Chapter 1

“Arthur.”

“Yes Alex.”

“I’m hungry.”

“I’m hungry too Alex.”

“I want food.”

“How much money do we have?”

“We have $2.76.”

“I have 52 cents.  That’s enough for two hot dogs.”

“I’m sick of hot dogs.  I don’t want a hot dog.”

“What do you want to eat Alex?”

“I want duck.”

Arthur laughed. “You want duck? Okay good.  Here take this 52 cents.  Go to a butcher shop and see how much duck $3.28 will buy you.”  He continued giggling.

“No. I want that duck.”

Arthur saw Alex motion his head forward and he had to get up from where he was lying down to look at what Alex was looking at.

“That duck, in the pond.  I want that duck.”

“Which one?”

“The tall one, with the brown neck.”

“Why that one?”

“It’s bigger than the other ones. More meat.”

“You want that duck, go get it.” Arthur laughed again.

“We’re gonna eat duck.”

“You’re gonna get a duck? How you gonna cook a duck? Wait a minute, forget that. How you gonna clean it. You gotta take its feathers off, it’s got skin, beak…everything.  F**k you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna eat that duck.”

“How you gonna kill it? We got a knife.” Arthur was giggling as he spoke. “What you gonna do? Stab it? How you gonna get close enough to stab a f*****g duck.” Now Arthur was in a full laugh.  He pulled the knife out of his knapsack and extended the blade out to Arthur.  “Here you go, go stab the f*****g duck. Hahahahaha.”

 

Alex took the knife and sat down hunched over it with a long, straight narrow stick he had found.  Arthur put his head back down and pulled his hood over his eyes. “Go stab the f*****g duck.” He mumbled to himself as he giggled and tried to go to sleep.  Alex took great pains to fasten and tighten the knife onto the stick with some twine he had found earlier that day.  He tied it, untied it and retied it eight times until he was finally satisfied that it made one sturdy piece.

 

He took his newly fashioned spear up in his right hand, palm facing up, thumb on the inside, spear above his right shoulder.  He started inching toward the pond slowly.  He pulled his hat on tight, to darken him further in the night.  He walked toward the pond and came within three feet of the waters edge.  The duck was about 15 feet from the edge and was facing away from Alex.  Alex looked intently toward the duck, an animal instinct burning inside his nostrils.  He focused his thoughts at the ducks broadside, gathered his energy, pulled back his spear and thrust it into the night air with a great heave.  His arm went flying forward and his right foot came forward landing with a great thud on the grass before him.  The spear cut through the night in the direction of the duck.  It flew several feet over the ducks head and landed in the black water, with a gurgling splash.  The duck did not even fly off, it gave a slight flutter of its wings at the swish above its head and the subsequent splash, but continued on about its way.  Apparently Alex lacked the natural skill to kill and the duck lacked the natural instinct to fear such an inept killer. Angry at his failure Alex looked around for rocks.  He found a few on the ground and began hurling them at the duck.  Now the ducks, apparently having decided that this series of successive splashes was a serious threat, decided to fly away.

 

Alex returned to his hovel, a complete failure"again.  He smashed his hunger down into the bottom of his stomach, pulled his hood over his hat, crossed his arms tightly, rolled over and went to sleep.

 

“So what’s it gonna be for breakfast Chef Boyardee, Pheasant under glass?”

“I’m gonna kill a duck today.”

“Oh give up, come on let’s go to the supermarket dumpster. We’ll find some canned beans or something. Give me the knife.”

“I lost the knife. It’s in the bottom of the pond.”

“You lost the knife? You idiot! What did you do? Swim out there and try to stab it?”

“I made a spear and chucked it at the duck. I missed.”

“You made a spear? From our knife? And now its at the bottom of the pond?” They both paused for a long time. “Come on, let’s go to Food Mart.”

 

As they walked out of the park neither of them could bring themselves to contemplate the depths to which they had now sunk. They passed a store window and Alex, seeing himself in the reflection noted on how normal they still looked.  They could pass for regular people. They don't look homeless. This brought another thought into his mind. ‘If we don’t look homeless yet, we can still do things homeless people can’t do.’ He thought to himself. ‘We can get into buildings. We can try to steal things. We can get jobs.’ “We’ll have to move before it’s too late.” He said aloud to Arthur.

