His fingernails were immaculate. Jack Wensch stared at them. He had gotten a mani/pedi as a gift, laughed, scoffed really, but did it anyway because it pleased Isabella.
He sat on his steps, the maroon and gold flag of his favorite soccer club fluttering above him, his daughter’s chalk drawings turning the driveway into a maelstrom of purples and greens.
He looked at the fingernails again.
They could remain immaculate because he no longer had to perform manual labor to eat.
Krater’s Kar Wash. A teenager, dope slingers in Benzes tipping him a dollar for a great vacuum.
Deciding to sell dope himself. Getting shot in the ankle and deciding to quit selling dope.
Paolo’s Palazzo. Kneading award-winning pizza dough after it came out of the mixer and watching Paul Tisso go out the back door with a different waitress every night. Punching Paul in the face for making one of ‘em cry.
Chand Axle. Plant Two pinion pack out line. Dancing up and down the hook line, pulling pinions, color coding them, sorting, never making a mistake as they installed the robots that could have been programmed to shove him out the door.
After the plant, three checks away from the State cutting him off, a dating service date, too many drinks, she leaves for the ladies room and he draws a duck on her napkin to make her laugh.
And she looks at it, not laughing, asking Can you make the duck move?
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