CHAPTER TEN
Nightbeat turned his mind downstairs for further investigation, but it led to nothing. Wally and Mimi came home shortly after with a bunch of visitors. Some were children, and they were ushered into Joey’s room.
“Are you sure?” a young woman asked. “I know how it must feel—”
“It’s fine,” Mimi said. “It would actually feel good to hear someone having fun in that room again. It would be nice to give the toys some company.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Forget it. I mean, do you ever think about a child’s toys when they are no longer needed? In particular in . . . in Joey’s case?”
Nightbeat regretted hearing it. He hoped none of the others had, too, especially Bunny and Fox. He glanced over to them, but neither gave any indication.
The children entered the room one by one, looking like they were cows being led to slaughter. None of them expressed anything at all, not even camaraderie. There were four of them, and they sat on the floor, barely acknowledging each other. One of them picked up Cat and flicked his tail around. Nightbeat saw Cat perk up, and the asshole made like he was going to bite the kid’s neck.
Then one of them picked up Nightbeat. “What’s this supposed to be? A Transformer?”
“I guess,” another said. “It looks like the old kind. Not the cool kind like we got.”
The kid tried to transform Nightbeat, but after twisting and turning him in all directions, he gave up, tossing Nightbeat to the floor. “Doesn’t this Joey kid have anything cool?”
Another picked up Don Snowy. “Nope. Just this baby stuff.”
“Hey, I like Felix the Cat,” said another. “Look. There’s a bunch of him.”
The only kid who hadn’t said anything so far cleared his throat. “Don’t you guys feel kind of weird?”
“What do you mean?”
“Us. In this dead kid’s room. We didn’t even know him, and now we’re playing with his stuff. It’s weird, right?”
The others shrugged. One said, “I don’t know. These are stupid toys, though.”
Spike winked at Angel. No one but Nightbeat and Angel noticed.
“What do you think’s gonna happen to ‘em?” the loner asked.
“Prolly sell ‘em at a garbage sale.”
“You mean a garage sale.”
“I thought it was garbage sale.”
“Me, too.”
“Prolly just throw them out,” another kid said. “Who wants to play with stupid toys?” He kicked Bunny, and Nightbeat winced.
“It’s kind of sad,” the loner said. “I’d hate to die and have my toys get thrown out.”
Another kid picked up a couple of the goombas. “Ever notice how these things look like peepees?”
“Ew! You’re gross!”
“Shut up! You thought so, too!” He demonstrated by putting one of the goombas by his crotch.
One of the other kids went to slap it out of his hand, but the kid double-downed. “Trynna grab my peepee? Go on! Grab it!” Thrusting it out with a stupid grin on his face.
The kid who tried to slap the goomba picked up Don Snowy and hurled him into the goomba-peepee kid’s face. He fell backwards. “Ow! I’m telling!”
“You tell, and I’ll tell about you doing the peepee thing!”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I would!”
“Guys!” a voice from downstairs called out. “What’s going on up there?”
A chorus: “Nothing!”
The toys were very happy when the kids left after about an hour. Don Snowy picked himself up, muttering to himself. “Stupid toy? We’re stupid toys? Yo! I’m no stupid fuckin’ toy! I oughtta beat that kid within an inch of his life!”
“Oh?” Nightbeat asked. “Interesting choice of words.”
“Yo, fuck you, pig!”
“Yo!” the goombas shouted. “Yo! Yo! Yo!”
Don Draper staggered to his webbed feet, looking for his scotch. The sound of the goombas attacked through his hangover haze. “Shut the fuck up!” he shouted. “Shut up, or I’ll . . .” He trailed off for a moment, then lurched toward the closet. He barely made it before they heard the sounds of his hurling.
Nightbeat sighed. It would be a long night.
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