Sinner's Ball by Ira Berkowitz

it.”
    â€œRight. I forgot. His father may answer.”
    I rang the bell. It was one of those two-tone chimey deals.
    DeeDee moved behind me.
    A few long seconds later the door opened. A middle-agedman in a wheelchair eyed me suspiciously. His left eye sported a shiner.
    I stepped aside, putting DeeDee front and center.
    â€œMy name’s Steeg. My friend, DeeDee Santos, is here to see Justin.”
    She threw me a look that would have turned a gorgon to stone.
    â€œUh, Mr. Hapner. Justin and I are, uh, friends. From school. And I… haven’t heard from him. I, uh, just wondered if he was all right.”
    Hapner’s milky blue eyes shifted from DeeDee to me, lingered a bit, and lit on DeeDee again.
    â€œHe’s never mentioned your name.”
    This was as close as I’d come to seeing her cry.
    I draped my arm around DeeDee’s shoulders.
    I did a poor job keeping the edge from my voice. “Trust me,” I said. “They’re friends.”
    â€œJustin’s in his room. Sleeping.”
    DeeDee wriggled away. “Maybe we should go, Steeg.”
    â€œI’ve forgotten my manners,” Hapner said. “Justin doesn’t have many friends stop by. Come on in.”
    Hapner’s motorized wheelchair gave a low hum as it rolled backward down a short foyer to the living room.
    DeeDee went first. I followed right behind.
    The apartment was neat and simply furnished. The layout was pretty basic. Eat-in kitchen off the foyer. Two bedrooms off the living room. One door open. The other closed.
    Photos of Justin sat on every flat surface. In all but thephotos of him as a young toddler he appeared detached. Posed. Staring either directly into the lens or off into the distance. There was nothing recent. And, surprisingly, no photos of Mom.
    â€œWas Justin expecting you, DeeDee?” Hapner said.
    â€œNo. It’s just that we kind of had an argument …”
    â€œI’ll get Justin,” he said, motoring his chair toward the closed door. “Justin. You have company.”
    I heard a muffled, “Who?”
    â€œYour friend DeeDee,” Hapner said.
    A few moments passed and then the door opened a crack. When Justin saw it was DeeDee, it opened wider.
    Justin, wearing jeans and a Mets sweatshirt, stared at DeeDee with a look of confusion. “What’re you doing here?” he said.
    â€œI was worried,” DeeDee said. “It’s been a week since I heard from you. And …”
    I noticed that Hapner was watching Justin closely. Justin threw him a hard stare and he looked away. His attention switched back to DeeDee.
    â€œHow did you get here?” Justin said.
    â€œMy friend Steeg brought me.”
    Justin’s eyes settled on me. Then he turned to DeeDee.
    â€œLet’s get out of here,” he said, heading for the door.
    â€œYou’ll need a jacket,” she said. “It’s freezing.”
    â€œI’m fine,” he said.
    After they left, Hapner looked at me and half-shrugged.
    â€œYou know how it is at this age,” he said. “Be happy when his hormones settle down.”
    Hapner motored over to me and held out his hand.
    â€œForgot my manners again,” he said. “I’m Troy.”
    I took his hand. “I’m just Steeg.”
    â€œOdd first name.”
    â€œFamily name. Never cared for my given name.”
    â€œThen Steeg it is,” he said.
    Each piece of upholstered furniture was tightly sealed in a plastic cocoon. Hapner and my mother, Norah, had to have had the same decorator. I settled in on the sofa. The cushion crackled under my weight.
    â€œCan I get you something? A drink, perhaps?”
    â€œNothing, thanks.” I pointed at the shiner. “Looks pretty nasty.”
    Hapner caressed it with the tip of his finger.
    â€œIt’s nothing,” he said, with a weak smile. “Turned around too quick and whacked myself with a doorknob.”
    I reached over