When he gets to the desk chair, Kasabian pushes back with his hind legs until his ass is firmly on the seat. Then he leans the rest of his body back like half of a drawbridge rising. In a second he’s gone from windup toy to Pinocchio on a good day, an almost real boy. He picks up the bag of donuts with his claws and drops it on the desk without offering me one.
“Is that the best Saint James could come up with? It’s better than nothing but it doesn’t exactly look finished.”
Kasabian frowns for a second then gets it.
“Saint James? Yeah. That’s about right. As for this”—he raps a fist against his chest—“your better half never paid off the charm maker reworking it, so he didn’t finish the job.”
“Why not?”
“The asshole disappeared.”
“How did you know it was me and not him just now?”
“He looks like a bathing beauty and you’re the Loch Ness Monster. Seeing you young like that was giving me the heebee-jeebies.”
“You mean how I looked before you sent me Downtown.”
“Something like that.”
With the back of one metal hand, he pushes away an ashtray overflowing with Maledictions. Fidgety jailbird stuff, like now that I’m back he thinks I’m going to steal him blind. I lean in for a closer look at his body.
“So how does it feel?”
He flexes his arms and legs. Stands and starts picking up the beer bottles, pizza boxes, and crusted food containers that cover every flat surface.
“You remember that arcade game where you move a claw around to grab a shitty teddy bear out of a bin? It’s kind of like I’m the claw.”
He flexes his fingers and picks up a Chinese-food container. His hands are the hound’s paws reworked and extended into clawlike hands.
“I know I’m ugly as a spider on a baby but it’s nice to have hands again.”
“Don’t feel so bad. We’re both in gimp club these days.”
I take the glove off and push up my left sleeve.
Kasabian shakes his head in disgust.
“Is that Kissi?”
“Yeah. Josef’s idea of a joke.”
He shakes his head and goes back to picking up trash.
“I get Rin Tin Tin’s gnawed-on bones and you get to look like Robocop. Story of my life.”
I reach over and take the Donut Universe bag off the desk. Kasabian’s eyes flicker over at me but he doesn’t say anything. I take out an apple fritter and bite into it. Fuck me. People food. The day-old dried-out grease bomb is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
“How’d you lose the arm?”
“In a fight.”
“Did it hurt?”
“A lot. Does that make you feel better?”
He moves his head side to side like he’s thinking.
“A little. Not enough. You can go out and pretend to be a person. Me? I’m still stuck in this room.”