“he’sthepolitestdrunkievermet,”isaidtothewhitecoat.

“theycomeallsizesandshapesandallkindsofmanners,”hesaid.“andthey’reallbums.lookslikethisonehadaplasticjobonetime.”

“yeah.”igavehimadollarandhethankedme.hewasrightabouttheplasticjob.therightsideofmynewfriend’sfacewasfrozenandwhitishandseamedwiththinfinescars.theskinhadaglossylookalongthescars.aplasticjobandaprettydrasticone.

“whatchaaimtodowithhim?”

“takehimhomeandsoberhimupenoughtotellmewherehelives.”

thewhitecoatgrinnedatme.“okay,sucker.ifitwasme,i’djustdrophiminthegutterandkeepgoing.themboozehoundsjustmakeamanalotoftroublefornofun.igotaphilosophyaboutthemthings.thewaythecompetitionisnowadaysaguyhastosavehisstrengthtoprotecthisselfintheclinches.”

“icanseeyou’vemadeabigsuccessoutofit,”isaid.helookedpuzzledandthenhestartedtogetmad,butbythattimeiwasinthecarandmoving.

hewaspartlyrightofcourse.terrylennoxmademeplentyoftrouble.butafterallthat’smylineofwork.

iwaslivingthatyearinahouseonyuccaavenueinthelaurelcanyondistrict.itwasasmallhillsidehouseonadead-endstreetwithalongflightofredwoodstepstothefrontdoorandagroveofeucalyptustreesacrosstheway.itwasfurnished,anditbelongedtoawomanwhohadgonetoidahotolivewithherwidoweddaughterforawhile.therentwaslow,partlybecausetheownerwantedtobeabletocomebackonshortnotice,andpartlybecauseofthesteps.shewasgettingtoooldtofacethemeverytimeshecamehome.

igotthedrunkupthemsomehow.hewaseagertohelpbuthislegswererubberandhekeptfallingasleepinthemiddleofanapologeticsentence.igotthedoorunlockedanddraggedhiminsideandspreadhimonthelongcouch,threwarugoverhimandlethimgobacktosleep.hesnoredlikeagrampusforanhour.thenhecameawakeallofasuddenandwantedtogotothebathroom.whenhecamebackhelookedatmepeeringly,squintinghiseyes,andwantedtoknowwherethehellhewas.itoldhim.hesaidhisnamewasterrylennoxandthathelivedinanapartmentinwestwoodandnoonewaswaitingupforhim.hisvoicewasclearandunslurred.

hesaidhecouldhandleacupofblackcoffee.whenibroughtithesippeditcarefullyholdingthesaucercloseunderthecup.

“howcomei’mhere?”heasked,lookingaround.

“yousquiffedoutatthedancersinarolls.yourgirlfriendditchedyou.”

“quite,”hesaid.“nodoubtshewasentirelyjustified.”

“youenglish?”

“i’velivedthere.iwasn’tbornthere.ifimightcallataxi,i’lltakemyselfoff.”

“you’vegotonewaiting.”

hemadethestepsonhisowngoingdown.hedidn’tsaymuchonthewaytowestwood,exceptthatitwasverykindofmeandhewassorrytobesuchanuisance.hehadprobablysaiditsooftenandtosomanypeoplethatitwasautomatic.

hisapartmentwassmallandstuffyandimpersonal.hemighthavemovedinthatafternoon.onacoffeetableinfrontofahardgreendavenporttherewasahalfemptyscotchbottleandmeltediceinabowlandthreeemptyfizzwaterbottlesandtwoglassesandaglassashtrayloadedwithstubswithandwithoutlipstick.therewasn’taphotographorapersonalarticleofanykindintheplace.itmighthavebeenahotelroomrentedforameetingorafarewell,forafewdrinksandatalk,forarollinthehay.itdidn’tlooklikeaplacewhereanyonelived.

heofferedmeadrink.isaidnothanks.ididn’tsitdown.whenilefthethankedmesomemore,butnotasifihadclimbedamountainforhim,norasifitwasnothingatall.hewasalittleshakyandalittleshybutpoliteashell.hestoodintheopendooruntiltheautomaticelevatorcameupandigotintoit.whateverhedidn’thavehehadmanners.

hehadn’tmentionedthegirlagain.also,hehadn’tmentionedthathehadnojobandnoprospectsandthatalmosthislastdollarhadgoneintopayingthecheckatthedancersforabitofhighclassfluffthatcouldn’tstickaroundlongenoughtomakesurehedidn’tgettossedinthesneezerbysomeprowlcarboys,orrolledbyatoughhackieanddumpedoutinavacantlot,

onthewaydownintheelevatorihadanimpulsetogobackupandtakethescotchbottleawayfromhim.butitwasn’tanyofmybusinessanditneverdoesanygoodanyway.theyalwaysfindawaytogetitiftheyhavetohaveit.

idrovehomechewingmylip.i’msupposedtobetoughbuttherewassomethingabouttheguythatgotme.ididn’tknowwhatitwasunlessitwasthewhitehairandthescarredfaceandtheclearvoiceandthepoliteness.maybethatwasenough.therewasnoreasonwhyishouldeverseehimagain.hewasjustalostdog,likethegirlsaid.