Pages 728–729
The snatch itself happened between scenes: "the Chinkette women had been strengthless and lightweight, flew aside like dolls," and Randy Lenz is now jogging the dark cruciform alleys of Little Lisbon between 2224 and 2226h, both treasure-heavy bags pulling him along. The slurs, as before, are Lenz's own register, reported from inside. The alley he moves through is a nighttime gallery — Sterno drinkers, children with a makeshift pipe, a chanting figure against a dumpster — and the scene's business is how he manages not to see any of it as a mirror.
Terms, in order of appearance
- Sterno (p. 728) — real canned cooking fuel; shared by two sitting figures as drink, warmth, or both.
- E.W.D. / Empire (p. 728) — Empire Waste Displacement, the waste-launching concern from the Reconfiguration lore of pp. 380ff; here just a parked truck with an incredible union.
- Kryptonite (p. 728) — real lock brand; why the valuable hitch is still there.
- M. Fizzy (p. 728) — the book's ubiquitous Subsidized-era soda; the plastic bottle serves four boys as a crack pipe.
- agnate (p. 729) — as printed: Lenz's word for the language he can't identify (kin to argot).
- devroid (p. 729) — as printed; Lenz's devoid.
After you read: three things
1. The narrator shows you the stitching, once. "A tiny crash off somewhere south down the network of alleys was actually Poor Tony Krause rolling the steel waste-barrel that tripped up Ruth van Cleve" (p. 728). No character could know that; the book steps outside every point of view for one sentence to tie the night's two chases into a single map — and, in passing, resolves the pursuit you left hanging at p. 721.
2. Predation is his cure for numbness. Three pages ago Lenz couldn't feel his feet or nose (pp. 716–719); now, bags in hand, "His breath came easy and he could feel himself from scalp to sole" (p. 728). The scene surrounds that restored wholeness with a gallery of what the pipe actually buys — boys "none... over like twelve" hunching at the flame, one drawing a slow pretend bead on him — while Lenz strides through "extruding dignified purpose."
3. Two details he declines to reflect on. The alley is "devroid of cats and rodents both; he did not stop to reflect why" — you can: p. 717 noted Little Lisbon's feral population "(dwindling)" since Lenz got familiar with these alleys. And the one voice that addresses him directly — the supine figure's "Pretty, pretty, pretty" — he steps over, whispering the scene's last line about everyone in the alley but himself: "Jesus what a lot of fucked-up ass-eating fucking losers" (p. 729). The denial is load-bearing; watch it work.
Written only from this scene and earlier pages. Safe to read before you start.