"What channel?" I said. "What channel was that on?"
He looked at me in surprise.
"Any channel that had one," he said. "I was telling myself how I used to scream for blood when I watched fights on television. Crazy. Who the hell are you?"
I swung a slow-motion left that missed by eight inches. He sent out an uppercut that missed by as much.
"New York," I said. "I wish I was back."
"Me too, pal," he said. "Chicago was never like this."
"Rome was, though," I said, doing fancy footwork and throwing punches at the air. "And one of us is going to be carried out."
"I was looking for yage on South State Street." He weaved and shadow-boxed, not touching me.
"And they gave you uru. The big fix. We're fixed, all right."
"It's the least, Dad," he said. "Believe me."