limping. "
"Why would I need to hustle you or anyone? I have the rarest merchandise in all of Berenice-the dreams of great artists. What will you give me to see Mr. Welles wonderful film?"
"I have a little cash, but thats probably not worth anything here. "
"No, no. Money is trash to me. " He looked Spyder up and down like Spyder had once seen his uncle size up a neighbors 57 T-Bird. The uncle came back that night to steal the car, but the neighbor was waiting and shot him in the head with a thirty-ought six.
"That ring," Bulgarkov said. "Ill take that. "
"My ex gave me that. "
"Even better. The memory of the gesture will still live in the metal. "
Spyder looked at the ring on his left hand. It was a half skull that wrapped around the back of his finger. Jenny had given him the ring on their six month anniversary. It was a cheap thing, but hed always loved it.
"I dont know," he said.
"Mr. Welles is waiting. I am waiting. You are waiting, too. The girl, obviously, is gone. Let the ring go and get on with your life. "
Spyder thought about it. Things hadnt always been bad with Jenny, and the ring was a reminder of a time when things had been close to great. These days, every memory of her felt like five hundred pounds of nails. That wasnt what made the decision for him. In the end, he gave the ring to the merchant for the same reason hed done so many things in his life: "Why the hell not?" he said and slid the ring off.
Bulgarkov dropped the ring into a pocket beneath his loops of barbed wire and said, "The cinema is this way. " He pointed back toward the plaza and came from his stall to show Spyder, b
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