I went back to the store. I could hear the band from down the street. Prohibition’s a fine thing. Used to be they’d come in Saturday with just one pair of shoes in the family and him wearing them, and they’d go down to the express office and get his package; now they all go to the show barefooted, with the merchants in the door like a row of tigers or something in a cage, watching them pass. Earl says,
“I hope it wasn’t anything serious.”
“What?” I says. He looked at his watch. Then he went to the door and looked at the courthouse clock. “You ought to have a dollar watch,” I says. “It wont cost you so much to believe it’s lying each time.”
“What?” he says.
“Nothing,” I says. “Hope I haven’t inconvenienced you.”
“We were not busy much,” he says. “They all went to the show. It’s all right.”
“If it’s not all right,” I says, “You know what you can do about it.”
“I said it was all right,” he says.
“I heard you,” I says. “And if it’s not all right, you know what you can do about it.”
“Do you want to quit?” he says.
“It’s not my business,” I says. “My wishes dont matter. But dont get the idea that you are protecting me by keeping me.”
“You’d be a good business man if you’d let yourself, Jason,” he says.
“At least I can tend to my own business and let other peoples’ alone,” I says.