop at our table on the way out.
"Doug, it's nice to see you. I believe you know my wife."
We all stand and Doug introduces us.
"You're the Torrences who wrote The Dying Sound, of course. I was certain I recognized you. I was telling Edna what a fine book it is. I hope if you're in town for a few days you'll find time to visit our zoo. We're quite proud of it."
"Thank you," I say, "but we're just here for the weekend. It is a nice zoo, though it's been a few years since I've seen it."
"Then you'll appreciate the changes we've made." He turns to Doug. "I'd be delighted to take you through myself."
"That's most kind, Bill, but we'd hate to impose."
"Not at all. I'd like to have the Torrences autograph the copy of their book in the zoo's library and my personal copy as well. Don't hesitate to call me personally when you can visit."
Once they have gone, Doug asks, "How does it feel to be recognizable celebrities?"
"Damned embarrassing, " I answer.
We leave Doug's early Monday morning and find the medical supply house the druggist mentioned. The manager listens while Tor explains his need for high purity cobalt, then shakes his head. Nothing they have comes close to the level Tor has specified, but he's good enough to suggest a manufacturing chemist that might be willing to run a small amount. Following his directions, we drive to the industrial area.
The plant is so small in comparison with the other buildings around, we almost miss it.
"This can't be it; it's too small."
"They're specialists. They run small amounts for people like me and test samples for some of the smaller corporations, so they don't need a lot of space. Come on, you'll see."
Tor asks the receptionist for the manager. When he comes out of his office, I'm surprised to see anyone so young in such a job. He looks us over and grins. "Torrence and Torrence, if I'm not mistaken."
"How'd you know?" Tor asks.
"Who wouldn't if they read. That's a damn fine book, but you aren't here to talk. What can I do for you?"
Tor tells him.
"Take about an hour to run it up. Good thing you got to us early; we haven't anything going in the small lab at the moment. If you're interested, you can watch."
We follow him down the hall to a small room where he makes us put on something like jump-suits, surgical gloves, shoe covers, and a fabric head cover. We have to cover our faces with surgical masks.
"We do quite a few specialized medical preparations, so we have to maintain a sterile lab. For the amount you want, it will be easier to run it here rather than in the open lab."
He hands one of the chemists a slip with Tor's specifications and leaves us. Tor and I watch the guy prepare the cobalt. Sure enough, he knows his business, because in just over an hour he pours some white powder with a bluish tint into a plastic vial, seals it, and hands it to Tor.
The manager is waiting when we return to the reception area. I almost pass out when he tells Tor it's a hundred and fifty bucks for the little bit we got, but Tor writes a cheque and hands it to him.
"Thanks. I'd about given up hope of getting the purity I wanted."
"Any time. Here's our card and an order form. Most of our orders are by fax or mail, so if we can help you again, let us know."
Once we're back in the SL, Tor hands me the container. "Put it in the glove box. I don't want to lose this."
"Not at that price."
"It's not bad at all. I expected it to be more."
"How?"
Tor shrugs. "I pushed the specs a little. It's better purity than I'd find over the counter anywhere. This way, I won't have to allow for contaminants."
On the edge of the district is an urban renewal project. Not many houses are left; the few remaining defy the force of gravity. Random chunks of concrete from the sidewalk that once was lie in progression among the weeds. We're waiting for the stoplight when we hear screaming and swearing. I look around just in time to see a little kid catapult from one of the houses. His shirt and jeans are rags, he's bloody faced and scruffy. He falls down the last two steps and scrambles up, running toward us. He's near the corner where we are when a huge woman comes waddling out of the house waving a stick and screaming, "Come back here, damn ya! I'll give you what fer."
The kid pauses just long enough to look around, then jumps into the back floor of the SL and pulls a lap robe over himself. "Take me with you, mister. Don't let her hit me again."
When she doesn't see him, she stops and looks around. Seeing us, she staggers over and demands, "You seen a li'l bastard 'round here?"
