Chris and Jerry took time to look at each other. They didn't say anything. Jerry got down to inspect the sliced open seat cushion between Booker's muscular legs and said, "Hmmmmm."

Booker said, "Another one, goes hmmmmm. I'm sitting here on high explosives the motherfucker goes hmmmmm."

Jerry stood up, looking at Chris again.

"Well, he's cool. That's a good thing."

Chris said, "Yeah, he's cool."

As Jerry walked around to the back of the green leather chair, Booker, sitting upright, raised his head.

"Hey, I got to go the toilet, man, bad."

Jerry reached over the backrest to put his hand on Booker's shoulder.

"You better wait. I don't think you can make it."

"I'll tell you what I have to make. I mean it."

Jerry said, over Booker to Chris, "The boy looks fast."

"Used to run from the Narcs in his Pony joggers, one of those Pony Down delivery boys," Chris said.

"Yeah, I imagine he's fast."

Booker was still upright with his head raised.

"Wait now. What're we saying here if I'm fast? Bet to it, man, I'm fast."

Chris said, "We don't want you to get the idea you can dive out of your chair into your little swimming pool and make it."

Booker said, "In the Jacuze? I get in there I be safe?"

"I doubt it," Chris said.

"If what you're sitting on there, if it's wired and it's not one of your friends being funny…"

Jerry said, "Or if it's not a dud."

Booker said, "Yeah, what?"

Chris said, "If it's a practical joke-you know, or some kind of warning-then there's nothing to worry about. But if it's wired, you raise up and it goes…"

"I couldn't get in the Jacuze quick enough, huh?"

"I doubt it."

"His feet might stay on the floor," Jerry said, "remain in the house."

Chris agreed, nodding.

"Yeah, but his ass'd be sailing over Ohio."