ored refrigerator. A waitress leaned against the wall by a
kitchen door and lit a cigarette.

The man's voice rose and fell. There was a question of hinging. To
hinge or not. Maybe a plain top with a handle? A hinge, but--you didn't
want the top just flopping around. "I got me some light brass chain,
put about fifteen inches on each side, inside, running to the underside
of the top. Little screw in each end. Not going to pull out _those_
hinges."

The other man shook his head.

"I sanded her up good--you know--finished it nice."

The waitress bent forward and tapped her cigarette on an ashtray hidden
behind the counter. "You want more coffee, Herbert?"

"Don't believe I will." Herbert turned to his friend. "What do you say?"

"Don't get paid for sitting."

They left and the waitress cleared their places, sweeping a tip into
her pocket. She turned toward Will. "More coffee?"

He pushed his mug forward. "Thanks." He could see the box now. It was
solid. It had a quiet glow.

"Long night?"

"Yes." It hurt to think about it. He was still disoriented. The diner
had appeared in the night like a miracle. "We all got troubles, I
guess," he said to break the silence.

"What's her name?"

"Heidi," he said, surprised. The name tore through him.

"Heidi, huh." The waitress took a drag from her cigarette. "You're a
good looking guy. She good looking?"

He could have said, not like you, but he didn't have it in him. He
nodded.

"It's hard sometimes," she said. "I don't mean to be telling you what
to do, but you might feel better if you cleaned up a little, got those
pieces of leaf or whatever out of your hair." Will reached up and felt
the back of his head.

"I slept in the woods a couple of hours."

"You look it. Your mother'd give you hell."

"Don't have a mother."

"Oh. I _am_ a nosy bitch."

"You're not a bitch," Will said. It was important to get something
right. "You're not a bitch. I was at a concert. We were."

"You and Heidi."

"And a bunch of her friends. It was at Cornell. String quartet. I had
to wear a tie."

"Guess you got rid of the tie."

"It's in the car--with the rest of the uniform. I'm in the service, the
Air Force. Only dress up clothes I had."

"My brother was in the Navy twenty years. Gets a check now, every
month."

"I won't make twenty."

"I've never been to a quartet," she said. "Cornell is big bucks."

"The music was great. Haydn. But her friends were laughing at me.
W