Eddie only looked back at him, not scratching now, not moving at all.
A faint breeze blew a Ring Ding wrapper across the parking lot. The scratchy sound of its skittering passage and the wheezy thump of the pizza truck’s loose valves were the only sounds.
Col’s knowing grin began to falter.
“Hop in, Eddie,” Jack said without looking around. “Let’s take a ride.”
“Where?” Eddie asked, knowing.
“Balazar’s.” Jack didn’t look around. He flexed his hands on the wheel once. A large ring, solid gold except for the onyx stone which bulged from it like the eye of a giant insect, glittered on the third finger of his right as he did it. “He wants to know about his goods.”
“I have his goods. They’re safe.”
“Fine. Then nobody has anything to worry about,” Jack Andolini said, and did not look around.
“I think I want to go upstairs first,” Eddie said. “I want to change my clothes, talk to Henry—”
“And get fixed up, don’t forget that,” Col said, and grinned his big yellow-toothed grin. “Except you got nothing to fix with, little chum.”
Dad-a-chum? the gunslinger thought in Eddie’s mind, and both of them shuddered a little.
Col observed the shudder and his smile widened. Oh, here it is after all, that smile said. The good old Junkie Shuffle. Had me worried there for a minute, Eddie. The teeth revealed by the smile’s expansion were not an improvement on those previously seen.
“Why’s that?”
“Mr. Balazar thought it would be better to make sure you guys had a clean place,” Jack said without looking around. He went on observing the world an observer would have believed it impossible for such a man to observe. “In case anyone showed up.”
“People with a Federal search warrant, for instance,” Col said. His face hung and leered. Now Eddie could feel Roland also wanting to drive a fist through the rotted teeth that made that grin so reprehensible, so somehow irredeemable. The unanimity of feeling cheered him up a little. “He sent in a cleaning service to wash the walls and vacuum the carpets and he ain’t going to charge you a red cent for it, Eddie!”
Now you’ll ask what I’ve got, Col’s grin said. Oh yeah, now you’ll ask, Eddie my boy. Because you may not love the candy-man, but you do love the candy, don’t you? And now that you know Balazar’s made sure your own private stash is gone—
A sudden thought, both ugly and frightening, flashed through his mind. If the stash was gone—
“Where’s Henry?” he said suddenly, so harshly that Col drew back, surprised.
Jack Andolini finally turned his head. He did so slowly, as if it was an act he performed only rarely, and at great personal cost. You almost expected to hear old oilless hinges creaking inside the thickness of his neck.
“Safe,” he said, and then turned his head back to its original position again, just as slowly.
Eddie stood beside the pizza truck, fighting the panic trying to rise in his mind and drown coherent thought. Suddenly the need to fix, which he had been holding at bay pretty well, was overpowering. He had to fix. With a fix he could think, get himself under control—
Quit it! Roland roared inside his head, so loud Eddie winced （and Col, mistaking Eddie’s grimace of pain and surprise for another little step in the Junkie Shuffle, began to grin again）。 Quit it! I’ll be all the goddamned control you need!
You don’t understand! He’s my brother! He’s my fucking brother! Balazar’s got my brother!
You speak as if it was a word I’d never heard before. Do you fear for him?