At eleven o'clock the guys sent Stony back to the Greek's with lunch orders. At eleven forty-five, Tommy, Jimmy O'Day, Eddie and Vinny came down, picked up their lunches from Stony, collected their thermos bottles from the shanty, walked off the site and sat on the grass island dividing traffic on the Henry Hudson Parkway.

"Aw Christ!" Vinny stared in disgust at his open thermos. "Look at this." He pulled out two chunks of glass that had been floating on top of the coffee. "Bastad!" He flung the broken thermos behind him. It rolled off the grass and into traffic.

"Hey, shithead!" Tommy watched the thermos roll slowly across the band of highway. They all shifted to see if the red plaid cylinder would make it. A white Ford zoomed right over it—the tires missing by six inches. "Hey!" they all shouted, ducking and shielding their faces with their arms. When the Ford passed they all laughed. A burgundy VW tore past, just missing the thermos. Again they ducked. A wood-paneled station wagon, trailing the VW, hit the thermos dead center. There was a loud pop and a crunch. The force of the crush spurt the coffee out of its container like a gigantic brown gob of spit, spraying them all. Vinny jumped up and threw his apple at the flying station wagon. Everybody was laughing and taking swipes at the coffee on their shirts and in their hair.

"Vinny, you're a real jibone, you know that?" Jimmy O'Day brushed coffee off the knees of his khaki chinos.

Eddie got up, waited for a lull in the traffic and sprinted to pick up the mangled thermos. "Look at that." He dropped it on the grass. It was crushed flat as cardboard. Jimmy O'Day picked it up with two fingers. Tiny grains of glass trickled out of what was left of the mouth.

"Hey, Vinny, that should be your head, you know that? We coulda gotten a piece a glass in our eyes." Jimmy O'Day sprayed egg salad as he talked.

"I dropped it this mornin' down a stairs. I thought maybe if I don't open it an' forget about it it won't be broken at lunch-time."

"It should be your head."

"I got enough problems." Vinny scarfed down half a salami and prosciutto sandwich. He reached for Jimmy O'Day's thermos. Jimmy O'Day snatched the thermos protectively.

"Drink piss, ya bastad!"

Vinny smiled, nodding in Jimmy O'Day's direction. "You believe this green nigger?"

Jimmy O'Day didn't respond, licking the traces of egg salad from his fingertips.

"Here." Tommy tossed a half-pint orange wax carton into Vinny's lap.

"Thanks." Vinny shook it up, peeled back the lip and chugged half the contents. "Feh!" He spit in the grass.

"Whassamattah!" Tommy sat up indignantly.

Vinny grimaced, closed the mouth of the container and tossed it back to Tommy.

"What the fuck's with you. That's good orange juice." Tommy was insulted.

"That's orange drink," Vinny said wearily.

"Bullshit!"

"Tommy, can you read?"

"Yeah, I can read."