“Yeah, we will,” came the reply.  “At 7:00 a.m. the trash truck will be by and there’ll be nothing left.” Arthur continued walking and began talking aloud “You fashioned our only tool into a spear, threw it at a duck and lost it in the bottom of the pond.”  He turned to Alex and asked, “Did you per chance make any target throws? Did you try throwing it at a tree a few times to get your aim down? Did you make a back up spear, to throw after the first one?” He was peering at Alex who was walking alongside him now, looking down. “Did you think to use the knife to sharpen wood into a spear?”

 

“I thought of that too…afterward.  That’s what I should have done.  Then I could have made a few spears and I would have had more of a chance to kill it.”

“We got a regular Crocodile Hunter over here.” Arthur said to no one in particular.

“Look, we’ll go get food for today, but tonight, after its dark, I’m going to kill a duck and we’re going to eat it tomorrow.”

 

“Won’t it be hard in the dark?” Arthur asked.

“I guess, but we can’t very well go duck hunting in Central Park in broad daylight, can we?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“We have to find another knife.”

They already knew the plan.  First Arthur walked down into the alley and Alex stood at the corner of the Food Mart.  Then as Arthur disappeared behind the store and Alex was sure that no one was watching, no one was suspicious, he headed down the alley as well.  Arthur was always better than Alex at not looking over his shoulder so much.  Alex looked suspicious, but Arthur was generally calm about these sorts of things. As Arthur climbed up on top of the 28 foot dumpster Alex stood near the backdoor, where they brought the trash out, with an unlit cigarette in his hand.

 

“Hurry up.” Alex said.

“Just shut up and do your job.” Came the reply from within the dumpster.

Alex stood there for some time while Arthur swam through the piles of cardboard, Styrofoam, broken eggs, bloody meat, receipt rolls, torn bags of diapers, smashed milk cartons, bathroom trash bags and wadded paper towels. He was in search of unbroken cans and salvageable produce.  He filled his bag with goods.

 

The backdoor flew open and someone was coming out with a couple of boxes of unlabeled cans.  The kid looked about seventeen and he was struggling under the weight of the boxes.  “What are you doin’ back here?” He said to Alex. Arthur heard the boys voice and stopped moving.

 

“Here let me help you with those.” Alex said loudly and grabbed the top box, putting it down on the ground. “I was just cutting through the alley. Smoke?” Alex asked, gesturing toward the boy with his white shirt and black apron on.

“I don’t have time, I need to put all that cardboard up in the dumpster and get back in,” the boy said motioning toward a pile of cardboard next to the dumpster.

“Here, have a cigarette.” Alex lit the one in his hand and gave it to the boy. “I’ll throw that stuff away for ya.”

“Why would you do that for me?”

“I remember being your age and having a s**t job. I bet your boss is a dick too huh?”

The boy was suspicious but he puffed the cigarette and with smoke coming out of his mouth and nostrils he said “Yeah. He is.”

Alex and the boy stood there talking about nothing and smoking the cigarette together.  After a while the boy asked “Are you sure you’ll do it? Cause I’ll get in trouble if you don’t”

 

“I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Go.”

“You gotta throw these in there too.” He said motioning toward the boxes with the cans.

“Don’t worry. I got it covered.”

“Thanks man. Okay, bye.”

 

Arthur came out with a few cans and a couple of mangos. When Alex showed him the two boxes he had scored, they both grinned in celebration.  They hurried to throw the cardboard into the dumpster.

 

Walking out the back of the alley with their booty in hand Alex observed “This s**t is heavy. How are we going to get it all the way back to the Hovel?”

“The Hovel? We’re calling it the Hovel now?”

“Remember how when we were kids we would make fun of each other and say things like, ‘You’ll never succeed at anything. You’re going to end up living in a Hovel.’ Remember how we used to say that to each other?”

