deserves those
memorable words from the Bible: ’Well done, good and faithful
servant‘!” some days—and then raw stuff from the kitchen. Potatoes and
x apples and stuff.“
“Annie pressed her lips together. She ain’t a morning person, her.
But it felt so good to be waking up at Annie’s place that I forgot
that, me. She said, ”The food would rot in just two-three days. I don’t
want, me, to have a lot of half-rotten stuff around here. It ain’t
clean.“
“Then we’ll throw it out, us, and get some more.” I spoke gentle.
Annie don’t like things to be different than they’ve always been.
Lizzie said, “Billy, you think, you, that kitchen is fixed yet?”
I said, “I don’t know, sweetheart. Let’s go look, us. Better get
dressed.”
Annie said, “She got to go, her, to the baths first. She stinks. Me,
too. You walk us, Billy?”
“Sure.” What good did she think an old wreck like me’d be against
rabid coons? But I’d of walked Annie past them demons she believes in.
Lizzie
said, “Billy, you think, you, that kitchen is fixed
yet?”
There wasn’t no raccoons near the baths. The men’s bath was empty
except for Mr. Keller, who’s so old I don’t think even he remembers if
he’s got a first name, and two little boys who shouldn’t of been there
alone, them. But they were having themselves a wonderful splashing
time. I liked watching them, me. They cheered up the morning.
Mr. Keller told me the cafe kitchen was fixed. I walked Annie and
Lizzie
,
sweet-clean as berries in the dew, to get our breakfast. But the cafe
was full, it, not just with Livers eating but of donkeys making a holo
of Congresswoman Janet Carol Land.
It was her, all right. No tape. She stood in front of the foodbelt,
which offered the usual soysynth eggs, bacon, cereals, and breads, plus
some fresh genemod strawberries. I don’t like genemod strawberries, me.
They might keep for weeks, but they never taste like them little wild
sweet berries that grow on the hillsides in June.
“. - . serving her people with the best she has, no matter the need,
no matter the hour, no matter the emergency,” said a handsome donkey
into a camera ‘bot. “Janet Carol Land, on the spot to serve East
Oleanta—on the spot to serve
you
. A politician who deserves
those memorable words from the Bible: ’Well done, good and faithful
servant‘!”
Land railed. She was a looker, her, the way donkey women are when
they’re not young: fine soft skin and pink lips and hair in pretty
silver waves. Too skinny, though. Not like Annie. Who pressed her
dark-berry lips together like she was going to squeeze cider with them.
Land said to the handsome man, “Thank you, Royce. As you know, the
cafe is the heart of any aristo town. That’s why when a cafe
malfunctions, I move heaven and earth to get it operable again. As
these good citizens of East Oleanta can attest.”
“Let’s talk to some of them,” Royce said, showing all his teeth. He
and Land walked to a table where Jack Sawicki sat, him, looking‘
cornered. “Mayor Sawicki, what do you think of the service
Congresswoman Land provided your town today?”
Paulie Cenverno looked up, him, from where he ate at the next table.
With him was Celie Kane. Annie’s lower lip trembled itself into a
half-grin, half-wince.
Jack said miserably, “We’re awful happy, us, that the foodbelt’s
fixed, and we—”
“When you fuckers gonna get them rabid raccoons killed?” Celie
demanded.
Royce’s face froze, it. “I don’t think—”
“You better think, you, and think hard about them coons, or you and
the Congresswoman gonna be thinking about new jobs!”
“Cut,” Royce said. “Don’t worry, Janet, we’ll edit it.” His smile
looked like it was foamed onto his face, but I saw his eyes, me, and I
looked away. My fighting days are over, unless I have to fight for
Annie or Lizzie.
Royce took the Congresswoman’s elbow, him, and steered her toward
the door. Celie shrilled,
memorable words from the Bible: ’Well done, good and faithful
servant‘!” some days—and then raw stuff from the kitchen. Potatoes and
x apples and stuff.“
“Annie pressed her lips together. She ain’t a morning person, her.
But it felt so good to be waking up at Annie’s place that I forgot
that, me. She said, ”The food would rot in just two-three days. I don’t
want, me, to have a lot of half-rotten stuff around here. It ain’t
clean.“
“Then we’ll throw it out, us, and get some more.” I spoke gentle.
Annie don’t like things to be different than they’ve always been.
Lizzie said, “Billy, you think, you, that kitchen is fixed yet?”
I said, “I don’t know, sweetheart. Let’s go look, us. Better get
dressed.”
Annie said, “She got to go, her, to the baths first. She stinks. Me,
too. You walk us, Billy?”
“Sure.” What good did she think an old wreck like me’d be against
rabid coons? But I’d of walked Annie past them demons she believes in.
Lizzie
said, “Billy, you think, you, that kitchen is fixed
yet?”
There wasn’t no raccoons near the baths. The men’s bath was empty
except for Mr. Keller, who’s so old I don’t think even he remembers if
he’s got a first name, and two little boys who shouldn’t of been there
alone, them. But they were having themselves a wonderful splashing
time. I liked watching them, me. They cheered up the morning.
Mr. Keller told me the cafe kitchen was fixed. I walked Annie and
Lizzie
,
sweet-clean as berries in the dew, to get our breakfast. But the cafe
was full, it, not just with Livers eating but of donkeys making a holo
of Congresswoman Janet Carol Land.
It was her, all right. No tape. She stood in front of the foodbelt,
which offered the usual soysynth eggs, bacon, cereals, and breads, plus
some fresh genemod strawberries. I don’t like genemod strawberries, me.
They might keep for weeks, but they never taste like them little wild
sweet berries that grow on the hillsides in June.
“. - . serving her people with the best she has, no matter the need,
no matter the hour, no matter the emergency,” said a handsome donkey
into a camera ‘bot. “Janet Carol Land, on the spot to serve East
Oleanta—on the spot to serve
you
. A politician who deserves
those memorable words from the Bible: ’Well done, good and faithful
servant‘!”
Land railed. She was a looker, her, the way donkey women are when
they’re not young: fine soft skin and pink lips and hair in pretty
silver waves. Too skinny, though. Not like Annie. Who pressed her
dark-berry lips together like she was going to squeeze cider with them.
Land said to the handsome man, “Thank you, Royce. As you know, the
cafe is the heart of any aristo town. That’s why when a cafe
malfunctions, I move heaven and earth to get it operable again. As
these good citizens of East Oleanta can attest.”
“Let’s talk to some of them,” Royce said, showing all his teeth. He
and Land walked to a table where Jack Sawicki sat, him, looking‘
cornered. “Mayor Sawicki, what do you think of the service
Congresswoman Land provided your town today?”
Paulie Cenverno looked up, him, from where he ate at the next table.
With him was Celie Kane. Annie’s lower lip trembled itself into a
half-grin, half-wince.
Jack said miserably, “We’re awful happy, us, that the foodbelt’s
fixed, and we—”
“When you fuckers gonna get them rabid raccoons killed?” Celie
demanded.
Royce’s face froze, it. “I don’t think—”
“You better think, you, and think hard about them coons, or you and
the Congresswoman gonna be thinking about new jobs!”
“Cut,” Royce said. “Don’t worry, Janet, we’ll edit it.” His smile
looked like it was foamed onto his face, but I saw his eyes, me, and I
looked away. My fighting days are over, unless I have to fight for
Annie or Lizzie.
Royce took the Congresswoman’s elbow, him, and steered her toward
the door. Celie shrilled,
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