“That’s prob’ly why you slept so good,” she said. “My voice is a very soothing quality. —Anyway,” she continued her dream story, “we could hear the woman callin’ us, but we just stayed put, him on one branch, me on the other.”

“What woman?”

“Oh, just some Miss Hoozit we was boardin’ with at the time. After m’folks died, me and Willy boarded out all sorts of places. But this Miss Hoozit was the last one, ‘cause after that I run off by myself.”

“Without your brother?”

“Just me alone. ‘Cause Willy’d already had his accident. He fell off the high branch. Y’see, he was tryin’ to fly. Cutest thing, believed every word I told him. I used to tell him when his wings got big enough, we’d fly away together, and he believed me. Every day that summer, he’d say, ‘Shirley, are they big enough yet?’ And I’d say, ‘Not quite, Willy, but pretty soon!’ And then one day, he di’nt ask me. He just took it on hisself to try.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then Clinton said, “Is that what you dream about?”

“Mm-hmm. Except in the dream, him and me both, we just fly all over the country together, we go whippin’ right through the air to North Dakota and Delaware and Greece. Even Colorado and Panama City. And we stop on various trees to rest and sing songs.”

“Where’d you fly to tonight?”

“No place special. I just sang while you slept.”

Clinton said: “You know, I hate to change the subject, but I got two things I want to say. One of them is, I’m gettin’ to where I like you a whole lot; and the other one is, I’m gettin’ awful hungry.”

Shirley jumped to her feet. “You want candy?” She went to the bureau. In the top drawer she found a jar of Hershey’s kisses. “I keep ‘em in a jar so they won’t get ants.” She took off the lid and handed it to Clinton. He began to unwrap the little silver pyramids of chocolate and stuff them into his mouth. “If you want to,” Shirley said, “you just eat every last one of ‘em. You want me to send down for more? ‘Cause all I have to do is go to the head of the stairs and holler. . . .”

She started toward the door. Clinton stopped her. “Hey, Shirley, don’t do that. I won’t eat but one or two of ‘em, anyway. But thanks an awful lot. I’m just crazy about these things.”

“You really like ‘em?”

“I really do. Whenever I see ‘em anywhere, I get some. ‘Cause they’re just fabulous. Want me to unwrap you some?”

“I shoulda thought about you bein’ hungry.”

“I wasn’t, though, till just a minute ago.”

They sat facing each other in the big wicker armchairs, Shirley hugging her legs under the big pajama top, Clinton unwrapping the candy. They smoked cigarettes, too, and they were both wide awake.