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Show 97 said no not that he could recall and then I ask him if she really hated her brother that much and he tells me that her brother died before he could walk, I should know that, so how could she hate him. God, why would she make something like that up?" By the time he got to that his face was only about ten inches from mine and I could smell his sweaty t-shirt and his eyes were wide open and I could have sworn he wasn't breathing at all. He was waiting. I think he expected me to have an answer. Well I didn't, so I started looking in all my pockets for a match, not looking very hard if you know what I mean, and by the time I found one and got my cigarette lit he had let out his breath, long and slow and dead smelling, like the air out of an over-inflated tire, and I figured it was okay. I figured he just had to get that off his chest and now that he had he would be okay. And I was right, I guess, because after that Donny went back to unwrapping his other sandwich and for the first time that day his face looked relaxed. His Linda had really done a job on it. She had wrapped it so many separate times with Saran-wrap that even though Donny had already taken off five layers of the stuff you still couldn't see through to the bread. And if Donny thought that was a little strange you sure couldn't tell by watching him, peeling off those squares one by one and smoothing them out on the table like he was going to save them. I couldn't understand his concentration and I couldn't keep from watching, even though I didn't want to. It must have taken |