‘How old are you?’
‘Thirty-three,’ I said, and the next thing you know I was up off that couch like it was hot and heading for the door.
Stern grabbed me. ‘Don’t be foolish. Want me to waste a whole afternoon?’
‘What’s that to me? I’m paying for it.’
‘All right, it’s up to you.’
I went back. ‘I don’t like any part of this,’ I said.
‘Good. We’re getting warm then.’
‘What made me say „Thirty-three”? I ain’t thirty-three. I’m fifteen. And another thing…’
‘Yes?’
‘It’s about that „Baby is three.” It’s me saying it, all right. But when I think about it—it’s not my voice.’