Arthur grunted.

“Well now we’re both living in a f*****g hovel for real.”

Arthur said, “Wait here with the stuff.  I’ll go find us something.  And don’t let anyone take it.”

“And try to find us something to open the cans with too.” Alex said.

Arthur gave him a dirty look and as he walked off he mumbled to himself “F*****g spear at the bottom of the pond.”

 

Thirty-five minutes later Arthur was back, with a shopping cart. “We’re behind a supermarket and it took you half an hour to get a shopping cart?”

“All the ones here have that damned locking system.  You can’t leave the parking lot with them. I walked down to the Puerto Rican market. This is from there.”

“Well did you at least find an opener?”

“You find a f*****g opener! You’re the one who lost the other one in the first place.”

 

They were almost home, back to their hovel, wheeling their catch down Central Park West.  Alex who had been scanning the ground the entire way for some object which he could use to crack a can open looked up at the smell of a hot dog stand and realized that they were passing the Natural History Museum. He saw two immense, royal blue banners, one hanging down either side of the grand, high-arching entrance to the majestic edifice.  They bore a message: ‘Explore your past. Know your Future.’ ‘My past is a failure and my future is bleak’ he thought to himself.

“See anything yet?” Arthur asked.

“No.”

“Me neither.”

They wheeled the cart back to the Hovel and hid the food as best they could. “I’m gonna go find a sharp rock or something,” said Arthur.

“I’ll go look for something too. You know what, maybe we can go buy a knife or a can opener at the 99 cent store.”

“It’s too far to go today.  We’ll go tomorrow.”
“Okay I’ll go this way.”

“No. You stay here and guard the food.  Worst comes to worst I’ll get us a rock.”

“Well be sure to get a flat one too so we can put the can on top of it and hit it with the sharp one.”

“Okay, just stay inside and be inconspicuous. You don’t want to attract attention with all that stuff in there.”

 

Arthur walked off saying to himself, “I should make him swim to the bottom of the pond and get the knife.” He giggled, “I can’t really blame him though. He was just trying to get better food for us. I wonder how we could kill that duck.”

 

An hour later Alex heard Arthur’s footfalls coming.  They had learned each other’s sounds by now.  All they did was walk.  “Look.” Arthur produced a two foot piece of metal from his pant leg.  It had holes at regular intervals and was pointed at one end. “I pulled a construction sign out of the ground when the workers weren’t looking. I nearly tore my fingers trying to unscrew the bolts holding the sign to the stem.  Look the bottom is pointed. Maybe we can sharpen it.”

“Excellent.  This is going to be very helpful.” Arthur sat down to relax and handed the shank to Alex.  “Well I know these four are fruit compote. We can eat these now and open some of these other ones tonight when we can cook.”

“That’s not all I found.  I got this net. Look, its fairly large.” From his other pant leg he produced a large nylon twine net. “It must be some sort of shipping or packing material.

“I guess it could come in handy.” Alex said looking puzzled until, “Oooh,” he came to the realization, “you mean to hunt with.  Yes that’s good. Perhaps we can catch the duck with it.”  They both grinned.

 

Alex placed the fruit compote can in front of him and kneeled down with the shank in both hands.  He raised the shank up high over his head and brought it down hard piercing the can with juice running out all over.  He quickly picked up the can and began to drink the juice that was running out.  When all the juice had done dripping into his mouth he lay it on its side and twisted the shank to where it tore the side of the can open.  He placed it down with the fruit still in it.  He reached back, grabbed another can and said to Arthur “This one’s yours. As soon as I stab it, take it and start drinking it.” He raised the shank up again and brought it crashing down into the top of the can.  Arthur snatched up the can and drank the juice.  Alex used his hands to eat the fruit from his can. Arthur tore his can open too and followed suit.

 

They slept awaiting the night, the real night. That is, the time of night where even most New Yorkers are asleep. Arthur looked down at the tattered digital Casio on his wrist and saw that it was 2:00 a.m. He thought of how his wrist was once proudly adorned by an Omega Seamaster.  It was gone now. Sold, in the final death throws of a failing business.

