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〃What killed？ Who said anything about killed？〃
〃You'll be surrounded by rare and deadly reptiles。〃
〃They're the best at what they do。 I want to be the best at what I do。〃
〃What do you do？〃
〃I sit in a cage for sixty…seven days。 That's what it takes to break the record。〃
〃Do you understand that you are risking death for a couple of lines in a paperback book？〃
He looked searchingly at Heinrich； obviously holding the boy responsible for this idiotic line of questioning。
〃They will bite you；〃 I went on。
〃They won't bite me。〃
〃How do you know？〃
〃Because I know。〃
〃These are real snakes； Orest。 One bite； that's it。〃
〃One bite if they bite。 But they won't bite。〃
〃They are real。 You are real。 People get bitten all the time。 The venom is deadly。〃
〃People get bitten。 But I won't。〃
I found myself saying； 〃You will； you will。 These snakes don't know you find death inconceivable。 They don't know you're young and strong and you think death applies to everyone but you。 They will bite and you will die。〃
I paused； shamed by the passion of my argument。 I was surprised to see him look at me with a certain interest； a certain grudging respect。 Perhaps the unbeing force of my outburst brought home to him the gravity of his task； filled him with intimations of an unwieldy fate。
'They want to bite； they bite；〃 he said。 〃At least I go right away。 These snakes are the best； the quickest。 A puff adder bites me； I die in seconds。〃
〃What's your hurry？ You're nineteen years old。 You'll find hundreds of ways to die that are better than snakes。〃
What kind of name is Orest？ I studied his features。 He might have been Hispanic； Middle Eastern； Central Asian； a dark…skinned Eastern European； a light…skinned black。 Did he have an accent？ I wasn't sure。 Was he a Samoan； a native North American； a Sephardic Jew？ It was getting hard to know what you couldn't say to people。
He said to me； 〃How many pounds can you bench…press？〃
〃I don't know。 Not very many。〃
〃Did you ever punch somebody in the face？〃
〃Maybe a glancing blow； once； a long time ago。〃
〃I'm looking to punch somebody in the face。 Bare…fisted。 Hard as I can。 To find out what it feels like。〃
Heinrich grinned like a stool pigeon in the movies。 The siren began to sound—two melancholy blasts。 I went inside as the two boys checked the clipboard for house numbers。 Babette was in the kitchen giving Wilder some lunch。
〃He's wearing a reflector vest；〃 I said。
〃It's in case there's haze； he won't get hit by fleeing vehicles。〃
〃I don't think anyone's bothered to flee。 How do you feel？〃
〃Better；〃 she said。
〃So do I。〃
〃I think it's being with Wilder that picks me up。〃
〃I know what you mean。 I always feel good when I'm with Wilder。 Is it because pleasures don't cling to him？ He is selfish without being grasping； selfish in a totally unbounded and natural way。 There's something wonderful about the way he drops one thing； grabs for another。 I get annoyed when the other kids don't fully appreciate special moments or occasions。 They let things slide away that should be kept and savored。 But when Wilder does it； I see the spirit of genius at work。〃
〃That may be true but there's something else about him that gives me a lift。 Something bigger； grander； that I can't quite put my finger on。〃
〃Remind me to ask Murray；〃 I said。
She spooned soup into the child's mouth； creating facial expressions for him to mimic and saying； 〃Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes。〃
〃One thing I have to ask。 Where is the Dylar？〃
〃Forget it； Jack。 Fool's gold or whatever the appropriate term。〃
〃A cruel illusion。 I know。 But I'd like to keep the tablets in a safe place； if only as physical evidence that Dylar exists。 If your left brain should decide to die； I want to be able to sue someone。 There are four tablets left。 Where are they？〃
〃Are you telling me they're not behind the radiator cover？〃
〃That's right。〃
〃I didn't move them； honest。〃
〃Is it possible you threw them away in an angry or depressed moment？ I only want them for the sake of historical accuracy。 Like White House tapes。 They go into the archives。〃
〃You haven't been pretested；〃 she said。 〃Even one pill can be dangerous to ingest。〃
〃I don't want to ingest。〃
〃Yes； you do。〃
〃We are being coaxed out of the ingestion swath。 Where is Mr。 Gray？ I may want to sue him as a matter of principle。〃
〃We made a pact； he and I。〃
〃Tuesdays and Fridays。 The Grayview Motel。〃
〃That's not what I mean。 I promised not to reveal his true identity to anyone。 Considering what you're after； that promise goes double。 It's more for your good than his。 I'm not telling； Jack。 Let's just resume our lives。 Let's tell each other we'll do the best we can。 Yes yes yes yes yes。〃
I drove to the grade school and parked across the street from the main entrance。 Twenty minutes later they came surging out； about three hundred kids； babbling； gleeful； casually amuck。 They called brilliant insults； informed and spacious obscenities； hit each other with bookbags； knit caps。 I sat in the driver's seat scanning the mass of faces； feeling like a dope dealer or pervert。
When I spotted Denise I blew the horn and she came over。 This was the first time I'd ever picked her up at school and she gave me a wary and hard…eyed look as she passed in front of the car— a look that indicated she was in no mood for news of a separation or divorce。 I took the river road home。 She scrutinized my profile。
〃It's about Dylar；〃 I said。 〃The medication has nothing to do with Baba's memory problems。 In fact just the opposite。 She takes Dylar to improve her memory。〃
〃I don't believe you。〃
〃Why not？〃
〃Because you wouldn't e and get me at school just to tell me that。 Because we already found out you can't get it with a prescription。 Because I talked to her doctor and he never heard of it。〃
〃You called him at home？〃
〃At the office。〃
〃Dylar is a little too special for a G。P。〃
〃Is my mother a drug addict？〃
〃You're smarter than that；〃 I said。
〃No； I'm not。〃
〃We'd lik