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  “I let Charlie sleep over. The dog had to be put down after that.”

  He went back through their laundry lists of nuttery and remembered Charlie liked to put his dick in holes. He shuddered. “So, we’re having an anonymous group meeting in public? That sounds perfectly reasonable.”

  “Why can’t you just be positive?” Estella sat on the edge of the blanket. “Who has the hot chocolate?”

  “I do,” Andy whispered. He set the tray of cups, presumably hot chocolate, which Rochelle had instructed him to pick up on his way, on the center of the blanket. “I didn’t know what you liked, Milo, so I ordered you a black coffee, like Rochelle.”

  “I don’t drink coffee,” he said. “Screws with my head.”

  Estella picked up the cup marked “E” and then took a long gulp. “I love what chocolate does to my body. I’ll share if you want some.”

  “Not even if my life depended on it.”

  Rochelle sat on the corner of the blanket opposite Estella. Nina, Buggy and Charlie followed. Milo, Andy and Ozzie stood back.

  “Sit,” Rochelle patted the blanket.

  “Not to be a bitch,” Estella said, turning her head toward the trees next to them. “But could you put your mittens on?”

  Rochelle reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of mittens. “Sorry, Stella.” She slid them on. “Everyone else, it would be appreciated if you’d either put on your mittens or keep your hands in your pockets.”

  Milo snorted. He suddenly had the irresistible urge to wave his fingers in Estella’s face. That would be mean, though. Funny, but mean. Considering she had his dick in her mouth not twelve hours before, he told himself he should be a little nicer.

  “Sit,” Rochelle repeated.

  “I’ll stand.” He said.

  Ozzie and Andy nodded.

  “We’ll stand too,” Ozzie said. “Cunt-nuggets baking and dogs shitting.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Milo said.

  “Nothing, mm—dick-licker. Rough day.”

  “Fine.” Rochelle reached for her coffee. “Oz, just try to stay quiet. People are staring.”

  Ozzie nodded.

  “Today, we’re just going to enjoy the spring sunshine for a bit and bask in the wonderful news I received last night.”

  His attention strayed from the idiots on the blanket to a dog shitting in front of an old oak tree. The dog, a fluffy thing the size of a large rat with purple bows on its ears, hunkered down against the tree. It practically shook with the effort of squeezing a tiny, peanut sized shit out its ass. The owner whistled for the dog. The dog ran in her direction, and they walked away from the tree, shit ball still in the grass. He could fine the woman for violating the strict poop and scoop laws. He should. He itched to arrest someone for something. Anything.

  “Milo?” Rochelle interrupted his thoughts. “Are you paying attention?”

  “What? Yes.” He turned back to the group. “You were saying something about the news.”

  “I was saying that Andy has made significant progress these past weeks, and I think it’s time for a test.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” Andy whispered.

  “I’ve been trying to get Andy placed with a daycare for a while now,” Rochelle continued as though Andy never whispered a word. “You understand people are protective of their children, so as harmless as Andy is, the idea of someone potentially licking their children is disturbing. However, a friend of mine runs a small daycare near this park, and she’s willing to let Andy volunteer there two mornings a week for the next month. I feel the interaction with the children will help him put his coping mechanisms to work. The more exposure you have to children, Andy, the less likely you are to act on the compulsion. It’s like desensitizing yourself to an allergy.”

  “Didn’t he say he entertains thoughts of eating them too?” Milo asked. “That’s some fucking allergy.”

  “I do,” Andy whispered. “Sometimes I even Google recipes.”

  “There are recipes?”

  “You can find anything online.”

  “Wow. If I ever needed a reason to avoid the Internet....”

  “You don’t really want to eat them, Andy. That’s just your fear talking.” Rochelle frowned at Milo. “Andy’s compulsion is to lick them only. He fears he might eat them, but I’ve evaluated him thoroughly. He has no cannibalistic compulsions at all. This is just an anxiety he’s developed because of the need to taste them. It won’t happen.”

  “Can you guarantee that?”

