I laughed. He asked me what that was for. I said, ‘You’re not calling me Sonny.’
‘Not you.’ He shook his head slowly. He was watching me while he did it, so his eyes slid in their sockets as his head moved. ‘What is it you want to know about yourself, that made you worried I might tell people?’
‘I want to find out why I killed somebody,’ I said right away.
It didn’t faze him a bit?. ‘Lie down over there.’
I got up. ‘On that couch?’
He nodded.
As I stretched out self-consciously, I said, ‘I feel like I’m in some damn cartoon.’
‘What cartoon?’
‘Guy’s built like a bunch of grapes,’ I said, looking at the ceiling. It was pale grey.
‘What’s the caption?’