“Lung cancer. Six years ago.” “Did he smoke?” Abraham asked, waving at a family of four and their cat. The cat was on a leash. It was a Persian cat. It looked mean and pissed off. “No, not even a pipe,” Baker said. “He was afraid it would give him cancer.” “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” McVries said, “who buried him? Tell us so we can discuss world problems, or baseball, or birth control or something.” “I think birth control is a world problem,” Garraty said seriously. “My girlfriend is a Catholic and—” “Come on!” McVries bellowed. “Who the fuck buried your grandfather, Baker?” “My uncle. He was my
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