  “Nothing is absolute, but that’s why Andy won’t be going to the daycare alone. Anyone care to volunteer as his buddy?”

  No one spoke.

  “Smart group,” he said.

  “Why is that?”

  “No sane person wants to be part of the shit show you’re about to set in motion. Accessory to the eating of a child, which I’m pretty sure is a death penalty kind of offense, isn’t something I’d want to be charged with.”

  “Thanks, Milo,” Rochelle said. “You’ll make a wonderful buddy.”

  “Hell no,” he said. “There’s no way in fucking—”

  “You spoke first. Besides, the daycare will help you deal with your fear of germs.”

  “I’m not afraid of germs.”

  “Sit on the blanket then.”

  He sneered. “Fuck off.”

  “It’s settled.” Rochelle winked at him. “Let’s finish our coffee and we can all walk Andy and Milo to the daycare.”

  “Sorry,” Andy whispered. “I don’t want to do this any more than you do.”

  Milo sighed. “You lick one of those kids, I’ll kick your ass myself, and save the parents the lawsuit.”

  “Okay. Whatever keeps me from eating them.”

  “I can’t believe this is my life.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Milo stood near a wall of cubbies at the back of the playroom. He read the names on each one, and wondered about the future of the human race if it was to be led by Madison’s and Dakotas. No better than the Ashley’s and Tiffany’s of his day, but still. One asshole even named their kid Maleficent.

  He shook his head and surveyed the room. Desks and tables had been arranged in various areas of the large space. One had bins of what looked like Legos on top. Another had several stacks of wooden puzzles. He imagined each of these served as a “center” for some type of learning, although he didn’t know what one would teach bubble headed preschoolers who couldn’t yet operate a button or brush their own teeth. He counted twenty-three dirty little beggars running around the daycare, and only two adults aside from Andy and himself. That had to violate a code of some kind. How could two people keep track of all these children?

  They all moved like tiny, filthy ninjas hell-bent on spreading their greasy finger dirt and stringy snot germs to whatever or whoever was unlucky enough to step in their paths.

  “Milo?” Bernadette, an extremely small woman—some of the kids actually towered over her—whom Rochelle introduced as her “friend,” called from the front of the room. “Come join us for Circle.”

  What the Christ was Circle? Sounded satanic. “I’m good here.”

  Something pulled on his pant leg. Milo looked down. His stomach tightened. A round, booger-crusted face peered up at him. The little boy’s tousled curls stuck to his left cheek, courtesy of the snot the kid probably wiped from his nose to the side of his head with his sleeve—he shuddered—or the back of his hand.

  “Get lost,” He whispered.

  “Miss Bee gonna read a story,” the kid said. “It’s about flies.”

  “I can hear it from here. Stop touching me.”

  The kid didn’t remove his hand. “Have to sit in Circle. It’s the rule.”

  He pulled his leg from the kid’s dirty grasp. “Piss off, you little asshole.”

  The kid’s eyes widened. He turned to the front of the room. “Miss Bee! Mr. Milo said a swear.”

  “I said two swears. Learn to count shit-stain. Oh, t
here’s three.”

  Bernadette pursed her lips. “Milo, please join us and remember: we use nice words in here.”

  “Got some nice words for you,” he muttered, but he reluctantly walked to the front of the room, where the kids sat in front of Bernadette on the floor. “I’ll stand if that’s okay. Bum knee.”

  Bernadette looked skeptical, but nodded. “Andy, why don’t you join Dakota and Maleficent here in front of me.”

  Andy walked past him. He looked ready to cry. Milo noticed he tapped his palms with his middle fingers. A coping mechanism? If the universe cared at all about his sanity, it wouldn’t let Andy lick anyone. He didn’t put much stock in the universe’s feelings for him, though, considering it put him in a situation where he was responsible for preventing a man from eating a child. He kept his eyes on Andy.

  “Now,” Bernadette said. “We’ll continue on with our reading of Lord of the Flies.”

  He almost choked. “What?”

  Bernadette sighed. “What is it, Milo?”