Fumes of cheap whisky almost smother me, while the rankness of her churns my stomach. She sways back and forth. Before I can answer, Tor snarls, "No! Get out of the way." He starts off so fast she's thrown off balance, hits the ground on her big butt, and swears more.
The kid hasn't moved. I look at Tor, but he doesn't say anything until we're several blocks further on and he's parked on a quiet street. He picks up the robe and refolds it. "Okay, kid, come on out."
The kid gets on the seat looking scared to death. "Don't make me go back," he begs.
"Be still a minute, you're hurt." Tor says quietly.
The cut on his forehead is still bleeding a little and, if anything, he looks worse now than he did when he jumped in the car. Tor's fingers probe around the cut.
"You a doctor?" The kid asks.
"Yeah. Keep quiet and let me think." Tor runs his hand over the rest of the kid's body. He winces when Tor touches his right arm. Tor feels it again. "I don't think it's broken, but it's one hell of a bruise. She hit you there, too?"
The kid nods.
"Come with us. We won't hurt you." Tor looks at me. "You think Doug will mind if we go back to the house for a couple of hours?"
"He won't care. I know where the key is."
"Good. We've gotta do something for this kid. That cut needs attention and if I find anything else wrong, we'll have to take him to the hospital, but he's so scruffy I want to get him cleaned up so I can tell."
Tor bends the speed limits getting to Doug's while I'm praying we don't get stopped by a cop, especially with a beat-up kid in the car.
Once we've got him in a warm bath, I watch Tor go over him from head to toe. His knee is skinned from the fall, but other than the cut and a big knot on his arm, he seems all right. The kid doesn't make a sound while Tor washes his face, then puts a bandage on the cut. He leaves me to give him a scrub while he takes the kid's clothes to put through Doug's washer and dryer.
When I start to bathe him, I can feel the kid's tension. "Relax, we're only trying to help you."
He looks like a kicked dog. "Don't make me go back, mister. Please."
"We're taking a chance as it is. What's your mother going to say?"
"She ain't my mom."
"Who . . . "
"My mom left me there and went away. Please, I don't wanna go back." His lips quiver and there are tears in his eyes.
With the dirt washed off, I can see a few scars on his arms and legs and back. "These come from her beating you?"
He nods.
I stand him up to finish bathing him. He's so skinny his shoulder blades are like wings and every rib shows through. There's a vicious scar on his butt. I touch it. "How'd you get this?"
He sniffles. "She pushed me against the stove."
I can't believe it. My old lady was no angel, but she never did worse than slap me around a little. By comparison, she was a saint. "Why?"
"I busted a dish. I didn't mean to do it." He's crying now.
Though he's dripping wet, I hug him. "Don't cry, it'll be okay." I finish bathing him and wash his hair as best I can without disturbing the bandage. When I've finished and dried him off, I can see that except for being so skinny and scared, he's a handsome kid. His hair is a beautiful light brown, he's got a cute tipped up nose with a light sprinkle of freckles, and large hazel eyes. Though I don't like small children as a rule, this one gets to me. "You want something to eat?"
He nods.
"Okay, I'll fix something while Tor's finishing up your clothes. What's your name?"
"Mikey."
"Okay, Mike. I'm Drew and my brother is Tor."
The dry bath towel I cover him with wraps around his waist twice he's so thin. I take his hand and lead him down to the kitchen. Ted always keeps the fridge well stocked, so I fix him a plate of bacon and eggs, toast and jelly, and get him some milk. He eats as if he hasn't had anything for a week.
When Tor starts up from the cellar, Mike shrinks back at the sound of his steps. "Don't be afraid. It's just Tor."
Tor drops the kid's clothes on a chair and says, "Make me some coffee, baby."
I had switched on the machine when we first came in, so I pour a couple of mugs and put one in front of Tor who's looking at the kid.
