Leopold downed what was left of the concoction in his Mason jar. He wiped away what he didn’t swallow with the sleeve of his infected arm. Baby, we’ll be fine, Leopold slurred.

Is he ready, R asked.

Caterpillar Alex studied Leopold. Leopold’s head lolled to the left, then down, then back up again. Not sure.

How are you not sure, I asked.

Leopold drinks six Mason jars a night.

Six? R and me asked together.

Six.

Shit, I said.

Yeah.

He probably wouldn’t feel it, R said.

But I stay down with my demons, Leopold slurred.

What demons, I asked.

Shit, if I knew, Caterpillar Alex said. When he drinks, he gets like this...

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