 

He nudged Alex “get up,” who didn’t need any further coaxing.  He was up and ready.

 

“Okay, so first we’ll have to see where he is in the pond and then we’ll devise our strategy,” Alex said, grabbing the net and heading out of the Hovel. “Bring the metal,” he said with a backward glance.

 

They slowly approached the pond and sat behind a bush.  Arthur sat down on some dry leaves and gave the ducks a start. An angry look from Alex was superfluous, Arthur was already angry at himself for having been careless.  Luckily the ducks ignored the late night disturbance and remained where they were.

 

“I don’t see the big one from last night.”

“You’re that good at telling them apart, are you?”

“Whatever. We need to pick one. I remember seeing one of those nature shows and it talked about how the cheetah or lion or whatever picks one animal and stays focused on it and even if other animals come near while it is chasing that animal it doesn’t stray from its focus and that is the key to its success.”

“That’s the key to its success? Not the fact that it has 4-inch long razor sharp claws and teeth and can run 50 miles per hour?”

Alex ignored the sarcasm, “Which one do you figure we should pick?”
“Well, animals usually pick a weak one right? Like a young one or an injured one.”
“Yes. Yes. That’s right,” Alex said excitedly.

“Do any of them look weak to you?”

They scanned the pond intently and Alex came to a realization. “I think we need to pick the one closest to the shore.”

“Oh yeah. You’re right…okay, there’s one he’s about 8 feet from the shore.”

“You willing to get a little wet?”

“No! I’ll freeze to death. What do you have in mind?”

“Okay, then I’ll get wet. But that means you have to climb the tree.”

“Huh?”

“You see how the branches of that tree are hanging over the pond?” Alex asked. “Well that one branch in the middle is large, it’s large enough to support your weight, the trick is you’ll have to move the small branches out of the way so the net doesn’t get snagged. And you’ll have to be quiet doing it all.  You drop the net on that duck and I jump into the water feet first, run at it and try to grab it and stab it with the shank.”

“Do you know how deep the water is?”

“No, but it’s a park pond. It can’t be too deep.  I’m sure it’s no deeper than my shoulders.”

“The hard part is going to be getting up that tree silently.”

“Exactly. You want to jump in the water?”
“No, I’m better at doing this silent stuff than you are anyway,” Arthur replied.  “Do we still have that shoeshine kit you found in on 68^th?”

“Yes. It’s in the Hovel.”

“Go bring it. We’ll darken our faces. So they can’t see us.”
“With shoe shine? That stuff’s toxic. Can’t we just use mud?” They looked around for a wet patch of dirt and found one next to a sprinkler head. Quietly they put their fingers down into it and began smearing the mud on their faces, covering their foreheads, their cheeks, their nose and chins, their eyelids, even their ears and necks.

“Listen,” Arthur said as he turned to depart for the base of the tree, “don’t throw that shank, it’s not sharp or heavy enough to pierce that bird.” Alex nodded in agreement.

 

Arthur approached the rough barked trunk of the tree and began to climb as stealthily as he could. In the meanwhile Alex inched toward the edge of the pond.  He moved slowly.  He moved more slowly than he had ever moved in his life. He recalled The Tell Tale Heart and the great sloth with which the killer had poked his head into his victim’s room.  He tried to mimic that but felt that perhaps no human could move as slowly as the character in that story. He did, however, move so slowly that he arrived to water’s edge without being taken any serious note of by the ducks. As he squatted there in the muddy grass at the shore of the pond, he felt Arthur overhead moving branches out of his way, slowly so as not to startle the ducks.  Alex looked up and saw tiny leaves come lose from the tree and waft down to the water. He cringed and prayed that the leaves would not disturb the ducks.  They were tiny and were wafted off by a slight breeze and landed behind the ducks. They hardly made a ripple when they touched the water.

