“Nobody can get in if it’s locked.
I got some cooking to do.
I’ll wash up this plate.”
I took her in my arms and mashed my mouth up against hers....
“Bite me! Bite me!”
I bit her. I sunk my teeth into her lips so deep I could feel the blood spurt into my mouth.
It was running down her neck when I carried her upstairs.
Chapter 3
For two days after that I was dead, but the Greek was sore at me, so I got by all right.
He was sore at me because I hadn’t fixed the swing door that led from the lunchroom into the kitchen.
She told him it swung back and hit her in the mouth.
She had to tell him something. Her mouth was all swelled up where I had bit it.
So he said it was my fault, that I hadn’t fixed it.
I stretched the spring, so it was weaker, and that fixed it.
But the real reason he was sore at me was over the sign.
He had fallen for it so hard he was afraid I would say it was my idea, stead of his.
It was such a hell of a sign they couldn’t get it done for him that afternoon.
It took them three days, and when it was ready I went in and got it and hung it up.
It had on it all that he had drew on the paper, and a couple of other things besides.
It had a Greek flag and an American flag, and hands shaking hands, and Satisfaction Guaranteed.
It was all in red, white, and blue Neon letters, and I waited until dark to turn on the juice.
When I snapped the switch, it lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Well, I’ve seen many a sign in my time, but never one like that. I got to hand it to you, Nick.”
“By golly. By golly.”
We shook hands. We were friends again.
Next day I was alone with her for a minute, and swung my fist up against her leg so hard it nearly knocked her over.
“How do you get that way?” She was snarling like a cougar.
I liked her like that.
“How are you, Cora?”
“Lousy.”
From then on, I began to smell her again.
One day the Greek heard there was a guy up the road undercutting him on gas. He jumped in the car to go see about it.
I was in my room when he drove off, and I turned around to dive down in the kitchen.
But she was already there, standing in the door.
I went over and looked at her mouth.
It was the first chance I had had to see how it was. The swelling was all gone, but you could still see the tooth marks, little blue creases on both lips.
I touched them with my fingers. They were soft and damp.
I kissed them, but not hard.
They were little soft kisses.
I had never thought about them before.
She stayed until the Greek came back, about an hour.
We didn’t do anything.
We just lay on the bed.
She kept rumpling my hair, and looking up at the ceiling, like she was thinking.
“You like blueberry pie?”
“I don’t know.
Yeah.
I guess so.”
“I’ll make you some.”
“Look out, Frank. You’ll break a spring leaf.”