Θυμάρι

So long, and thanks for all the fish !

Low Men In Yellow Coats – Stephen KIng

Although Randall had been dead ever since Truman was President and now Eisenhower was almost done with his eight-year cruise, Your father didn’t exactly leave us well off was still his mother’s most common response to anything Bobby suggested which might entail an expenditure of more than a dollar. Usually the comment was accompanied by a reproachful look, as if the man had run off rather than died.              

 ******

That night Bobby Garfield experienced another aspect of adult: he lay awake until well after his Big Ben alarm clock said it was two in the morning, looking up at the ceiling and wondering if he had done the right thing.

****** 

Bobby hurried downstairs, again struck by how sharp everything seemed to be: the brilliance of the light slanting through the window on the second-floor landing, a ladybug crawling around the lip of an empty milk-bottle outside the door of the Proskys’ apartment, a sweet high humming in his ears that was like the voice of the day — the first Saturday of summer vacation.

******

Did nervous make you cry? Bobby wondered. Maybe so, if you were a grownup — especially a female grownup.

****** 

 Bobby could hear the hisha-hisha of lawn-sprinklers, and, from the other side of the block, the endless roop-roop-roop of Bowser. Bowser sounded the same whether it was June or January; to Bobby Garfield, Bowser seemed as changeless as God.

****** 


‘Howya doin, Sport, howza boy?’ Mr Biderman always called Bobby Sport. ‘Lug em around back and I’ll slide em in. Women always hafta bring the farm, don’t they? Well, you know the old saying — can’t live with em, can’t shoot em outside the state of Montana.’

****** 

 Bobby stood by the desk as if rooted, but Len hadn’t said anything about not looking around, and so he did — in all directions. The walls were covered with beer signs and calendars that showed girls with most of their clothes off. One was climbing over a fence in the country. Another was getting out of a Packard with most of her skirt in her lap and her garters showing. Behind the desk were more signs, most expressing some negative concept(IF YOU DON’T LIKE OUR TOWN LOOK FOR A TIMETABLE, DON’T SEND A BOY TO DO A MAN’S JOB, THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS A FREE LUNCH, NO CHECKS ACCEPTED, NO CREDIT, CRYING TOWELS ARE NOT PROVIDED BY THE MANAGEMENT) and a big red button marked POLICE CALL. Suspended from the ceiling on a loop of dusty wire were Cellophane packages, some marked ginseng oriental love root and others spanish delite. Bobby wondered if they were vitamins of some kind. Why would they sell vitamins in a place like this?


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