Perhaps the dolls were to be stashed someplace near the club.
Balkey entertained the notion and then tossed trash at it. Coral’s
or a hovel next door: it’s all bad news. With a street across and
a flood of people between them, our boy watched the Pinnys
wade across the humanity
and make it to the other side with five Rag dolls. Balkey could see
‘em dolls shudder from even at his distance. And in this heat?
It was a fear shake. Balkey could recognize the action like a desert
rap recognizes his mousemeal. But he couldn’t stand to see a Rag
wriggle in fear like that. Wasn’t right by no standards. They’d seen
enough. An ugly, ugly realization had been punching Balkey in the gut.
In the minute, it slapped him in the face, brought soft light to his mind.