were you in the war?” johnny asked reilly.
“uh, no, i wasn’t in any war.”
“i was in the war,” johnny repeated for the third or fourth time.
“and which war was that?’ reilly asked. “i haven’t heard of any for a while that i can remember.”
the counterman was still standing at the door looking out at the snow. he had a mean look on his face.
reilly knew him, sort of. his name was gus and we was not talkative or friendly. he looked like a guy who had done serious time in prison, probably for murder.
“i was in the war that i was in,” johnny said. “that’s why i’ve been gone.”
“and how long were you gone?” reilly asked politely. the counterman and his mean look were making reilly nervous.
“six years, i was gone six years.”
“and you were at war for six years?”
“no, of course not! the war was only four years.”
“oh, i don’t know that.” reilly tried to keep from looking at the counterman.
“all wars are four years,” johnny explained. “everybody knows that.”
suddenly the counterman turned and disappeared again into the back room. reilly felt relieved.
“all wars are four years,” johnny repeated.
“of course, of course, what was i thinking?” reilly assured johnny.
“we were on a hill,” said johnny, looking down into his coffee cup. “and there was a castle on the hill. we had to take the castle at all costs. at all costs… there were six of us left in the squad…”
*
“nothing?” carl asked gus when he returned to the back room.
“nothing. it’s snowing pretty hard. they probably got held up.”
“i don’t care how hard it’s snowing. what, they forgot their rubbers? they had to go back and get mommy to put their rubbers on ? when a guy’s supposed to show up, he’s supposed to show up.”
gus just shrugged. “well, they haven’t showed up.”
“customers still there?” carl asked.
“yeah, the same two guys. bums. all they bought was coffee.”
“and you know them, right?’
“no, i know one of them. there’s an old guy who’s a bum who’s in here all the time. and there’s a guy - a punk - i never seen before. looks a little crazy, but a punk.”
carl considered this. “you think this punk might be from connors?”
gus laughed. “no. no way. i’d bet my life on it.”
“you would, huh? you never know. go out and keep an eye on them.”
“you want me to get rid of them? i could just tell them to get lost, we’re closing because it’s snowing or something.”
“no, don’t do that. just go out and keep an eye on them. on second thought, i’ll go out and keep an eye on them myself.”
“suit yourself.”
carl heaved his heavy body up from his comfortable chair.
ohh. ohhh.
his legs and feet were killing him.
12. closing time
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