By Thomas M. Disch
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Additional resources for 334
Chapel got up and let Ab in. By three o'clock Chapel had agreed, albeit sullenly, to help Ab find a replacement for the body he had lost. BODIES / 53 3. Martinez had been at the desk when the call came from Macy's saying to hold the Newman body till their driver got there. Though he knew that the vaults contained nothing but three male geriatric numbers, he made mild yes-sounds and started filling out both forms. He left a message for Ab at his emergency number, then (on the principle that if there was going to be shit it should be Ab who either cleaned it up or ate it, as God willed) got word to his cousin to call in sick for the second (two to ten) shift.
Long strings of blood came out with the pulped food. He stood up, zipped, and pushed open the door. It was the boy, not the doctor. "I'm better now," he said. " The boy climbed back onto the cart, which he'd wheeled himself all this way, and Chapel pushed him around the corner and down the hall to Surgery. Ab had felt it in his arms and his hands, a power of luck, as though when he leaned forward to flip over each card his fingers could read through the plastic to know whether it was, whether it wasn't the diamond he needed to make his flush.
Fast post mortem freezing was the rule in the cry-onic industry and it didn't pay to advertise the exceptions. Ab arrived a bit before four. First off he checked out the log book. The page for April 14 was blank. A miracle of bad luck, but he wasn't surprised. " "That's incredible," Ab said, wishing it were. The phone rang. "That'll be Macy's," Martinez said equably, stripping down to street clothes. " Martinez flashed a big winner's smile. They'd 54 / THOMAS M. DISCH both gambled but Ab had lost.
334 by Thomas M. Disch