Chapter 32

“Where’d your bantam rooster get that shiner?”

“You don’t want to know.” I slugged down half my coffee before I sat down.

John perched on the corner of the desk. “You can take the kid off the streets…”

“Yeah. That’s about the size of it. Let’s get this movie edited.”

Neither of us looked up for the next few hours. Deciding what to cut and what to keep is part of the art of movie making, and I like to think I’ve got a talent for the job. John and I weeded through miles of video, looking for those perfect shots. By the time a knock sounded at the door, we’d worked our way through the first quarter of the film.

“Yeah,” I called, only half my attention on the interruption.

J.T. scampered into the room, waving a newspaper page. “I found a place! And it’s close, too. I can walk to work.”

John raised his head. “You moving out already?” I shot him a glare, which he ignored. He clapped the kid on one shoulder. “How many roommates are you going to have?”