"Okay, what now?" I ask him.
He ignores me and continues to look at Mike. "Feel better, kid?"
Mike looks up warily and nods.
"Okay, you finish eating. Drew and I have something to talk over." Tor jerks his head in the direction of Doug's study.
"Did you see what's happened to that kid?" Tor has murder in his voice.
"Yeah. The big scar on his butt came from being pushed against a stove."
"God damn anyone who'd treat a child like that," Tor says prayerfully. "I know we didn't have such a good time of it when we were kids, but at least we each had one person who cared about us. That's more than this kid's had."
"Shouldn't I call Doug? I mean being a judge, he could see the kid's taken care of."
"Don't be in such a hurry." He stares at me until the kid calls.
When we go back in the kitchen, Mike has dressed and washed his plate and the pan I cooked in. He backs into a corner and gives Tor the same wary look as when he jumped in the SL to hide. "What'cha gonna to do with me?"
I thought I'd seen every look Tor could come up with, but as much as he loves me, he's never given me the look he gives Mike. His voice sort of breaks. "I . . . I don't know."
"Don't make me go back."
"Come sit down, kid," Tor says and sits down himself. "What's your name?"
"Mikey."
"You say your mother left you with that woman a long time ago?"
Mike counts back on his fingers. "'Bout five years ago."
Tor raises his eyebrows. "How old are you?"
"Ten."
Tor looks as though he can't believe it, but I can. The kid's been starved.
"Where's your dad?"
"Don't have one."
"He died?"
"I ain't never had one." The kid looks as though he's going to cry again. "She calls me bastard. I asked her how come, and she said kids who don't have papas are bastards."
"Your mother?"
"No. Her."
"The woman you stay with?"
Mike nods.
"You don't want to go back there?"
"No!" Mike yells and jumps up, but Tor gently pushes him back down in the chair.
"It's okay, Mike," Tor says softly and pats him on the shoulder. "Look, we've got a friend who's a judge. He can get you in a nice place for kids who don't have homes. Would you like that?"
Mike looks frightened now. "You mean an orphans home?"
Tor nods.
"I ain't going! I heard 'bout them places."
"What do you want us to do with you, then?"
"I don't care, but I ain't going back to her and I ain't going to no orphans home neither. If you don't want me here, I'll find my own place."
His small jaw firms in stubbornness.
Tor stares at him for a moment, then at me. He says to Mike, "Will you stay here and let us talk things over? We promise not to make you do something you don't want to."
"I guess."
"Okay. Go in there," he points to Doug's study, "and watch TV or something while Drew and I talk."
While Mike's going, I refill our coffee mugs and sit back down.
"What do you think?" Tor asks me.
"I think we ought to call Doug."
Tor frowns. "He can't do any more for this kid than he could you. Sometimes it's better to leave things alone."
"You're not going to take him back?"
"No." He gives me that look again. "How'd you like for us to have a kid of our own?"
Tor is weird sometimes. When I don't answer immediately, he picks up. "Don't be so damn dense. I mean take him home with us."
The impact hits me. "My God! That's kidnapping."
He snorts. "Was it kidnapping when Vince picked you up?"
"No way. You know I was running away from that stinking place."
"Don't you think this kid's trying to do the same thing? Just because he's not as old as you were doesn't mean it's not the same."
"That's just it, he's so young. Jeez, it's bad enough for us now, and if we get caught with a ten year old kid . . . "
"Who's to catch us?"
"Hell, Tor, you know he's got to go to school."
"Hilliard worked it so Vince didn't get in trouble with us."
"We haven't got Hilliard."
"He probably still works where Vince did. If he'll help us we can get the kid's records transferred to him and then to the school in town."
"I don't know." I've got lots of doubts about this scheme Tor's come up with. If we get caught, especially if they find out we're gay, we'll never see the light of day again. "Can't we get Doug to help?"
