She nodded.
'It sounds like interesting work.'
She looked away from me, toward a painting of a fat redheaded nude woman.
'Take this,' I said, holding my hand out toward her.
She looked at the hand, then at me. 'What's that?'
'Fifty bucks change. I worked five days. You gave me a hundred.'
'Keep it' she said.
'Quit pouting and take the money, goddamnit.'
She glared at me and grabbed the money out of my hand; stuffed it in her little black purse. Apparently she was a free spirit who didn't like getting sweared at.
The ham sandwich came and it was thin and stale and as bad as I remembered the chicken. The tea was okay; it tasted vaguely of oranges. I liked it. She drank hers, too, but whether she liked it or not, I can't tell you.
When we finished, I helped her into her coat and I paid and we went out onto the chilly street; it wasn't snowing, but the wind was still blowing around the snow we already had.
'You want a lift?' I asked her.
'I can walk; it isn't far.'
'It's cold. My car's just down the block there. See? Come on.'
She shrugged, hugging her black fur collar up around her face, falling into step with me.
I helped her up onto the running board and inside, and got around on the driver's side and got in and started it up.
'I got a heater in this thing.' I said, getting that going.
'That's nice.' she said noncommittally.
'Where to?'
'East Chestnut.' She gave me a street address.
I drove.
'Who was that guy who answered the phone when I called today?'
'That's Alonzo.'
'Oh? Who's Alonzo?'
'He's a painter.'
'What's he paint?'
As if to a child, she said, 'Pictures.'
'What kind?'
'Experiments in dynamic symmetry, if you must know.'
'Oh. Where's he live?'
'With me.'
'Oh.'
It was dark now, though my headlights caught the swirling snow; over on the right, two men walked hand in hand. That didn't surprise me, not in Tower Town. Just like Mary Ann living with some guy called Alonzo didn't surprise me; it disappointed me. but it didn't surprise me: it wasn't uncommon to see two names on a mailbox in this neighborhood- one a man's, the other a woman's. Unmarried couples were part and parcel of Tower Town like the talk of free love and individualism. Women in Tower Town liked to hold on to their individuality, and their independence- and their names.
After a while, I pulled over and she started to get out.
Tllwalkyou,'Isaid.
She looked at me; thought that over. Then shrugged.
I turned the car off and followed her down the boardwalk sidewalk to a dilapidated four-story frame building. The entrance was in the alley, up an outdoor staircase that was painted red, perhaps as a political symbol, perhaps symbolizing that one took one's life in hand as well as the flimsy banister when going up those creaky' stairs.
We entered a small kitchen furnished with a table, a one-burner oil stove, and a chair; there was a sink with some dirty dishes in it, and a cupboard- no icebox. The walls were bare yellow plaster, cracking; pieces had fallen off. She lay her coat and beret on the table, and said. 'Would you like some tea?'
'Sure,' I said.
'Take off your coat and stay awhile.' she said flatly, filling an oddly shaped copper teapot at the sink.
I lay my coat on top of hers.
'Go on in and meet Alonzo,' she suggested.
What the hell. I thought; I went in and met Alonzo.
