PICK-UP by Charles Willeford

Author:Charles Willeford
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: マイコンテンツ
Published: 2011-01-27T05:06:30.191000+00:00

12. The Dregs

I didn't sleep all night. I sat in the chair by the dark window with the lights out while Helen slept. I didn't try to think about anything, but kept my mind as blank as possible. When I did have a thought it was disquieting and ugly and I would get rid of it by pushing it to the back of my mind like a pack rat trading a rock for a gold nugget.

Vitale would be stuck again for a fry cook when I didn't show up, but it couldn't be helped. To leave Helen to her own devices would be foolish. When I thought about how close I came to losing her my heart would hesitate, skip like a rock on water and then beat faster than ever. I had a day's pay coming from Vitale that I would never collect. It would take more nerve than I possessed to ask him for it. I decided to let it go.

The night passed, somehow, and as soon as the gray light hit the window I left the room and walked down the block to the delicatessen. It wasn't quite six and I had to wait for almost ten minutes before Mr. Watson opened up. I had enough money with some left over for a half-pint of whiskey and Mr. Watson pursed his lips when he put it in a sack for me.

“Most of my customers this early buy milk and eggs, Harry,” he said.

“Breakfast is breakfast.” I said lightly and the bells above the door tinkled as I closed it behind me.

When I got back to the room, I brought the T-bone inside from the window sill, opened the package and smelled them. They seemed to be all right and I lit the burner and dropped one in the frying pan and sprinkled it with salt. I made coffee on the other burner and watched the steak for the exact moment to turn it. To fry a steak properly it should only be turned one time. Helen awoke after awhile, got out of bed without a word or a glance in my direction and went to the bathroom. The steak was ready when she got back and I had it on a plate at the table.

“How'd you like a nice T-bone for breakfast?” I asked her.

“Ugh!” She put her feet into slippers and wrapped a flowered robe around her shoulders. “I'll settle for coffee.”

I poured two cups of coffee and Helen joined me at the table. I shoved the half-pint across the table and she poured a quarter of the bottle into her coffee. I started in on the steak. We both carefully avoided any reference to the Marines or the afternoon before.

“This a day off, Harry?” Helen asked after she downed half of her laced coffee.

“No. I quit.”

“Good.”

“But I'm a little worried.”

“What about?” She asked cautiously.

“Damned near everything. Money, for one thing, and I'm worried about you, too.”

“I'm all right.”

“You're drinking more than you did before, and you aren't eating.

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