Evening star., 1941-05-11
II Short Story Complete in This Issue


HE fair and slender and resilient as swamp grass
Quiet, with the deep quiet of the backwoods she had
enormous gray eyes from which hunger often stared, the
great unfulhled hunger of approaching thirty who
walks alone in the world.
Apron snug about her waist she stood in the semi
darkness of the with her eyes fastened clock
above the bar Suppose he doesn't today Suppose he's
like those Others who for while then dted away?
But he isn't she told herself fercey know he isn't Still he
hardly looked her rarely talked her. had not
once attempted to date her.
1t was puzzlng completely beyond her understanding of
the of AT first his md, almost shy had
attracted her to him. But she had only one wish - to
tear away 1t something besides shyness deeper
than that, much deeper He reminded her of the deer
her childhood had to the edge of the clearing only be
the sign of the slightest Night after night
she had lain awake trying to find the key the puzzle
So wrapped her thoughts she that she failed hear
the boss approach Only when he stood her side rocking
gently on his feet did she become aware of him.
incoming, kd?' he said esngy.
Guly she averted her gaze from the clock and busted
herself placing the cutlery.
The elderly smiled Amt you even gon' to mop EN-
down first Mabe Bshing she swept the cutlery from the
table top.
stop woryn kid the boss said in kindly voice Hell
be here
II wasn't worrying none was just thinking -
Thinking that maybe he wouldn't show today, hey kid?
The laughed started rocking again Look Mabel you
amt no baby. You're grown your eyeteeh Why do
you think he stops in here every morning."
Mabel looked at him There Fuckers of fun the
of his He stood at her side pudgy of fifty
five exudng endness his hands thrust deep the pockets
of gray linen work coat.
Then you We noticed him too, she said
Noticed him! He'll kid he's famous guy
Il don't mean like that. mean comm in here and stopping
at my table and sttin and and all that kind of stuff
Look, this is little dive of bar the back road He
don't have to stop here. Not sixteen days runnn' The
Rooney Plazan Il take him in He nudged her with elbow
You tell me why you think he stops here?'
Il don't know" she said helpessly. Il wish did"
Look, he in morning He goes the bar and
orders highball Does he drink it?'
NO she said in low voice.
Then you bring him breakfast He messes around little
with his fork but does he eat it,?
She shook her head.
Then why does he Gomez To me- Not your tintype
He you kid and nobody else He patted her
shoulder so stop moonn around and get those tables
Moonn amt goin to bring him no quicker"
Shelooked up gratefully from her moppng Thanks boss
she said Thanks a lot
Nlethodcay she worked her tables The restaurant
full of the buzz of flies and the smell of cooking and stale
beer breeze ratified the palm fronds against
the copper screening and set the scrolls of fly
paper swinging gently to and fro. Doggedy
she kept her back to the clock.
He isn't comm she thought. don't care
what the boss says Her hands slled on the
polished top. Comes that's
laugh If he does what's he afraid of Why
don't he talk? Why don't he say something?
He don't even look, much less talk. Suppose
he doesnt even come to see me? Suppose the
boss wrong and what l feel inside of me is
wrong, and he just for the drink he
barely touches, or the eggs he hardly eats? G,
Her head bent over the table Please, God. ~
she prayed inwardly please have it that he -
comes to see me- Gripping the edge of the w