 

Arthur was ready.  He looked down at Alex. Alex could barely see his face. And wasn’t sure if he was looking at Arthur’s face or his shoulder. Then he saw Arthur nod and he readied himself.  Hanging precariously with his legs wrapped around a great branch and his abdomen suspended by a smaller yet sturdy branch Arthur’s torso hung down out of the tree and he used his right arm to keep a number of small annoying branches out of the way.  With his left arm he hung the net down. At that very moment, trying hard not to lose focus, he thought of the fact that in the movies nets are weighted down in the corners. It was too late for that. He swung the net back and forth until it was nearly parallel to the surface of the water and let it drop.

 

Alex watched the net slowly waft through the air and land upon the duck who immediately began to struggle against it. Alex jumped hard and long into the water with a great splash which sent all the other ducks flying and all the squirrels scurrying. He ran toward the net with his left hand reaching forward to grab the duck and his right hand wielding the long shank. The duck was trying to swim under the net but the net had submerged a few inches and befuddled the duck’s attempts. As Alex bounded forward water splashed upon his face rubbing mud in his eye. Blinking furiously Alex reached out and grabbed at the duck but only got a hold of the net, which pulled out of the water just enough for the duck to swim under it. He flailed at the duck with his shank and hit it in the butt sending himself face first into the water.  He came up quickly and used his left hand to wipe the mud from his eyes.  By the time he looked around to find the duck, it had gone. He was left heaving in the water with the deafening sound of his own breathing and the splashing and waving of the disturbed pond.  He smelled something strange.  Something he had not smelled heretofore this night.  He pulled the shank to his nose and smelled the metallic rusty smell of metal. He examined the shank and realized that it was the blood of the duck he was smelling.

 

“Don’t forget the net.” Arthur whispered from the tree.

The sight of this man, which no one but the squirrels were around to see, was that of an old gladiator. Trident in one hand, net in the other, he emerged from the water, black and dripping. Not even Arthur saw this, as he was negotiating his way out of the tree. They convened at the base of the trunk. “Which way did he go? Did you see him?” asked Alex.”

 

“He went that way,” said Arthur pointing.

“Did he fly?”

“Yeah he flew.”

“How did his flight look? Did it look normal or did it look awkward.”

“How the hell should I know what a duck’s flight pattern looks like.”

“I stabbed it, see.” Alex held up the shank and showed Arthur the smell of the duck’s blood.

“It might be out there somewhere. Injured. Come.”

“No, no, no.  You can’t go out looking for the duck like that.  You’ll catch a cold. You’ll get pneumonia. You go back to the Hovel and light a fire in the trashcan out back.  Take off those wet clothes and set them out to dry.  Wear that overcoat we have and warm yourself by the fire. I’ll try to track the duck.” For the first time Alex realized that he was very, very cold. Being so cold he quite liked Arthur’s plan.  He handed Arthur the net and the shank and they split up.

 

Walking in the dark, dressed all in black in Central Park at 2:30 a.m. Arthur thought it best to hide his implements.  He put the net in his pocket and held the shank under his coat. He walked for sometime, looking around for any sign of a duck"an injured duck. After about fifteen minutes of intent and hopeful searching he came to a crashing halt and thought to himself, ‘How the hell am I supposed to find a duck, in the night, in a park, without lights, with no prior experience in tracking. It’s a bird. Bird’s can fly. It could have gone in any direction. I have no idea where this thing is.” He decided it was hopeless, but new that Alex would have been upset if he returned so soon empty-handed. So he pushed on. He walked in areas he was all too familiar with. He needed no light to walk here.  The air was crisp, cold and nearly motionless. He could smell the park, it smelled good. He tried to pick up a hint of duck or blood, but could detect nothing. Walking past an embankment of a small hill he thought he heard something, but a closer examination of the bushes revealed nothing. Arthur decided to turn and head home.

 

In the quiet of the bushes, an injured duck held completely still when it heard footfalls. It was motionless. It heard some movement in the bush and it made no attempt to flee. It had chosen this place under this bush, to hide and recuperate hoping no other animals would molest it tonight.  The noise in the bush finally subsided and the animal moved away. It decided that this spot had been burned and that it had better move on.

 

“I didn’t find it. Are you warm?” Alex nodded yes, and they huddled around the fire.

