Halfway through his shower, he knew that that was what he was going to do. He packed a shoulder-bag, took a couple more painkillers, and walked out into the living room. "Guys, I'm going to Madison. I'll be back in a day or two. We'll work everything out over the phone, OK?" Lester and Suzanne came over to him. "You going to be OK, buddy?" Lester said. "I'll be fine," he said. "We can spring her from here," Tjan said. "We have the Internet, you know." "I know," Perry said. "You do that, OK? And tell her I'll be there as soon as I can." The security at the airport went bonkers over him. The perfect storm: a fresh arrest, a suspicious cast, and a ticket bought with cash. He missed the first two flights to Chicago, but by mid-afternoon he was landing at O'Hare and submitting to an interim screening procedure before boarding for Madison. His phone rang in the middle of the screening, and the wrinkly old TSA goon-lady primly informed him that he might as well get that since once the phone rings, they have to start the procedure over again. "Tjan," he said. "They can't spring her today. Tomorrow, though." He closed his eyes and shut out the TSA goon. She had a huge bouffant of copper hair, and a midwesterner's sense of proportionality when it came to eye-shadow and rouge. She was the kind of woman who could call you "honey" and make it sound like "Islamofascist faggot." "Why not, Tjan?" There was a pause. "She's in the infirmary and they won't release her until tomorrow." "Infirmary." "Nothing serious -- she took a knock on the head and they want to hold her for observation." He pictured a copper's electrified billy-club coming down on shining blond hair and felt like throwing up. "Perry? Buddy. She's OK, really. I had our lawyer visit her in the prison infirmary and she swears she looks great. The lawyer's name is Candice -- take a cab to her office from the airport. OK?" "Why is she in the prison infirmary, Tjan? Why can't she be moved to a real hospital?" "It's just a liability thing. The police don't want to risk the suit if she goes complicated on them between hospitals." "Jesus." "Seriously, she's fine. We've got a good lawyer on the scene." But Perry had a bad feeling. The TSA goon picked up on it and gave him a little bit of extra attention. Acting nervous or agitated in an airport was a one-way ticket to a cavity search. But then he was lifting off and headed for Madison, and though the time crawled on the one-hour flight, it was, after all, only an hour. He even napped briefly, though a sky marshall woke him shortly after for a random bag-search. His fellow passengers -- badly dressed midwesterners and a couple of hipster students -- all turned their bags out in the cramped cabin and then got back in their seats for the landing.