"No, I don't want him to see me. Just go talk to him."
"Well . . . Okay." Jodie pried the front door open. "What if he stabs me or something?"
"Look at him. He's almost dead. You could beat the crap out of him with one hand."
"Looks like he has AIDS."
"Go on."
"What if he touches--"
"Go!"
Jodie took a deep breath then stepped outside. "Hey, keep it down," he said to the man. "What the hell you want?"
Stephen watched the Negro look over Jodie with his crazed eyes. "Word up you selling shit, man. I got money. I got sixty bucks. I need pills. Look, I'm sick."
"Whatta you want?"
"Whatchu got, man?"
"Reds, bennies, dexies, yellow jackets, demmies."
"Yeah, demmies're good shit, man. I pay you. Fuck. I got money. I'm hurting inside. Got beat up. Where my money?" He slapped his pockets several times before realizing he was clutching the precious twenties in his left hand.
"But," Jodie said, "you gotta do something for me first."
"Yeah, whatta I gotta do that? You wanna blow job?"
"No," Jodie snapped, horrified. "I want you to help me go through some trash."
"Why I gotta do that shit?"
"Picking some cans."
"Cans?" the man roared, scratching his nose compulsively. "The fuck you need a nickel for? I just give away a hunnerd cans find out where yo' ass be. Fuck cans. I pay you money, man."
"I give you the demmies for free, only you gotta help me get some bottles."
"Free?" The man didn't seem to understand this. "You mean, free like I don't gotta pay?"
"Yeah."
The Negro looked around as if he was trying to find somebody to explain this.
"Wait here," Jodie said.
"Where I gotta look for bottles?"
"Just wait . . . "
"Where?" he demanded.
Jodie stepped back inside. He said to Stephen, "He's gonna do it."
"Good job." Stephen smiled.
Jodie grinned back. He started to turn back to the door but Stephen said, "Hey."