@@@@@Wireman wasn't masturbatingWireman wasn't
@@@@@Wireman wasn't
masturbatingWireman wasn't sleeping and having a
vivid dreamWireman was having a seizureIt was
quiet, probably petit mal, but it was a seizure,
all right; I'd employed an epileptic draftsman
during the first ten years of The Freemantle
Company's existence, and I knew a seizure when I
saw oneWireman's torso lifted and dropped four
or five inches as his buttocks clenched and
releasedHis hands jittered on his stomachHis
lips were smacking as though he tasted something
327
particularly goodAnd his eyes looked as they had
outside the parking garageBy starlight that oneup,
one-down look was weird beyond my ability to
describeSpittle ran from the left corner of his
mouth; a tear from his welling left eye trickled
into his shaggy sideburn
It went on for perhaps twenty seconds, then ceased
He blinked, and his eyes went back where they
belongedHe was completely quiet for a minuteHe saw me looking at him and said, "I'd
kill for another drink or a peanut butter cup, and
I suppose a drink is out of the question, huh?"
"I guess it is if you want to make sure you hear
her ring in the night," I said, hoping I sounded
casual
"Bridge to Duma Key dead ahead," Jack told us
Wireman sat up and stretched"It's been a hell of
a day, but I won't be sorry to see my bed tonight,
boysI guess I'm getting old, huh?"
x
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Although my leg was stiff, I got out of the van
and stood next to him while he opened the door of
the little iron box beside the gate to reveal a
state-of-the-art security keypad
"Thanks for coming with me, Wireman"But if you thank me again,
muchacho, I'm going to have to punch you in the
mouthSorry, but that's just the way it's gotta
be
"Good to know," I said
He laughed and clapped me on the shoulderYou got style, you got class, you got
the lips to kiss my ass
I could have told him about what had just happened
to hi