"What's wrong with them?" Peez asked the question even though she knew she'd regret it.

"Wrong? Nothing ... if you like rags! When I was first confected, these paws were suede! Now what are they? Tattered and frayed, worn down to chiffon, do you hear me? To chiffon! Would it kill you to pick up a needle and thread, give them a stitch here, a stitch there, maybe even applique a fresh set of pads onto them? But no. That you don't have time for. But for quitting, for giving up, for throwing in the goddam towel, for that you've got all the time in the world! For that you make time!"

Peez sighed. "Right now I'm tempted to ask directions to the Grand Canyon and drive us both over the edge," she said. "That's sure as hell where you're driving me. I don't know why you're carrying on like a crazy thing: I said I changed my mind. Or did you just stop listening to me at the point where you could start hollering your lint-filled head off for no good reason? Read my lips: I'm not going to quit the battle for the company directorship."

"Oh, puh-lease." Teddy Tumtum sneered better than a corps of trained sixteen-year- old mall rats. "So you're not quitting. Read my mouth stitches: Biiig deeal. You say you're back in the fight, but as what? A five-star general or some poor moop who got drafted when he wasn't looking?"

"What makes you think I won't give this everything I've got?"

"Don't try to fool me: I can tell. Who knows you, baby? You're still facing the fight of your financial life with that cutthroat baby brother of yours, and you're just gonna phone it in. And why? Because ittoo Peezie-pie went and gots her dewicate iwooshuns awww bwoke. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Po', po' ickle Peezie."

"I got my what broke?" Peez asked.

"Your illusions," the bear said, dropping the baby talk. "So the Reverend Everything's all about show biz, and Ray Rah's gang is all partay and pretending to be young, and Fiorella gave you the brush-off, and Agparak gave you— Okay, so maybe you did get something good out of that visit, but still, you're sniveling around because Edwina's top clients either don't want to know you or you don't want to know them. Why? Because you think they're phonies. So what? The checks don't bounce."

"Teddy Tumtum, it's not just about the money."

"What, do I look like I was stuffed yesterday? It is so too!"

Peez shook her head and fixed her eyes on the road. "There's no talking to you when you're like this," she said. "I give up."

"Yes, you're good at that," said Teddy Tumtum, smugly getting in the last word.

* * *

"Mr. Turkey Feather, I presume?" Peez said, extending her hand to the Native American spiritual leader. They had met, as previously arranged, outside The Gap. (To quote Sam, "These days it's the closest we can come to heading someone off at the pass.") "Or do you prefer Turkey Plucker?"

Sam's eyes opened a little wider in pleased surprise. "How did you know that?"

"I like to do my research," Peez replied. "I feel it's a courtesy to the client to know everything you can about him or her."

"Commendable. May I take your bag, Ms. Godz?"

"What bag?" Peez looked to left and right, puzzled. She'd left her carryon safely locked away in the rental car.

"The one with your chief research assistant packed inside," Sam said. "The bear?"

"How do you know about Teddy Tumtum?" Peez blurted.

The Native American laughed. "You're not the only one who does research. If we both make it a point to know as much about the other as possible, we can call it courtesy instead of espionage. And yes, I would prefer if you called me by Turkey Plucker, though if you really want to know what I'd like the most, just call me Sam."

"Only if you call me Peez." The pair of them exchanged smiles that were not in Dov's extensive repertoire.

Soon thereafter they were riding along the highway in Sam's truck. Teddy Tumtum, retrieved from the carry-on bag in the rental car trunk, was pressed against the windshield singing Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer at the top of his stockinette lungs.

"You were the one who insisted on bringing him," Peez said to Sam. "Happy about it now?"

"I can take it," Sam replied, his jaw set in grim determination. "I keep telling myself that after everything else my people have endured at the hands of the White Man, an obnoxious stuffed bear is no biggie."

"Is it working?"

"No. Right now I'm ranking him somewhere between broken treaties and smallpox- infected blankets."

"Hey, I resent that!" Teddy Tumtum interrupted his droning song to voice his objection, then groused: "Damn. Now I lost my place. I'll have to start all over from the beginning. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of— YEEE!"

Sam stopped the truck. "You really shouldn't have thrown him out the window, Peez."

"I know." Peez's head drooped in contrition. "But it just felt so good!"

It took her the better part of an hour to find the little bear again. After spending that much time out in the midday sun, the initial thrill of pitching him out the window was well and truly gone.

"There you are!" Peez panted when she finally laid hands on him once more. The little bear had been sprawled in the shade of a cactus plant. "Why didn't you say something to let me know where to find you? I tried invoking your homing hex, but it didn't work, for some reason." She gave him a suspicious look. "Did you disable it, Teddy Tumtum?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." Teddy Tumtum made an art of sarcastic payback. "I was under the impression that you didn't want to hear from me ever again. My goodness gracious me, wherever might I have gotten that idea? Oooh, could it have been something as trivial as being flung out the window of a speeding truck?!"

"Oh, calm down. You're stuffed. You bounce. The fall didn't hurt you."

"Maybe not my body." Teddy Tumtum sniveled and wiped invisible tears from his eyes. " 'Ooo went and bwoke my ickle heart. Bitch."

Peez laughed. "That's my Teddy Tumtum!" She gave him a hug and climbed back into Sam's truck.

"Found him?" Sam asked casually. "Way to go." He started up the truck again and drove on. Throughout the whole search-and-rescue operation, he had remained comfortably ensconced in the air-conditioned cab, letting Peez do all the work of finding the bear. Now it was time for a reckoning.

"Yes, I found him," Peez said angrily. "Not thanks to you, might I add."

"None expected. I wasn't the one who threw him out the window."

"Maybe not, but you've got to admit, you shared the benefit of it."

Sam shrugged. "I get a lot of that response from you city folk. First you do something I didn't ask for, maybe even something I never wanted, then you tell me I benefited from it so it's my duty to share the cost. But do you ever ask me if I think the results help me live my life more comfortably, or did they just help you advance your idea of how you think I'm supposed to be living?"

"Wow," said Teddy Tumtum. "That's an awful lot of resentment you're harboring just over tossing a teddy bear out of a truck."

"Friend, I've got resentment I've hardly used," Sam said. "The good news is, I don't think I'll ever bother using it. I've got better things to do."

"Like fleecing the woo-woos and wannabes of their wampum," the bear said. "We read the reports on your operation before we came here. Take one clutch of yuppies, stick 'em in the desert, hand them a rattle, a bottle of designer-label spring water, tell them that their true name is Squatting Iguana or Dances-With-Dot-Coms, and have them sign on the dotted line of any major credit card slip. Ka-ching! Money is the— YEEE!"

Peez looked accusingly at Sam. "Okay, this time you find him."

Sam pulled the truck over. "Sure you want him found?"