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Page 107 text:
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SAINT BUTCH Mike bent at the middle so he could get a better line on the five ball he was trying to put in the corner pocket. I tell ya, I don't know what's got into Butch the last couple of days, said Mike, taking careful aim, he ain't natural no more. A moment later the five ball dropped into the corner pocket and Big Mike straightened up and began rubbing the end of his cue with blue chalk. I seen him last night for the first time in a week and he hardly knowed me. 'HeIlo', he says. And then walks on down the street a ways. 'The boys will be pretty sore if you don't show up no more,' I calls after him. Mike put his blue chalk down and spoke directly to his friend who was waiting for his shot at the other end of the table. And then what'd ya think he done? , asked Mike. What? replied the friend with not much interest. Why, he just turns around and sad-like he says, 'Tell the boys I ain't com- ing around no more. Tell 'em I've gone goodl' That's all he says, and then he goes on down the street. Well, I stands there a minute. That ain't at all like Butch. Well, then I comes over here for a game of pool before I tell the boys. No, that ain't at all like Butch , said Mike again. Concern was in his voice. - Butch's had a jolt , spoke the friend, a hard jolt . Has one of them croakers found cancer? Asked Mike, alarmed. it No, not that , replied his friend. . T. B.? , whispered Mike. No, no he's all right-that is he's all right physically . He ain't-he ain't ripe for the booby hatch? , asked Mike and there was real concern in his voice this time. No, he isn't crazy--at least not in the way you would think. He's just kinda different now, that's all . How different? You could tell Mike was interested by the way he missed the side pocket and then leaned forward on his cue, waiting for his friend to answer his question. Well, it's a fairly long story , began the friend, sizing up the six ball and then sinking it with a padded thud. And maybe Butch wouldn't want me to tell it around, but I guess it won't do no harm to tell you . Mike was interested. Shoot , He said. Well, it was a couple days ago and I was sitting here waiting for some- body to come around. The joint was empty because it was still early morn- ing. I was about to give up and go to Charley's when in walks Butch. He was kinda nervis and jumpy and his face was like ashes. Here Mike moved aside to let his friend make the seven ball. 97
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Page 106 text:
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REVERIE l loved you once Long weary years ago When the earth was young And the steam rose from innumerable marshes Choked with reeds. Giant trees reared their great heads Toward the gray sky And long streamers of moss Hung from their hoary boughs. Beyond the marshes was the sea Remember The wide gray sea And the cold, gray sand? There was no sound Only the gentle soughing of the sea And even that was taint, Very faint. We were not visible But we were there Because I remember the long gray days And the long gray nights And your presence Beside me. Drifting, dreaming, Never stirring, Only gazing silently With the dreaming eyes Ot our souls At life . . . That hadn't begun, At death . . . That had always been there. Through the ages Drifting, drifting . . Do you remember? HEATHER BASTIAN
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Page 108 text:
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So right away I asks him what's the matter. 'Nothing', he says. And right there, I knew there is something the matter. 'Did you pull a bum job last night?', I asks him. When he hears this, he looks at me kinda funny and then right away he says. 'Oh, nothing like thatl No', he says, 'nothing like that'. 'The cops ain't gotcha for that guy you bumped the other night?' I says. And then what do you think he answers? What? Asked Mike. Well, he looked at me kinda funny and then he says, 'Please, please try and forget that, will ya pleasel' Mike opened his eyes a little wider at this sign of weakness in Butch. The friend sank the eight ball with calm deliberation and then continued. Well, pretty soon I gets him to tell me all about it, and Mike I tell ya he's a changed man. Well, what's eatin him! Mike spat at the floor, a little annoyed with Butch's sudden change. This is what he told me, began the friend again. lt seems that the night after Butch bumped that railroad dick, he's sitting in the barber chair reading the evening paper when he stumbles on to a account of the shoot- ing. lt seems that the dick had a wife and a kid, a little boy, and the whole family was pretty bad off, no means of support or nothing. Well, for some reason this makes Butch sad. Butch has changed, said Mike simply. And so the next morning he goes over to the widow's house to look things over and see maybe if he can't help out. Here Mike's friend sank the nine ball and shrugged his broad shoulders. Lord knows what he thought he could do, after him making her a widow: but over he went and of course the widow's in there crying her eyes out. Butch don't know what to do, so he stands on the sidewalk for about an hour, and then, all of a sudden he gets the idea that maybe if he offered them a little money, they would stop all that crying and everything would be all right again. So up he goes and rings the door bell, but nobody answers, so he walks in and there sitting in the front room is the kid. He ain't but about four- teen years old, so Butch goes over to the kid and tries to get chummy, talk- ing to the kid and telling him everything's going to be all right, when all of a sudden the kid picks up a book he's got there and starts reading. 'Do a good deed every day'3 says the book. And when Butch hears this, it sortive knocks him for a loop, and he can't do nothing but stand there quiet. Pretty soon the kid puts the book down and starts crying again, so Butch goes away from there, but he don't get very far from the house, when this 'Do a good deed every day' hits him smack-dab in the face again. I got a funny feeling all over, says Butch. I got to do a good deed quick! 98
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