She cupped his hand between her palms and lowered her head to light another cigarette, forgetting the just-lit one in the ashtray. The dry warmth of her fingers gave him a hard-on. He motioned to Banion for another drink.

"Cancer's a real bitch," he said.

"My whole family had cancer," she said. "My father had lung cancer, my mother had ovary cancer, my sister had stomach cancer." She counted off on her fingers. "And me..." She stopped counting and stared at him. "I got cancer of the rectum."

Chubby closed his eyes and felt himself falling off the barstool. He saw the walls rushing past him and the floor zooming up into his face. When he opened his eyes a second later he was still sitting on the barstool, his cigarette between his fingers. Pearls of sweat formed at his hairline.

"They just keep cuttin' and cuttin' and cuttin'..." Sylvia droned on.

Chubby jumped as he heard the whine of Banion's wheelchair. Sylvia touched Chubby's hand. He jerked away from her touch. He looked into the mirror for Tommy. The bar was deserted. He jumped off his stool and looked around frantically. Sylvia's face managed to look sharp and cold in the soft shadowy light. "Motherfuckin' bastard!" Chubby clenched his teeth, looking for his brother.

"It's not contagious," Sylvia said in a weak yet bitter voice not even directed at Chubby.

Chubby kicked open the "Gents" door and saw Tommy doubled over with laughter by the urinal. Tommy tried to whinny but he was laughing too hard. Chubby took a swing at him. Tommy caught Chubby's fist with his own big hands but the force of the punch knocked him down anyhow.

Tommy kept laughing. "You—you shoulda seen your face." He pointed at Chubby.

Chubby pulled back his leg to kick him in the ribs. Chubby's skin was gray and his hands were trembling. Tommy saw the kick coming and rolled away. Chubby suddenly smiled. The color came back to his face and he turned, moving swiftly into a stall, and emerged two seconds later with two sopping-wet balls of toilet paper that he threw at Tommy, hitting him in the face with one and in the crotch with the other. Tommy jumped up and ran into the other stall. Chubby ran back into the first stall. In less than a minute they were laughing and yelling, having a toilet paper war, covering themselves and the walls with gray clots of wet tissue until they were both exhausted. Laughing weakly and panting, they staggered from the bathroom, through the bar, ignoring Sylvia, who stared rigidly at her hands, and out into the street.

***

"Did you really ball her, Tommy?" Tommy cruised slowly down Central Avenue, Chubby sprawled in the shotgun seat.

"Nah." Tommy popped a piece of Dentyne that was on the dashboard into his mouth. "I was talkin' to her Friday night. She tol' me like she tol' you.