Connie said to a couple of boys walking by. The boys went wide around her with a look that said, Nobody gives anything away for free in this city. “Lost the chance of a lifetime,” Connie called after them. “Cut it out,” Jake said. “What?” “I don’t want you to say anything about the dog.” “Who are you to tell me what to say?” “The dog’s not a joke.” “Who says he is?” “You do. You’re always making jokes.” “Well—that’s true, I do joke a lot. I can’t help it.” A loaded dump truck shedding dirt and bricks came slowly up the block. “I thought you loved dogs so much,” he said. He followed the truck, kept it in sight. “You know I’m sorry the dog died, Jake, but dogs are dying all the time.” “Don’t start that again.” “That’s me—I never know when to stop. I know how you feel. I’ll cry about Nelson if he ever dies. But it is sort of funny when you think about it. My father says everything’s got a funny side.” A yellow crane was stretched out along the sidewalk next to a big construction site.
