left the house in town they’d driven back to the North Star. He’d danced with Helen for awhile, he could remember that. Then there was a fight. Some townies, some hatchet-faced woman screaming at them. The woman jumped on a man’s back. Lee remembered Maurice wading into it, moving his big fists in steady articulations, but Gilmore had disappeared altogether. Lee had been bumped by a stranger, whom Lee then struck under the eye and in the side of the head because the stranger looked like he might be thinking about it. Lee remembered the hatchet-faced woman sitting spread-legged on the concrete floor, shrieking curses. He’d walked off into the dark then and he couldn’t remember much more. A car barrelling through the night. Cigarettes. Helen’s hand squeezing up his thigh. It was Speedy’s car. What hour?
Lee piled eggs and toast onto two plates and brought them to the pullout. Helen was blinking at him. The sheets were twisted around her.
— Eat. There’s coffee.
— Aren’t you a dear.
He sat beside her with his legs up and his plate balanced across his thighs. Helen still had mascara in shrouds around her eyes. She smiled dizzily.
When they’d finished eating, Lee took their plates and stacked them on the countertop. He lit two smokes and gave her one.
— What I’m not real excited about is working tonight, said Helen.
— I’ll bet.
— So what kind of business opportunities?
— Business opportunities?
— Your friend Colin was talking about business opportunities.
— That was all talk.
— I’m guessing he didn’t mean real estate.
Lee stabbed his cigarette out: How about you don’t need to ask.
— Suit yourself.
A moment passed.
— I didn’t mean to snap at you, said Lee.
She yawned and stretched her arms: Forget it. Come here and rub my shoulders.
First, Lee turned on the television. There were Sunday morning church shows. He turned it off and went over and sat on the couch-back behind her and rubbed her shoulders. They were quiet. Then she fondled him through the thin fabric of his undershorts.
— What do we got here?
When they woke again it was early afternoon.
— Some things I’ve been thinking about, said Lee.
— What’s going on in that cute head of yours?
— Some things about me and you.
— Okay, said Helen.
— Well, things aren’t always going to be like this.
— What is
— My situation.
Helen rose up from the pullout. She went into the bathroom and Lee could hear her urinating.
She came back out, saying: Can’t we talk about this later?
— What’s wrong with right now?
— My head hurts. I don’t want to talk about these serious things.
Lee was going to say something but there was a knock on the door. Helen covered herself. Lee pulled on his jeans and the shirt he’d worn last night. The money was still in the breast pocket. He opened the door to Mr. Yoon.
— Phone for you, said Mr. Yoon.
Lee turned to Helen: Don’t go anywhere.
Lee followed Mr. Yoon down into the store. Mr. Yoon’s wife was tending the cash-out. A plastic nativity scene had been set up beside the register. Mr. Yoon led Lee to the office at the back. The telephone receiver was overturned on the desktop. Lee looked at Mr. Yoon until Mr. Yoon tightened his face and backed off to inspect cans of soup on a shelf. Lee picked up the receiver.
— Hello.
— Lee, Clifton here.
— Clifton.
— Listen Lee … That thing with Bud was a mess. The Ministry is fining me two thousand dollars. Two thousand, mister man, what do you think of that. But listen, I got some work coming up. I want to get on with it after Christmas. If you want some inside work, I got it. Some cupboards, some trim. Maybe three weeks solid.
Lee held the receiver. He traced his thumb along the edge of the desk.
— Lee.
— Yeah, Clifton.
— Thought the line cut out.
— So that thing with Bud was a
— Lee-
— Go fuck yourself. You think I ever want to kiss your ass again?
He hung the phone up. He came out of the office and passed Mr. Yoon.
— When do you work again?
— I have some things, said Lee. Not for that bastard, though. I gave you this month’s rent. You’ll get next month’s.
Back up in the apartment, Helen had put on her bra and panties and was pulling on her pantyhose.
— What are you doing?
— I have to leave more sooner than later, said Helen. I have to work.
She went into the bathroom and redefined the edges of her makeup. She sang some words from a radio song. She came out and put her clothes on.
— Do you think that Oriental will have to call a taxi for me?
— Maybe, said Lee.
She picked up her purse and looked through it: How do you like that. Brown Eyes, do you have any cash?
Lee took his wallet off the dresser and opened it. He did not want to but he counted. Seventeen dollars. Plus the fifty in his shirt pocket. He gave her five dollars and felt the money moving out of his hand. Before long she was standing in the doorway.
— The cafe is going to get real busy with the season, said Helen. So how about I’ll call you.
In the early dusk, Lee went down to the store and bought a can of Stagg chili. He cooked it on the hot plate and opened a beer. There was a science-fiction movie on television-the one where Charlton Heston had to fight a bunch of talking monkeys on horseback. Lee had seen this one when he was in jail. They’d shown pictures in the chapel.
All at once, Lee tensed up and launched the beer can at the wall. It bounced off, leaving a mark on the plaster, and what beer was in the can sprayed onto the floor.
Pete went to supper at Emily’s house on Tuesday. He hadn’t seen her since she’d gone to the city with her mother. They’d had one conversation on the telephone to confirm the dinner invitation. He did not mention having been jumped by the boys she knew.
In the driveway of Emily’s house was a police cruiser, a hard-angled Ford LTD. There was also an old GMC pickup truck and a small Volvo. A holly wreath hung on the front door of the house.
Emily’s sister, Louise, opened the door when Pete knocked. The first thing he heard inside was the piano. He knew the tune but it took him a moment to name it … “O Holy Night.” The pianist wasn’t confident yet, and the notes were hesitant and loud.
Mary Casey appeared to welcome him. Pete hoped the swelling on his brow had gone down enough not to be
