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He tried several Eighth Avenue places before he found one that was right. He sensed it as soon as he stepped from the darkness of the street to the greater darkness of the bar. A ton of hookers moving restless to the beat of the nigger music coming from the juke. And in the rear, a bunch of well-dressed pimps, sitting like they owned the world.

Billy Boy took a seat in the corner of the bar, ordered a seven and seven. A couple of hookers hit on him right off but he brushed them, they weren
’
t right. The fourth or fifth was white and scrawny, burned to pieces; anyone who
’
d work a chick that hard had to have money.
“
I could learn to likejou a lot,
”
she said.
“
Bet you
’
re big all over.
”

“
I want your pimp,
”
Billy Boy said.

She looked shocked.
“
I got no one. Free-lance all the way.
”

“
Too bad.
”
He took out a ten, put it on the bar.
“
I
’
d of given you that if you
’
d brought him over.
”

“
I think maybe my agent
’
s here,
”
she answered.
“
In the back.
”

Billy Boy faced front, said nothing, nursed his seven and seven. In a minute the burnout was back.
“
He
’
ll be most glad to talk to you,
”
she said, pointing toward a large black man in a cowboy hat who was moving toward them. Billy Boy pushed her the ten and she left.

“
What
’
s doing, my man?
”
the black guy said.

“
I
’
m a little short on cash,
”
Billy Boy told him.

“
So
’
s half the civilized world.
”

Billy Boy took out a man
’
s gold watch, flashed it briefly, put it back in his pocket.
“
There
’
s more. I
’
m selling, if you wanna buy. But not here.
”

“
A business venture, huh. Well, I shouldn
’
t but I will—promise you won
’
t take advantage of me, my man; you look awful smart.
”
He was smiling all the time he talked and Billy Boy tried not to let it bother him. They left the bar, went around the corner to a flophouse, paid for a room on the second floor. Billy Boy followed the other guy up. He was big, six four, and he moved like an athlete.

Inside the room, Billy Boy emptied his pockets on the bed, dropping the gold bracelets and the earrings and the men
’
s watches and the women
’
s watches. A ton of stuff.

“
Relative die and leave you this?
”

“
Why you all the time smiling? You could piss people off smiling like that.
”

“
It
’
s a mean world, I try to spread happiness.
”
He studied half a dozen bracelets, examined a watch.
“
Looks like quality stuff. But then, what do I know?
”

“
It
’
s the best. Straight from Bloomington
’s”
’

Now the black guy started laughing.
“
Dale
’
s,
my man. Bloom-
ingdale
’
s.
”

Billy Boy could feel his hand starting to turn into a fist.

“
Eighty bucks,
”
the black guy said.

“
You listen now—you listen now—I got a number inside my head—if you guess more than my number, you get all this—if you guess less than the number inside my head, deep shit is what you
’
re into.
”
He opened the bathroom door, tested it, made his arm a club, and blasted the door off its hinges.

“
Thousand
“
the black guy said—
”
Jesus, it ain
’
t worth more
’
n that—
”

Billy Boy started toward him. The number in his head had been two fifty but he was on fire.

‘
Twelve hunnerds all I got!
”

Billy Boy held out his hand for the money, got it, watched as the pimp grabbed the merchandise, went to the door, opened it.
“
Don
’
t never come back to that bar,
”
he said, and he took off.

Billy Boy went right back to the bar, ordered another seven and seven, took it back to a chair near where the pimp was sitting with half a dozen others.

Not one of them even budged. And most of them looked afraid. Billy Boy hked that. He never felt fear. But scaring other people, that was more fun than anything.

He got up, left the bar. He was hungry. He spotted a McDonald
’
s and went in. It wasn
’
t too crowded and when it was his turn he ordered six Big Macs.
“
To go?
”
the girl asked. He shook his head, paid, went to a table, started to eat.

A little kid began to giggle.

Billy Boy glanced up. The little kid was pointing to another little kid—pointing at the six hamburgers. Now their folks were looking too. Billy Boy turned and stared around the other way. Same story. People were watching him.

Just lemme be invisible shit!

He finished the second sandwich, got up, left the rest uneaten. He couldn
’
t help that he had a big appetite. It took a lot to fill him, so he went to a Burger King and ordered a coupte of Whoppers.

He wanted a bunch but they
’
d start looking at him again if he did that. His next stop was the Colonel where he had four pieces of the crispy. Then he found an Arthur Treacher
’
s and finished up with fish. Then he found a whore, made a deal, took her in the hallway of a tenement Then he headed back down to Ninth Avenue where the Duchess was.

They went well into the morning talking about their lives
…

He woke in some fleabag, checked to see his money was safe. It was, which was good, cause sometimes when he boozed it bad he did dumb things—there were two empties on the floor, two quarts before sleep, and usually that wasn
’
t any big deal but he
’
d been inside so long he was out of practice. Booze was like anything else, you had to practice.

He got up and went to the sink, put some water on his face. His hangover was pretty bad but you didn
’
t get them when you were locked inside, so don
’
t bitch he told himself. Now he studied himself in the mirror.

Brown eyes, brown hair, average features—except they spotted him because he was so wide. The shoulders belonged on a bigger man. When you were built like he was built you carried your own spotlight. Sometimes he tried slumping, tried being five eleven instead of over six one. And sometimes it didn
’
t work. Wishing again for invisibility, he opened the door, walked down to the lobby. He
’
d paid in advance and there was no way he
’
d come back here again—different places each night, you had to keep moving —so when the rummy room clerk said good day he just grunted and kept on going.