 

In the morning, as they made their way out and decided what to do that day Alex said, “I just, I just want to stay in the sun today or be inside, somewhere warm. But let’s walk through the park and see if we can spot the duck anywhere.”

“Agreed,” said Arthur.

 

They made out in the same direction Arthur had walked the previous night.  By the light of day Arthur decided to study the embankment again. Alex was over near another set of bushes.

“God damnit man!,” Alex heard Arthur yell.

“What is it?”

“Here! Look here. I was here last night. I had a feeling the duck was here but I couldn’t see a damn thing so I gave up.” Arthur was pointing to two feathers pasted together by dried blood, and lodged between blades of grass growing behind the bush.

“Well it might still be here, dead. Take a good look everywhere.”

 

Doing their best to be inconspicuous the two gave the embankment, the bushes and the surrounding trees a thorough examination but to no avail. Unbeknownst to them, the duck, bleeding slowly from its hind parts, had flown away, trying to rejoin its flock, but had tired and landed at 51^st and Madison in a nook behind one of the great grey spires of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. In the shadows of those two great towers it died later that morning.

 

After he was sure that the duck was not there, Alex said “Let’s get out of the park. I’m cold.” They began walking toward 5^th Avenue and discussing what they would do that day.

 

“We may have spent too much on this duck,” said Arthur.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we’ve significantly dirtied one set of clothes each and our skin and fingernails are very dirty.  We’re starting to look homeless.”

“I thought of that,” responded Alex, “I was thinking, last night while you were looking for the duck that perhaps we could shower at Hunter College. Remember the girl who used to flirt with me on Tuesdays at the gym? Let’s go there and if she’s there I’ll flirt my way into the gym. Once I’m in, I’ll sneak you in or perhaps I can get us both in.”

“I’m worried about the food.”

“What food?”

“All the cans back at the Hovel"someone might steal them.”
“What am I talking about, what are you talking about?”
“I know. A shower. But I’m worried about the food.”

“Well, you either need to stop worrying or one of us has to always stay at the Hovel.”

“We need to guard it better. Set up a trap or something.” 

“Think about it while we walk,” Alex said with his head up surveying the length of 68 ^th St. Arthur followed behind looking at the sidewalk, thinking of how they could better guard their belongings.

 

When they had left the Hovel that morning Arthur had asked “Should I bring the shank?”

“The last thing we need is to get arrested for carrying a long sharp piece of metal,” was Alex’s reply. ‘How could they guard the Hovel’ Arthur continued to ask himself as they walked down 68^th St. to Hunter College.

 

“Hi Stacey.”

“Oh! Hi Alex!” came the excited reply. “We haven’t seen you here for a while. How have you been?”
“Oh you know, the usual.”

“How’s the business going?”

“Things are rough, but we’re working on some new deals and making some serious hands-on modifications.”

“I can see that, look at your fingers.” Alex kind of laughed and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“What have you been up to?” He asked her.

“Same old stuff. I went to this great club with some girlfriends Saturday night. I think we’re going to go back this weekend. You should meet us up over there. Bring your friend, Arthur.”

“Hey, that sounds like a good idea. If we’re not working we’ll definitely make it this Saturday.”

“Wow, how late do you guys work?”

“Well, there’s stuff with the warehouses that needs to be done late at night on the weekends when the shipments come in, so I never really know. We were working till about 3:00 a.m. this Saturday.”

“Oh boy.”

“Yeah, actually we were just able to steal some time away and we were hoping we could use the gym. Arthur’s outside,” Alex said gesturing toward the doors.

“Hmm…let me see what I can do.” Stacey checked the schedule. “Okay, come back in 15 minutes. My boss goes to lunch in ten.”

“Cool. You’re the best, Stacey.”

“Oh hey, and while you’re out there grab me a strawberry smoothie from that coffee stand will ya?”

“Anything for you,” Alex said and walked out.

