supported the ceiling fan. Craig kept swinging, peeking between his closed fingers. Cheryl stood in front of the window, kid hiked over her breasts, and she and Abe watched Craig poking about. He was talking the entire time. He said he was going to get the son of a bitch. Abe looked at Cheryl and he moved as if to take the broom from Craig but she shook her head. Finally the bat flew away, slapping along the ceiling before shuddering out the open door. Craig dropped the broom in the kitchen and swigged orange juice. He grabbed the carton to refill the glass but put it back down and took the kid from Cheryl, who was heaving, not crying, just breathing enough breaths for everybody else in the room. He held up the kid under the armpits. They didn’t look like each other at all.
“That was fun, right? That bat didn’t know where to go. It’s because he’s blind.”
He handed the kid back to Cheryl and went to bed.
Cheryl told Abe to sit at the table. “Daniel is sleeping,” she said, as if to say now we can actually