Contrary to what Terrence and Earl might have believed, yelling their questions at Octavio did not help him understand their English any better. He told them everything he had seen in as much detail as possible, speaking slowly so that they would understand. It wasn’t his fault they didn’t speak a word of Spanish. They seemed to understand it just fine, but they didn’t believe his eyes any more than he did. He wasn’t worried they might fire him, but he was faintly aware that he was in trouble and the interrogation only intensified with Earl’s frustration. He had made every effort to explain the situation as clearly as he could with a dry mouth. And he felt incredibly heavy. And hungry.

  “Now why the fuck would I be gettin’ him stoned?” Earl hollered at Terrence.

  “Well, I sure as hell didn’t fuckin’ do it!” Terrence hollered.

  Octavio watched them yelling at each other as distant as a dream. They were very funny. “Guau-guau-guau” Octavio barked softly at them both.

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  “So, where the fuck did he go!?” Earl yelled again as if Octavio had his hearing aid turned down.

  Octavio shook his head slowly. “Ya te dije,” he muttered. “quitatelo de la oreja, puto.”

  Terrence caught Earl before he could lunge at the languid dishdog. “Bro, you’re going to scare the guy. Take it easy.”

  “I’m gonna kick his skinny little ass in a second.”

  “We fuckin’ need him, bro.” Terrence all but pleaded.

  “Guau-guau.” Octavio barked and giggled into his palm.

  “He just walked out without saying anything?”

  “No,” Octavio shook his head slowly. “Fue un milagro.” He nodded gravely.

  “Bro,” Terrence inspected the roach. “How much of this did you smoke?”

  Octavio giggled playfully. “Paco me dejo con la macha y se meti? en el basurero—"

  “I get it, I get it.” Earl pushed his sleeves up to be absolutely sure that the dishwasher understood what he understood to have transpired behind the Diner. “Like, Hitch hid in the magic dumpster or whatever, and when he came out, he was the fuckin’ Virgin Mary and baby Jesus turned into a fucking dog, right?”

  “Asi.” Octavio nodded. “Es lo que dije.”

  “And then they just strolled the fuck off?”

  The dishwasher shrugged.

  “Bro,” Terrence chuckled, “he’s baked as fuck.”

  Octavio smiled up at the pair. “Tengo hambre.”