to you what she calls her cat?” Coop asked him.
“Can’t get around that hair, can you?” said Whizzer.
“Look,” said Coop, “at least she had most of her clothes on. Girls you see today go around half naked.”
“They do?” Whizzer asked.
“Sure,” said Coop. “And, look: At least she don’t have herself stuck all full of nuts and bolts like so many of them you see.”
“Nuts and bolts?” Whizzer asked.
“Piercing,” said D.B. “I don’t understand that, do you? And that ain’t all. There’s the jewelry. Other day I was at the clinic, getting blood drawn. Little girl works there, that Rowena, takes your blood? She had this thing on, this shirt, showed her belly, and in there she had a diamond, right in her belly button. I mean, she wore it to work.”
“A diamond?” Whizzer asked.
“It’s a fake, Whiz,” said Coop. “It had to be. Nobody wears a real diamond in her belly like that. She’d be afraid she’d lose it.”
“Well, maybe the diamond was a fake,” said D.B., “but her belly button was real, and the diamond was right in there.”
“How does she get it to stay put?” Whizzer asked. “Glue?”
“That’s no glue,” said Coop. “It’s in there like an earring. It’s another piercing. You stick a needle in there, make a hole, like in your ear. Then you hang your diamond on that, it’s on a little ring.”
“I didn’t see no ring on it,” said D.B.
“You didn’t get close enough,” said Coop.
“Close enough to see about everything else she had,” said D.B. “That’s what I’m saying. What happened to the way these little girls dress themselves, you know? What about these kids you see today in school? Piercing? Bellies? Diamonds? I’m talking about girls twelve, thirteen years old. Not even high school. They dress the same way: You’ve got the little thing on top with the straps, you’ve got the bare belly, the tight jeans. That kind of outfit, you used to have to pay money to see. You used to have to pay money and sit in the dark. Now you go into any middle school. What about that?”
“What about it?” asked Conrad.
Whizzer chuckled. “All them bellies,” he said. “Them diamonds, rings. All that skin. This young fellow don’t approve, it looks like. He don’t, really.”
“What about you?” Conrad asked Whizzer. “Do you approve?’
“I do,” said Whizzer. “I am for it.”
“So am I, mostly,” said D.B. “I like to look, much as the next fellow. Have to say, though, it’s different when it’s your kid. Like just this past year? First day of school? Our Amy? Shows up wearing a skirt that you could pretty near see what she’d had for breakfast. Junior high, this is. She’s headed for the bus. ‘Wait just a god damned minute, here,’ I said.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” said Coop.
“I told her there’s no way in hell she’s leaving the house in that outfit,” said D.B.
“Uh-oh,” said Whizzer.
“That’s just what I’m saying,” said Coop.
“Uh-oh, is right,” said D.B. “I mean, she starts crying and wailing and carrying on. All the other kids dress like that. Do I want her to not have friends? And her mom? Her mom takes her part. What’s the big deal? Everybody does it. Do I want our kid to be different? God damned right, I do. Neither one of them spoke to me or even looked at me for a month.”
“But she changed her clothes,” said Coop.
“She did,” said D.B.
“That’s what I’m saying,” said Coop. “Where are these kids’ parents? It ain’t the kids’ fault. They don’t know no better. Nobody expects them to. But where are their parents?”
“If my sister?” said D.B. “If my sister had tried to go to school in an outfit like that when we were kids, my dad would have whipped her, and my mom would have held her down while he did it.”
“Do that today and see what happens,” said Conrad.
“You’ll have Wingate knocking on your door,” said Coop.
“Wingate?” said
“Can’t get around that hair, can you?” said Whizzer.
“Look,” said Coop, “at least she had most of her clothes on. Girls you see today go around half naked.”
“They do?” Whizzer asked.
“Sure,” said Coop. “And, look: At least she don’t have herself stuck all full of nuts and bolts like so many of them you see.”
“Nuts and bolts?” Whizzer asked.
“Piercing,” said D.B. “I don’t understand that, do you? And that ain’t all. There’s the jewelry. Other day I was at the clinic, getting blood drawn. Little girl works there, that Rowena, takes your blood? She had this thing on, this shirt, showed her belly, and in there she had a diamond, right in her belly button. I mean, she wore it to work.”
“A diamond?” Whizzer asked.
“It’s a fake, Whiz,” said Coop. “It had to be. Nobody wears a real diamond in her belly like that. She’d be afraid she’d lose it.”
“Well, maybe the diamond was a fake,” said D.B., “but her belly button was real, and the diamond was right in there.”
“How does she get it to stay put?” Whizzer asked. “Glue?”
“That’s no glue,” said Coop. “It’s in there like an earring. It’s another piercing. You stick a needle in there, make a hole, like in your ear. Then you hang your diamond on that, it’s on a little ring.”
“I didn’t see no ring on it,” said D.B.
“You didn’t get close enough,” said Coop.
“Close enough to see about everything else she had,” said D.B. “That’s what I’m saying. What happened to the way these little girls dress themselves, you know? What about these kids you see today in school? Piercing? Bellies? Diamonds? I’m talking about girls twelve, thirteen years old. Not even high school. They dress the same way: You’ve got the little thing on top with the straps, you’ve got the bare belly, the tight jeans. That kind of outfit, you used to have to pay money to see. You used to have to pay money and sit in the dark. Now you go into any middle school. What about that?”
“What about it?” asked Conrad.
Whizzer chuckled. “All them bellies,” he said. “Them diamonds, rings. All that skin. This young fellow don’t approve, it looks like. He don’t, really.”
“What about you?” Conrad asked Whizzer. “Do you approve?’
“I do,” said Whizzer. “I am for it.”
“So am I, mostly,” said D.B. “I like to look, much as the next fellow. Have to say, though, it’s different when it’s your kid. Like just this past year? First day of school? Our Amy? Shows up wearing a skirt that you could pretty near see what she’d had for breakfast. Junior high, this is. She’s headed for the bus. ‘Wait just a god damned minute, here,’ I said.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” said Coop.
“I told her there’s no way in hell she’s leaving the house in that outfit,” said D.B.
“Uh-oh,” said Whizzer.
“That’s just what I’m saying,” said Coop.
“Uh-oh, is right,” said D.B. “I mean, she starts crying and wailing and carrying on. All the other kids dress like that. Do I want her to not have friends? And her mom? Her mom takes her part. What’s the big deal? Everybody does it. Do I want our kid to be different? God damned right, I do. Neither one of them spoke to me or even looked at me for a month.”
“But she changed her clothes,” said Coop.
“She did,” said D.B.
“That’s what I’m saying,” said Coop. “Where are these kids’ parents? It ain’t the kids’ fault. They don’t know no better. Nobody expects them to. But where are their parents?”
“If my sister?” said D.B. “If my sister had tried to go to school in an outfit like that when we were kids, my dad would have whipped her, and my mom would have held her down while he did it.”
“Do that today and see what happens,” said Conrad.
“You’ll have Wingate knocking on your door,” said Coop.
“Wingate?” said
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