Nobody's Fool

with huge paintings of waterfalls, sad clowns, puppies and Elvis. Now the flat resembled Sully’s. The walls were bare, and about the only things that remained were the Squeers’ ratty sofa and their old console television.
    Rub was sitting on the floor in the front room, motionless, his back against the wall. For a fleeting moment Sully thought he was dead. He had his overcoat on and his work boots, his wool cap pulled down over his ears. Next to him was a jug of Thunderbird wine. He glanced up at Sully, dazed, then went back to studying his own booted feet.
    â€œHello, dumbbell,” Sully said.
    â€œHi,” Rub said, as if it was all he could do to choke out this single syllable.
    Sully cuffed him gently, knocking off his filthy wool cap. “Take your hat off. You’re indoors.”
    Rub picked the cap up off the rug and fingered it. “I wisht we was still friends,” he said.
    â€œWe still are, Rub,” Sully assured him.
    Rub looked up at him again, dubiously.
    â€œYou know what
I
wish?” Sully said.
    â€œWhat?” Rub seemed genuinely curious.
    â€œI wish you’d get up off your ass. We got a lot of work to do, and I can’t do it all by myself.”
    Rub stood unsteadily, kicking over the empty bottle of Thunderbird. “Bootsie got herself arrested.”
    Sully nodded. “So I heard.”
    â€œDid you see her in jail?”
    â€œThey don’t put the men and women in the same place.”
    â€œThey took back all the stuff she stole,” he added, looking around the empty flat.
    â€œNow you got some room to breathe in here,” Sully said, though breathing wasn’t something he’d have recommended. The place still smelled like ten pounds of dead dime-store fish. “Let’s go to work.”
    â€œOkay,” Rub agreed.
    They went outside. “How come you got the Canimo?” Rub said, climbing in.
    â€œCamino, you dope,” Sully corrected him. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”
    Rub thought about this and rephrased the question. “Where’s the truck?”
    â€œPeter’s got it.”
    â€œHe’s still here?” Rub said, clearly disappointed to hear it.
    Sully turned the key in the ignition, then turned it off again. “Hey,” he said.
    Rub studied his knees.
    â€œLook at me,” Sully insisted. “He’s my son. You’re my best friend. That okay with you?”
    Rub nodded, snuffed his nose.
    â€œDon’t cry either,” Sully warned him, intuiting this possibility too late. “You hear me?”
    â€œI won’t,” Rub said, though it was a promise he couldn’t keep.
    Sully watched him, shook his head in disbelief, and sighed. He’d gotten away without apologizing, but this was worse. “I should have stayed in jail,” he said, turning the key in the ignition again. Then he put the radio on to drown out the sound of his best friend’s sniffles.
    Since it hadn’t taken nearly as long to locate Rub as Sully had anticipated, he decided to swing by Silver Street, where Vera and Ralph lived, in case Peter was still there. Apparently he was, because the U-Haul trailer was still in the drive. For some reason, it was unhitched from the ball of Sully’s truck and resting off to the side. The back door to the house, the one that opened into the garage, had been propped open. Since Vera’s car wasn’t in evidence, Sully backed the El Camino next to the curb and turned the ignition off.
    Rub opened the passenger side door and threw up into the gutter, practically the same spot where Sully had upchucked on Thanksgiving. Rub had more to offer. A whole jug of Thunderbird, apparently. When he finished, he said, “I feel better.”
    â€œI bet,” said Sully, who sympathized, though he had declined to watch.
    They were halfway up the drive when Peter backed out the kitchen door holding on to one end of a box spring. “You got a step coming, Pop,” he warned.
    Then Ralph appeared on the other end. “I know it,” he said. “Set it down a minute.”
    They noticed Sully and Rub then, and Ralph looked relieved. “Just lean it up against the door,” he suggested.
    â€œYou know Rub Squeers?” Sully asked.
    â€œI don’t think so,” Ralph said, extending his hand. Rub, who was surprised by Sully’s introduction, missed two full beats before realizing what had