"Use your head, baby. Doug's an officer of the court. If he tried to help us his ass would be in a sling, too. No matter what he thinks, all he could do is turn Mike over to social services. The less he knows, the better off we all are."
"Oh."
"Look, I know you aren't all that much for small kids but we have to do something. You have anything against him, or not?"
"It's not that. He's a cute little guy."
"Okay, then. I'm going to give Hilliard a call. If he says he can help us with the school business, we're taking the kid with us."
When he puts the kitchen phone down, he's grinning like a cat. "Hilliard can do it. The trick is he once set himself up as a private school. He's certified all to hell and gone. The school didn't work out, so Vince gave him a job, but he's maintained his license. All we've got to do is get the old bag the kid's been staying with to sign an application form for his school and that's it. He told me that if we wanted to play it safe, we'd get her to sign a custody release for the kid, too. It's probably not worth a damn legally, but it'll save us from being accused of kidnapping. You want a kid, baby?"
I guess my expression says it, because he grabs me in a bear-hug. It's then a nasty little thought pushes its way to the surface and I pull away. "Look, we've got to find out what the kid wants. If he wants to come with us, then fine. But you've got to understand that any time he wants out, we bring him back here and let Doug take charge."
"I can go along with that."
"One more thing and this is really important. If the kid goes with us neither of us touches him. He's going to know about us sooner or later, and ..."
"What the hell do you think I am!" Tor looks as if he wants to slug me.
"I mean it, Tor. He's cute, but it's hands off. If he grows up straight, that's it, but neither of us is going to make any attempt to influence him towards being gay. If you don't swear, I'm going to phone Doug right now."
Tor's livid. "You actually think I'd touch him? How can you think I'm a chicken hawk and say you love me?"
"That has nothing to do with it. Besides, you brought me out."
Tor looks like I've clobbered him. "I . . . I didn't mean to, baby. Oh, God! Why'd you have to remind me?"
"It didn't make any difference. I was fairly sure I was gay and I was ready for it, but this kid's a lot younger than I was. We let him choose on his own."
Tor's so crushed, I get up and hug him. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Tor, I love you too much for that. But this isn't just us, it's a kid. Promise me."
"Hell, you know I promise. But the kid needs affection and I'm going to give it to him."
"I am, too. Doesn't look like he's had much of it in his life."
I go to the door and call Mike back to the table. "Mike, Tor and I have talked things over. You have to decide what you want to do, so pay attention. When we're done you can ask us anything you want."
He listens while Tor and I tell him about our work, how we live on a houseboat, and so on. The only awkward moment comes when he asks about us.
Tor tells him again that we're brothers. Mike has enough to consider at the moment without more. After he understands how things are going to be about school and all, he just sits there staring at us without saying anything for so long I begin to get antsy. Finally he says, "What if I don't like it?"
"We'll bring you back here to our friend and let him help you. You don't have to worry about going back where you were living, but you've got to think a lot about it, because if we bring you back here you won't be able to change your mind and come back to us."
He goes to the window and stands looking out for a long time. Tor keeps looking at first the kid and then me. I can't read what's going on in his mind. When Mike at last turns back to us, he comes to me and reaches for my hand. "Can I really go home with you and you'll be my daddy so I won't be no bastard no more?"
If he called anyone dad, I expected it to be Tor, so it's a moment before it sinks in that it's me he's calling daddy. Tears begin to run down my face. I hold out my arms and hug him.
The fragility of the moment has gotten to Tor, too. He wipes his eyes. "That's it, baby." He tells me and goes into Doug's study. A moment later I hear the electric typewriter. In a few minutes he's back with three sheets of paper and holds them out. "It's a receipt for Mike acknowledging that she's given us his custody and that we're to take care of him. There are places for all of us to sign." He grins. "Like I said, it's probably not worth a damn legally, but it puts it all in the open so it isn't kidnapping."
