Chapter 18

           InthemorningDeeDeedrovemetotheSunsetStripforbreakfast.TheMercedeswasblackandshoneinthesun.Wedrovepastthebillboardsandthenightclubsandthefancyrestaurants.Islouchedlowinmyseat,coughingovermycigarette.Ithought,well,thingshavebeenworse.Asceneortwoflashedthroughmyhead.OnewinterinAtlantaIwasfreezing,itwasmidnight,Ihadnomoney,noplacetosleep,andIwalkedupthestepsofachurchhopingtogetinsideandgetwarm.Thechurchdoorwaslocked.AnothertimeinElPaso,sleepingonaparkbench,Iwasawakenedinthemorningbysomecopsmackingthesolesofmyshoeswithhisclub.Still,IkeptthinkingaboutLydia.Thegoodpartsofourrelationshipfeltlikearatwalkingaroundandgnawingattheinsideofmystomach.

           DeeDeeparkedoutsideafancyeatingplace.Therewasasunpatiowithchairsandtableswherepeoplesateating,talking,anddrinkingcoffee.Wepassedablackmaninboots,jeans,andwithaheavysilverchaincoiledaroundhisneck.Hismotorcyclehelmet,gogglesandgloveswereonthetable.Hewaswithathinblondgirlinapeppermintjumpsuitwhosatsuckingonherlittleringer.Theplacewascrowded.Everybodylookedyoung,scrubbed,bland.Nobodystaredatus.Everybodywastalkingquietly.

           Wewentinsideandapaleslimboywithtinybuttocks,tightsilverpants,an8-inchstuddedbeltandshinygoldblouseseatedus.Hisearswerepiercedandheworetinyblueearrings.Hispencil-thinmustachelookedpurple.

           "DeeDee,"hesaid,"whatishappening?"

           "Breakfast,Donny."

           "Adrink,Donny,"Isaid.

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