 

“How the hell are we going to buy her a smoothie? We don’t even have enough money to buy toilet paper,” Arthur exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, I got this one.” Alex walked toward a planter on the side of the building and picked a few begonias out of it. “Go get a paper bag and a straw or something from the coffee stand.” Arthur figuring out what Alex meant to do went over and came back with the paper bag. “Has it been fifteen minutes?” Alex asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

 

“Hey sweetie, I’m really sorry but Arthur and I don’t have any cash on us, and the guy wouldn’t take credit cards. I got you this though,” Alex said with his confident smile.

“Oooh these are so nice. Thank you,” Stacey smiled. “But I always use a credit card at the coffee stand.”

“Oh sure,” Alex stumbled. “He takes credit cards, he just said that his machine was on the fritz or something.”

“Don’t worry sweetie, I’m gonna put these flowers right here. Okay, here’s a day pass for each of you.”

“You’re the best Stacey.”

 

Using a clean shower and a clean bathroom was heavenly.  They each reveled in the hot water and the clean toilets. Arthur used cotton swabs to clean out his ears and Alex dried his hair with a blow drier.  They used every personal care product available: soap, shampoo, cologne, lotion, hair gel, everything. Arthur even used the baby powder as a deodorant under his arms and in his shoes. Alex saw him and followed suit.  They put toothpaste on their fingers and brushed their teeth.

“I haven’t taken a relaxed s**t like that in weeks.”

“Me neither.”

 

Fresh, dressed, like a million bucks they walked out of the place, thinking about ducks.

 

“I’ll call you, Stacey. I might be back this week though.”

“Alright Alex. Bye Arthur.” They waved.

 

“Well, we shouldn’t hunt again tonight. All this being clean and everything will go to waste.”

“Agreed.”

“Let’s go try to get some money today.”

 

 

“This thing’s gonna set fire to the Hovel,” said Alex.

“It’s not going to set fire to the Hovel. We have to be careful. It’s getting cold. I’m freezing in there.”

They were walking down Central Park West with a brand new space heater in a box that they were able to snatch from a delivery truck at a pharmacy.

 

“You distract the driver, and I’ll grab us some stuff.” Arthur had said to Alex. At which point, Alex pulled out his trusty cigarette and walked over to the driver.

“Hey buddy, you got a light?”

“Sure thing, it’s in the cabin. Hold on.”

“You in a rush? Have one with me.” Alex extended a cigarette to the driver.

“I am in kind of a rush but I’ve only had two all morning.” The driver took the cigarette and they lit up there next to the cabin of the truck. He wasn’t new, though, to truck driving and he new to be vigilant. So as they smoked he sauntered back to the back of the truck, trying not to look like he was suspicious.

As they walked back Alex asked him loudly “So you drive local or cross-country?”

Arthur was in the back of the truck trying to identify what they needed most.  Mostly he could just see some useless crap: foot massagers, makeup kits, curling irons.  There was no medication that was readily useful. He was hoping to find some rubbing alcohol or maybe a first aid kid, but saw none such.

“You know I mostly drive locally, New York, Boston, Philadelphia. I used to do the cross-country thing, but this is much better.  You spend too much time away from your family doing the cross-country thing.  But this is like a regular job,” said the driver as he turned around the back end of the truck to peer into the cargo hold. “How about you? What do you do?”

“I work at a shoe store"ladies shoes. You know, it’s just a s**t job to pay the bills,” Alex was hoping that Arthur had gotten out and that he wasn’t in there hiding behind boxes. He wondered how he would know; how he could extricate himself at this point.

“I hear you man. You gotta do whatever it takes to put food on the table.”

“I knew you’d understand.”

Alex heard a familiar voice. “Okay mother, they didn’t have what you wanted. Let’s try somewhere else.” It was Arthur; his voice came from outside of the truck.

“Well. It was good talking to you buddy. I better let you get back to your work.” Alex crushed his cigarette under his foot. “Thanks for the light huh.”

“No prob. Thanks for the cig.” 

 

“What did you get?”

“I got nothing. This stupid space heater.” They left the parking lot down the back alley with their day’s catch.  They started heading home.

 “This thing’s gonna set fire to the Hovel,” said Alex.

