“Yes, but you know I had to let him go. You a friend of his? Well, he’s a very nice kid, but he’s not very smart. I gave him a fifty-dollar pipe to clean, just to get the rough stuff off the bit. He put it in the vise and smashed it. He didn’t mean to, but it belonged to a good customer. I can’t afford that. He’s a good kid. My wife had a big nose like that. But you got to be sharp in this line of work. Pay attention, you know.”

He took a coat off the wall and stuffed his pipe into a pocket. His hands were scarred. “I’m going to lunch now. You know a sharp young fella, send him around. It’s not a bad job, and you learn a skill.”

I left and walked quickly down the street. At a bus stop bench, I sat and waited to feel calm again. After a while I walked up the street and bought grapes and spinach and liver. Went off to get Rennel.

The liver was softening in the bag. I put it on the floor of the Rambler and braced my feet on either side. As he drove, Rennel pumped the little automatic shift lever. His face was set in his Grand Prix glare. I caught him watching to see if I was watching. I looked away, down to the liver bleeding on my boots.

“A girl once told me that I drive just like I screw.”

“Too fast, huh?”

We hated each other silently down the dusty road and up Sam’s drive. Angelina jumped at the windows, yelping.

“She’s as crazy as Sam.”

Rennel jammed on the brakes. The Rambler reeled and shook to a stop in the gravel. Carlotta approached with a pan in one hand. Her belly was much bigger. Her legs were brown and fuzzy, stuck out beneath the skirt of a red flowered dress.

“You could have killed her!” she cried. She threw the pot down and pulled the black dog close. Rennel slouched out of the car.

“She ran right at the car. She’s crazy.”