First thing he saw on the street was a Chink hooker staring at the sun. Dainty, black-haired. He paid her, trailed her into a room she had, got his money
’
s worth, left. What a great city. Whores in the morning. What a sweet life.

Hero
’
s looked better in the daylight than when he
’
d checked it out the afternoon before. Great-looking threads. That was what the niggers called them back inside:
“
heavy threads, man.
”
Been in America all these years and the assholes still couldn
’
t speak English.

“
Yessir?
”
the salesman said. Big guy. Six six. Slim build. Average hands.

Billy Boy looked around the place. He was it as far as customers went. Still he felt nervous—-how long had it been since he
’
d bought
clothes? Years and years. Inside they gave you what to wear, outside he took. He tried to smile and said,
“
Some heavy threads.
”

“
We
’
ve got the best,
”
the salesman said.
“
I
’
m Nick, you
’
re… ?
”

“
Will. An
’
I want the works. I wanna suit. I wanna shirt. I want it should all fit perfect.
”

Nick raised his right hand.
“
The day something leaves this place that doesn
’
t fit perfect is the day I close.
”
He took a step back, studied Billy Boy.
“
What
’
s your neck?
”

“
Don
’
t know.
”

“
Wonderful—cause I
’
m a great guesser and I
’
d put you at …
”
He studied Billy again.
“
Eighteen and a half neck, thirty-six sleeve.
”
He got a tape measure, expertly applied it, showed it to Billy Boy.
“
On the button. For a suit, maybe you ought to try a fifty long, athletic cut. That sound okay?
”

“
Just so they
’
re heavy threads is all I care.
”

“
Now color.
”
He led the way to the suit area.
“
Young man like you, I wouldn
’
t want to see you in old colors. Dark gray, navy blue, that
’
s drab.
”

“
You pick, okay? I just want it now.
”

“
We
’
re a one-day store, Will. I
’
ll do the measuring, tailor comes in this afternoon, you can have the shebang before we close. Seven ail right?
”
,

“
An
’
them
—
an
’
them!
”
Billy Boy pointed to the salesman
’
s boots. He was talking too loud, much too loud, but he couldn
’
t help it.
“
I
want them too!
”

“
Not for sale I
’
m afraid. Those are mine. Custom-made special. Cost me three hundred.
”

Billy Boy put his foot beside the salesman
’
s. They were about the same size.
“
I
’
ll pay five hundred for what you got on.
”

Nick smiled.
“
Can
’
t Will—I need them for my job—people like a big salesman in a shop like this—Adler
’
s only gives you two, these give me four plus.
”

“
Six hundred,
”
Billy Boy said.

“
Just not for sale,
”
Nick told him.

Billy Boy said he understood, paid cash in advance for the clothes, promised he
’
d be back by seven.

It was closer to quarter after when he knocked at the dark store. There was a pause before Nick appeared from the back, nodded when he saw who it was, opened up.
“
I was about to lock up and leave,
”
he said.

“
Sorry,
”
from Billy Boy.

“
No harm. All
’
s done.
”
He indicated a hanger of clothes and a box of shirts.
“
Come back real soon.
”

“
Don
’
t I get to try
‘
em on? What if the pants aren
’
t right?
”

Nick looked at his watch.
“
The wife
’
s waiting.
”

“
I
’
ll hurry. Promise.
”

Nick pointed the way in the back to a curtained-off area. Billy Boy disappeared. Nick paced. Billy Boy called out then,
“
You better come look at this.
”
Nick went behind the curtained area. The last thing he saw was a club coming down
…

The police arrived before eight and by then the crowds had already begun and by nine there were mobs of people standing in a semicircle around the lit clothing store. It was cold but more and more of them kept coming, watching the police go in and out of the store and the blond giant didn
’
t arrive until nine thirty when he went up to a group of black kids and said, point
’
ing to the store,
“
Trouble?
”
and the black kids looked at him, studied him, then looked away and said,
“
Murder,
”
and the blond giant moved on down to another group of people, young couples, and he said,
“
Is it true, a murder?
”
and the couples looked at him awhile then said,
“
Broke the guy
’
s neck,
”
and the blond giant moved away, down to some businessmen, and said,
“
Murdered I hear, neck broke and all,
”
and the oldest businessman said,
“
Murdered and robbed, money, clothes, everything, they found him naked and dead,
”
and the blond giant shook his head, moved on, and as he continued to mingle, continued to move from group to group, Billy Boy wanted to whoop out loud like a kid when he gets his first tw©-wheeler. Because that
’
s what it was like—his slumping days were over, he stood six foot six now because he was wearing the boots, the special four-inch elevator boots, and the brand new three hundred dollar long-haired blond wig fit perfect,
perfect,
and as he moved along he knew people were looking at him and he loved it, because they were looking at him, sure, but they weren
’
t
seeing
him, he wasn
’
t there.

Two detectives came out of the clothing store and walked right past him. The older one smelled of aftershave and the younger one was big with eyes so blue and Billy Boy tapped the old one on the shoulder and said,
“
Excuse me, sir, but someone down the way said the poor man was naked with his neck broke, and I wondered,
what
’
s the city coming to?
”
They were deep in conversation and neither of them answered, just shrugged, moved away. Billy Boy stared after them. The old one kept on walking.