Chapter 8

“Okay, just—hold up a second, would you? Geez.” Andy grinned at Scooter. “This is great,” he said. “Really. I’ll just take Trick out for a bit and then I’ll come help you hang that door, okay?”

Scooter nodded. “Lunch first,” he said. “I don’t have what you’d call good employee health coverage, and you don’t need to faint on top of that shiner.”

* * * *

A cheesy-all-the-way turned out to be a cheeseburger topped with a fried egg and served with onion and mustard relish on an extremely soft bun. There was also a bowl of some sort of bean soup. Scooter assured him it was “chili,” but it had no meat that Andy could see. It also had a square of cheese folded into the bottom of the bowl, and more of that onion relish on top. Both the chili and the burger oozed grease like a leaky engine.

Andy hadn’t eaten for at least twenty-four hours, and he had mustered up the bravado to claim to be hard to break, but he really wasn’t sure this was…edible.