“Hokay.
But he have’m, if he want’m.”
“I’m not hungry.
I ate a big lunch.”
He acted like he had won a great victory, and now he would forgive her, like the big guy he was.
“She is a all right. She is my little white bird.
She is my little white dove.”
He winked and went upstairs.
She and I sat there, and didn’t say a word.
When he came down he had a big bottle and a guitar.
He poured some out of the bottle, but it was sweet Greek wine, and made me sick to my stomach.
He started to sing.
He had a tenor voice, not one of these little tenors like you hear on the radio, but a big tenor, and on the high notes he would put in a sob like on a Caruso record.
But I couldn’t listen to him now.
I was feeling worse by the minute.
He saw my face and took me outside.
“Out in a air, you feel better.”
“ ’S all right.
I’ll be all right.”
“Sit down.
Keep quiet.”
“Go ahead in. I just ate too much lunch.
I’ll be all right.”
He went in, and I let everything come up.
It was like hell the lunch, or the potatoes, or the wine.
I wanted that woman so bad I couldn’t even keep anything on my stomach.
Next morning the sign was blown down.
About the middle of the night it had started to blow, and by morning it was a windstorm that took the sign with it.
“It’s awful.
Look at that.”
“Was a very big wind.
I could no sleep.
No sleep all night.”
“Big wind all right.
But look at the sign.”
“Is busted.”
I kept tinkering with the sign, and he would come out and watch me.
“How did you get this sign anyway?”
“Was here when I buy the place.
Why?”
“It’s lousy all right.
I wonder you do any business at all.”
I went to gas up a car, and left him to think that over.
When I got back he was still blinking at it, where it was leaning against the front of the lunchroom.
Three of the lights were busted.
I plugged in the wire, and half of the others didn’t light.
“Put in new lights, hang’m up, will be all right.”
“You’re the boss.”
“What’s a matter with it?”
“Well, it’s out of date.