Before George’s eyes came to a scene like this: Miss Beck was in her bedroom, with a framed photo of Audrey in her lap. George, darling, did you come all over Connecticut? How nice. The woman’s tongue was slurred; She must have gotten drunk she. Will there be a charity like a funeral? Of course, if I’m not late … He heard a sigh from the other end of the line. Miss Beck could also have inhaled cigarette smoke. There will be a funeral. It will surely happen. We want to bury our little girl, but they say we can’t do it right now … Oh my God! The woman’s voice trembled as she said the funeral. “Sorry,” George said. I guess you shouldn’t have called you at all. There was no immediate response to this promise; Once again, Mr. Beck’s voice rang out as George contemplated hanging up the phone. Who is there? It’s still mine. George Fos p. Damn! What did you want? Sorry sir, I don’t really know what I want either. I was hoping to attend your daughter’s funeral, maybe get some information and give some meaning to what happened.
Realizing that what he said was not working, George changed tactics. I also brought flowers. I’d like to bring this there. “You may come sometime tomorrow,” Mr. Beck said after a short silence. Thank you sir. My future. After George hung up the phone, he lay down on the bed exhausted — his shoulders were constricted and his temples pounding. He was thoroughly hungry for eating nothing but two apples at noon. He contemplated going to Slioey’s next door and buying a hamburger and a glass of milk. But even thinking about the effort it would take to do so increased his exhaustion. 87 When his maturity pushed my hunger to the background, he went under the blanket, pressed one of the pillows to his chest, and fell into a deep sleep. The next morning, after eating scrambled eggs and ham in Shoıtcys, he walked to the adjacent Land of the Second Hand Automobile Palace. ‘ How can I help you? said a chunky man with pink cheeks and a tan suit. Having rehearsed how to approach during breakfast, George cleared his nose and said, “I was in a dilemma and I hope you can help,” he said. The man smiled. Well, son. Tell me. His bright purple tie was the same color as the handkerchief hanging from the front pocket of his jacket. I’m eighteen, but I need a car for a few days. I’ll accept whatever car you give me and leave you my family’s credit card. I am a good driver and pay cash. The man laughed. This is the first time that is happening to me. He threw his head back and exhaled through the black hairy nostrils. I’ll tell you what. I have a good offer for you: My worker, who works with me, got his eleventh sick leave this year. My worker spoke his words like he was spitting. I have to hand over some documents and get two signatures, and these things have to be done by noon. If you do this job for me, I can give you one of my cars for free. Provided, of course, not to leave Manatee County. “OK,” George said. But I don’t know this area at all.