George hadn't worked an honest day in his life since his sixteenth birthday, but the dishonest ones had added up over the years. He practiced his profession once every three or four weeks for a few hours-not counting set-up time- and devoted the rest of his time to eating, sleeping, hanging out with his brother when he was around, and trying, sometimes successfully, to pick up women or girls at Unikle's Tap or the Blue Truck Bar. But what he liked to do most was something that he had picked up in prison. George's passion was painting. He had always liked to draw, but in prison an artist from Chicago named Joplin-guy in denims, hair hanging over his eyes, mess of a beard-had conducted a six-week class in painting. George had taken to it. He was a natural. He could paint what was in his head from the moment he picked up the brush.

Most people thought Steelhead Sewell had given him the name Pitty-Pitty because it was what Steelhead thought it sounded like when George was painting. Trouble was, George was sure Steelhead Sewell did not know he was taking the class or painting.

Joplin the painter had told George that he had talent Years later, when George was exhibiting in an art fair in Lincoln Park, he ran into Joplin, who was showing his own stuff. They talked. Joplin said he had been out of town a few years. His hands shook. Rummy. Joplin's paintings were for shit. Who had he been to tell George Patniks that he was a good painter? George had a better grasp on reality man that.

George looked at his own paintings-cons leaning lonelily against concrete block walls, smoking and looking at nothing, buildings that looked so tired they might tumble over with a pat on the back from a good wind off Lake Michigan, kids playing in the park on the merry-go-round but not looking like they were having fun. George knew he had the eye. But he didn't have the magic. Wasn't there. No avoiding the truth. No use crying. George could paint. He could paint what he saw, but he was never going to be anything but a summer exhibitor looking for a park district ribbon.