Raych had not entirely¹ left the neighborhood after he had walked them back to their apartment house.
He had eaten well while waiting for the interview with Davan to be done and later had slept a bit after finding a bathroom that more or less worked. He really had no place to go now that all that was done. He had a home of sorts and a mother who was not likely to be perturbed² if he stayed away for a while. She never was.
He did not know who his father was and wondered sometimes if he really had one. He had been told he had to have one and the reasons for that had been explained to him crudely enough. Sometimes he wondered if he ought to believe so peculiar³ a story, but he did find the details titillating⁴. He thought of that in connection with the lady. She was an old lady, of course, but she was pretty and she could fight like a man--better than a man. It filled him with vague notions.
And she had offered to let him take a bath. He could swim in the Billibotton pool sometimes when he had some credits he didnt need for anything else or when he could sneak⁵ in. Those were the only times he got wet all over, but it was chilly⁶ and he had to wait to get dry.
Taking a bath was different. There would be hot water, soap, towels, and warm air. He wasnt sure what it would feel like, except that it would be nice if she was there.
He was walkway-wise enough to know of places where he could park himself in an alley⁷ off a walkway that would be near a bathroom and still be near enough to where she was, yet where he probably wouldnt be found and made to run away. He spent the night thinking strange thoughts. What if he did learn to read and write? Could he do something with that? He wasnt sure what, but maybe they could tell him. He had vague ideas of being paid money to do things he didnt know how to do now, but he didnt know what those things might be. He would have to be told, but how do you get told?
If he stayed with the man and the lady, they might help. But why should they want him to stay with them?

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