  “These kids can barely make it through a day without pissing their pants, and you’re reading them Lord of the Fucking Flies?”

  The children gasped. A few giggled.

  “We use nice words here, Milo,” Bernadette said, her voice decidedly low. “And you should never underestimate a child’s ability to reason or to understand the metaphors present in literature. This is also a children’s book, so they’re fine.”

  “Do their parents know you’re reading that? And how old are they, for fucksakes? Four?”

  “Parents receive a reading list at the beginning of every year. They may veto any book they like, and this one was not vetoed. Satisfied?”

  “What kind of asshole parent doesn’t ask for Dr. Seuss or even Harry Potter instead of a book about over-indulged, cannibalistic brats running amok on a deserted island?”

  “If you insist on using that language, you’ll have to sit in the naughty chair.”

  He would prefer his kid hear stories about sharing and cleaning up his shit, but hey, he wasn’t a parent and never would be. “Okay then, carry on I guess.”

  Bernadette opened the book and started reading. He had no interest in the story, as he had to read it in high school, so he watched Andy. The kid next to Andy, Dakota he assumed, sat so their knees touched. What was it with kids having to be all up in your shit? They had no concept of personal space.

  Andy leaned over, sniffing the boy’s head.

  “Don’t do it,” Milo said under his breath.

  Andy closed his eyes, his tongue slid past his lips, but he didn’t go farther.

  Milo looked at his hands.

  Andy tapped his palms with his middle fingers, and took several deep breaths. He opened his eyes, and stared at the boy’s brown, spiky hair. The palm tapping increased. Andy licked his lips again. Slowly, and much to his horror, Andy leaned closer to the boy’s head. His tongue darted out, and he watched, almost transfixed, as Andy’s tongue touched the boy’s hair.

  He was going to vomit.

  The boy turned, pinning Andy with a haughty glare. “Dude! Did you just lick my head?”

  Andy had the good sense to blush. He nodded. “Sorry. I… it just looked so soft.”

  Great. Now they’d both get arrested and Captain Cunt would never give him his job back. Child endangerment, or whatever they called licking a kid, was a serious matter.

  “It’s okay.” The kid patted Andy’s hand. “My dad eats bellybutton lint. Mom says everybody’s got something.”

  Andy nodded. “I have to lick… things. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Here.” The boy lifted his hand. “I probably have jam on my hands still. You can clean it off. Then I won’t have to wash my hands before snack.”

  He glanced at Bernadette, who seemed oblivious to the shenanigans happening at her feet. He looked back to Andy, who now held the kid’s hand to his mouth.

  “Okay,” he said, causing Bernadette to pause in her storytelling. “Me and Andy need time out.”

  Andy released the kid’s hand.

  “Come on,” he said. “Outside. Now.”

  Andy sighed, but stood. He followed Milo into the hallway, his gaze on the ground.

  He shut the door behind them and then turned to face Andy. “What the fuck was that?”

  “I just....” Andy’s voice was almost too whispery to hear. “I can’t do it. They’re so delicious.”

  “You didn’t even last twenty minutes. This is what you call progress? That kid didn’t even look tasty. He was dirty and I’m pretty sure he still wears a diaper. If you’re going to lick a kid, choose a clean one for crying out loud.”

  “They all smell of baby soap and cookies. I really like cookies.”

  “This is seriously happening to me,” he said. “Somehow, my life has been reduced to chastising a fucking pervert in the hallway of a daycare run by a midget.”

  “I don’t think they like it when you call them midgets.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what they like.” Milo rubbed his forehead. “I’m going to have to kick your ass now.”

  “Can you try to avoid the face?”

  “And you’re just going to let me do this.”

  “I deserve an ass kicking. Maybe it’ll help me resist the urge next time.”

  “What coping mechanisms did Doctor Stupid give you?”

  Andy frowned. “I’m to touch my palms, to remind myself to stay in the present. If that doesn’t work, I do this breathing thing—”

  “Has Rochelle even gone to medical school?”

  “I think so.”