Tor hands Mike the papers and points to a line. "Mike, if you put your name on that line, you're saying that you want to come home with us, instead of going back where you were living, and that you'll obey us just like we're your real parents. Understand?"
He gives Tor a tentative smile and writes his name on all three sheets so fast it's like he's afraid we'll change our minds. Tor signs and then passes the pages to me. Once I've signed, he stands up. "Okay. Let's go."
"Are we going to your house now?" Mike asks.
Tor shakes his head. "We've got to get some papers from a friend and then we have to see the woman you were living . . . "
"No!"
Tor puts a finger under Mike's chin and tips his head enough to look into his eyes. "If you want to go with us, we have to get your things and she's got to sign these papers so you can go to school."
Mike's ready to cry. "She won't let me. She'll hit me again."
"She'll let you go with us and she won't hit you, either. I promise."
Instead of getting in the back, Mike wants to sit on my lap. Small as he is, it's not uncomfortable. My arms around him seem to provide the reassurance he needs. We pick up the school application forms from Hilliard at the plant and chat for a few minutes.
All the way back to where Mike was living I can feel him trembling. The closer we get, the more he snuggles against me. He doesn't want to get out when we reach the house and with him sitting on my lap, I can't get out either. Tor lifts him out. "Come on, Mike. We'll be with you."
Tor bangs on the door with his fist.
The woman looks at him without recognition. "I don' want none." She takes another pull from a bottle of beer and turns away.
Tor bangs on the door again. "I'm not selling anything."
"What'cha want?" Her words are so slurred it's difficult to understand her.
"I want to talk about Mike."
She peers at him nearsightedly. "You fuzz er one of them damn social snoops?"
"Neither. We're both doctors. We want to take Mike with us and give him a decent home."
She looks past Tor to Mike and me, then pushes open the door and holds out her hand. "Aw, Mikey, you don' wanna leave yer poor ol' Auntie Marie, do ya, honey?"
Mike slips behind me and nods.
"What'cha wanna do that fer? I promised yer maw I'd look out fer you real good."
"I suppose beating up on him is good treatment," Tor snaps in a voice so cold I almost shiver.
"I don' beat 'im, just a whack now and agin to keep 'im in line. You know how kids is."
"No, I don't, and I've never seen one that deserved the kind of punishment you've given Mike. He either goes with us, or I'll turn you in for child abuse."
"You ain' got no call to talk like that. I give him a good home. Why don' you go on and leave us be." She reaches for Mike, but when he backs further away her temper pops. "Come 'ere you lil bastard!" She squalls. "You ain't goin' nowhere."
Mike uses his head. There's a scraggly flower of some kind in a pot on the porch railing. He picks it up and throws it as far as he can. When it smashes on the ground, she swings the beer bottle back and tries to hit him with it, but Tor grabs her arm with his fake hand.
"Le'go. That hurts." She yells.
"Drop that bottle," Tor fires back.
She drops the bottle and he lets her go. She rubs her wrist and glares at him. "What'cha wanna do that fer? He needs a good whack. Shit, I wish you would take 'im. He ain't nothing but trouble and his maw ain't sent no money fer a while. I ain't gonna support 'er little bastard. He ain't mine."
"That's what we intend to do," Tor snaps. "Sign these and we'll be happy to go."
"What's it?" She mumbles.
"It's for school."
"Wha' 'bout my flower he busted?"
Tor pulls a twenty out of his pocket. "Buy yourself a dozen." She starts to grab, but he jerks the bill back. "Sign the application and the release. I want the kid to get his things, too."
"Aw righ'." She scowls at me. "Git his mess 'n git out. I'm sick of 'im."
Mike and I slip past her when she staggers out to scrawl her name on the papers. The inside of the house reminds me of the city dump; ashtrays running over everywhere, beer bottles and newspapers all over the floor. There are signs of several small fires that have been stomped out where she's dropped cigarettes in the papers. The smell brings me close to throwing-up.