“It’s not going to set fire to the Hovel. We have to be careful. It’s getting cold. I’m freezing in there.”

Just then they passed by the Natural History Museum and Alex saw the huge banner hanging over the steps again: “Explore your past. Know your future.” He asked Arthur “What else are we doing today?”

“Well I thought we’d drop this thing off at the Hovel and walk around looking for some other scams.”

“Hmmm.”

“Why? What did you have in mind?”

“I’m gonna go to the museum.” Alex gestured toward the huge building with its classical steps leading up to the archways, where a revolving door sifted people in and poured them back out.

“Miss art do ya?”

“No, the Natural History Museum.”

“What the hell are you going there for? We have work to do.”

“Look we’ve got food. I need to think.” The melancholy was not concealable in Alex’s manner.

“What do you expect me to do with this thing?”

“It’s not heavy. You can carry it. Do what you gotta do, I’ll meet you back at the Hovel tonight. Give me some money.”
“Oh no! I’m not giving you anything. You’re not wasting our money on some God damned museum trip. You wanna go to the museum? Sneak your a*s in there.” Arthur turned onto the road leading into Central Park.  They began to walk away from one another.

 

‘How the hell am I going to sneak into this place?’ Alex asked himself. He looked at the revolving door and noticed that no one there was taking tickets. He’d have to get inside to figure this out. He was in a personal little world now. A place where he didn’t really recognize the other people around him: sitting on the steps, driving by on the street, hailing taxis, buying and selling hot dogs. He walked up the steps and into the museum.

 

He went inside and the place was alive with action. Too many people were coming and going to count. ‘This is good,’ Alex thought ‘the more people here, the easier its going to be for me to get in.’ Alex went over to a kiosk and picked up a few brochures.  He wandered over to a corner of the great hall to study it.  Standing there as if he was looking through the brochure Alex scanned the happenings in the place. It was an immense cavern with high ceilings which perfectly accommodated the two dinosaur skeletons towering menacingly in the center of the space.  There was a counter with a series of employees selling entrance tickets to the front left of the hall, and then there were several kiosks, like the one where he got his cover.  It seemed that people were entering from behind the ticket counters.  He looked and then it seemed that people were entering the museum from the right of the hall as well.  Upon further examination he saw that people were also entering from the left of the hall. ‘This is going to be easier than I thought.’ He began walking forward to see what the ticket situation was and learned quickly that each paying patron was getting a pin"a small tin pin that was bent to fit onto their shirt pockets or coat lapels. He would have to get a pin.  Perhaps someone would throw one away on their way out.  He turned and headed for the revolving doors. Before he was even outside he saw the pastel green of one of the pins flattened on the marble floor. Bending down to tie his laces, he picked up the pin, wiped it off, rounded it out again and clasped it to his lapel.  He picked up a receipt off of the ground, it was a receipt for a grocery store, but it would do.  He put it inside his brochures, the tip sticking out and walked confidently in. The rest was easy.

 

Canis lupus: Wolf read the sign. At one time the wolf ranged over most of the North American Continent. A natural predator, the wolf’s numbers were regulated by the natural harmony and equilibrium of its ecosystem before the arrival of European settlers. Native Americans having few or no domesticated animals, never clashed with the wolf in large numbers, but European settlers, with their cows and sheep became fast enemies with the wolf. It is the natural instinct of the predator to pursue the weakest animal among the group"that which will be easiest to kill. With the arrival of domesticated animals that were relatively slow and week"and most importantly"fenced in, the wolf turned from its natural prey to the easy meal of the settlers. It, therefore, became the enemy of the settlers and has been hunted and trapped by man until it is now a rare animal in most parts of the United States. Alex looked into the stale eyes of the reproduced wolves in the diorama which had been made to give him an idea of what wolves must be like. The best known hunter of North America, in the olden days the big gray wolves of the plains used to follow the bison herds, but with the disappearance of the bison and the introduction of domestic stock, the wolf turned to livestock for its food supply.

 

“The disappearance of the bison herds?” Alex asked audibly. “It should say the targeted extermination of the bison herds.”