  “Obviously she missed a few classes, because that touching and breathing bullshit isn’t going to stop the freak show inside your head. I can’t even...” Milo stopped his tirade when he saw Andy’s lip quiver. Fucker better not cry. He couldn’t handle grown man crying. “You know what you need to do next time you feel the urge to lick a child?”

  Andy shook his head.

  “Pinch yourself right in the nut-sack.”

  “Um…” Andy shifted his feet. “I think that would be painful.”

  “No, I have a better idea.” He removed the pin from his tie. “Put this in your pocket. When you want to lick, poke your scrotum with this. The pain will tell you it’s a bad fucking idea and no one has to know you even had the urge.”

  “I think that’s a bad idea. Self-harming is unhealthy.”

  “It’s better than what Rochelle’s telling you to do, because that clearly isn’t working.”

  “You still gonna kick my ass?”

  He wanted to, but it’d be like beating up a large toddler. Andy was practically helpless. “No, but one more incident, and we’re not even going to talk about it. I’ll just go straight to the ass kicking. Are we clear?”

  Andy nodded. “I’ll try poking my balls. Thank you, Milo. I think we’ll be good friends.”

  Not even if it depended on my life, Milo thought, but handed him the pin with an encouraging smile. Andy slipped it in his pocket.

  “Now.” He put his hand on the door. “We’ll both stand during Circle. You’ve proven you can’t be trusted, so you’ve lost the privilege to sit close to them. When that’s done, we’ll have lunch with these shit eaters and then I can go home. Think you can keep your tongue to yourself for another hour or two?”

  Andy nodded. “I think so.”

  “Seriously, Andy. They probably have lice. You don’t want to lick parasites, do you?”

  Andy shuddered. “No.”

  “Well just remember, kids have lice and they wipe everything everywhere. That one you just tasted probably took a shit earlier, didn’t wash his hands, and then ran those dirty things through his hair. You lick that, you’re essentially eating that kid’s shit. Lice covered in kid shit.”

  “Gross.”

  “Now there’s a coping mechanism for you.”

  ***

  Rochelle waited for Milo and Andy to take their seats and then opened Andy’s file. �
��Well, Andy? Tell us how it went.”

  Andy glanced at Milo, who shrugged. Then he looked at Rochelle. “I licked a kid.”

  “Oh no.” Rochelle had high hopes for this test. She should’ve sent Charlie or Ozzie as a buddy. Milo wasn’t the supportive type. She’d worried about Charlie’s hole obsession, though, and Ozzie’s foul language would’ve been inappropriate. “Just one?”

  “Should he have licked more?” Milo asked.

  “If it was just one, it means he tried to resist.”

  “I think licking one kid is reason enough to reconsider making Andy face his compulsions. I don’t know about you, but I have issues with child endangerment,” he said. “He should never be allowed near children. Period.”

  Rochelle knew he would be a tough nut, but she didn’t realize how much he’d challenge her authority. Best thing to do was ignore him. “Just one time, Andy?”

  Andy nodded. “And then Milo helped me. He made me take a time out and we talked. When I went back in, I was good. I poked my nuts when I felt like licking and it really worked.”

  “You poked your what now?” Charlie asked.

  “My nuts.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re telling me.” Rochelle had been extremely careful to prevent Andy from sexualizing his compulsion. This nut poking made her very nervous.

  “I poked my testicles.”

  “I know what you mean by that, but—”

  “I told him to stick his nuts with a pin when he felt like licking those dirty pieces of questionable DNA. Your breathing technique wasn’t working,” Milo interrupted. “And touching palms? What the hell kind of quackery is that?”

  “Milo.” Rochelle forced herself to remain calm. “I am the doctor here. You’re the patient. Please refrain from giving advice you’re not qualified to give.”

  “But it worked,” Andy whispered. “I poked my nuts a couple of times and after that I didn’t need to do it again, because I didn’t want to lick anything. Well, I mostly didn’t want to poke my nuts again. They were bleeding. Maybe I poked too hard.”

  Rochelle didn’t believe him. It couldn’t be that simple. “I see.”

  “It wasn’t a total failure. I have a date.”