Chapter 11

           InSouthAmerica,LandofEnchantment,wecouldbewadinginariverwheretinyfishwillswimupTyler’surethra. Thefishhavebarbedspinesthatflareoutandbacksooncethey’reupTyler,thefishsetuphousekeepingandgetreadytolaytheireggs. Insomanyways,howwespentSaturdaynightcouldbeworse. 

           "Itcould’vebeenworse,"Tylersays,"whatwedidwithMarla’smother." 

           Isay,shutup. 

           Tylersays,theFrenchgovernmentcould’vetakenustoanundergroundcomplexoutsideofPariswherenotevensurgeonsbutsemiskilledtechnicianswouldrazoroureyelidsoffaspartoftoxicitytestinganaerosoltanningspray. 

           "Thisstuffhappens,"Tylersays. "Readthenewspaper." 

           What’sworseisIknewwhatTylerhadbeenuptowithMarla’smother,butforthefirsttimesinceI’veknownhim,Tylerhadsomeovalplaymoney. Tylerwasmakingrealbucks. Nordstrom’scalledandleftanorderfortwohundredbarsofTyler’sbrownsugarfacialsoapbeforeChristmas. Attwentybucksabar,suggestedretailprice,wehadmoneytogooutonSaturdaynight. Moneytofixtheleakinthegasline. Godancing. Withoutmoneytoworryabout,maybeIcouldquitmyjob. 

           TylercallshimselfthePaperStreetSoapCompany. Peoplearesayingit’sthebestsoapever. 

           "Whatwould’vebeenworse,"Tylersays,"isifyouhadaccidentallyeatenMarla’smother."