“‘You!’ You stupid silly spineless fool! You don’t do anything!”

“Well, that’s my job,” I said. “Not doing nothing, I mean. That’s why for people elect me.”

She whirled around so fast her skirts spun, and went out into the kitchen. I sat down at the table. I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost twelve o’clock, practically dinner time, so I didn’t eat much except some eggs and ham and grits and gravy and seven or eight biscuits, and a bitty bowl of peaches and cream.

I was having a third cup of coffee when Myra came back in. She began to snatch up the dishes, muttering to herself, and I asked her if they was something the matter.

“If they is,” I said, “you just tell me all about it, because two heads is better than one.”

“You miserable—! Aren’t you ever going to get out of here?” she yelled. “Why are you still sitting at the table?”

“Why, I’m drinking this here coffee,” I said. “You look real close an’ you can see that I am.”

“Well—well, take it with you! Drink it somewhere else!”

“You mean you want me to leave the table?” I said.

“‘Yes!’ Now, go on and do it, for pity’s sake!”

I said I plumb liked to be obliging, but if she studied it over she’d see it didn’t make much sense for me to leave the table. “I mean, it’s almost time for dinner,” I said. “You’ll be bringin’ it in any minute now, so why for should I leave when I can set right here an’ be all ready to start eatin’?”

“Y-You!” Her teeth gritted together. “‘You get out of here!’”

“Without no dinner?” I said. “You mean I got to work all afternoon on an empty stomach?”

“But you just got—” She choked up, and sagged down into a chair.

I said that was fine, she should set down and rest herself up a little, and it didn’t matter at all if dinner was maybe a minute or two late. And she said—

I don’t know what she said. We just went on talking back and forth for a while, neither of us really listening to the other. Which didn’t bother her any, since she never paid any attention to me anyhow, and to tell the truth I never actually paid a lot of attention to her, anyhow. Anyways, I couldn’t have done it today even if I’d wanted to, because I was too worried about what would happen when Tom and Uncle John were found dead.

That’s why I’d been pestering Myra, I guess. I didn’t want to get out and face up to whatever was going to happen, so I’d start gigging at her. That was kind of a habit with me, I reckon, taking it out on her when I felt bad or bothered. More of a habit than I maybe realized.

“Where at is Lennie?” I said, picking up the conversation again. “He don’t hurry up he’ll be late for dinner!”