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Show 106 of dark fuzz on his upper lip. With great caution, Karl eased his father's straight razor along his lip, then washed his face, arms, and underarms before dumping the soapy water into the sink. Upstairs in his room, Karl put on a white shirt so heavily starched that he had to force his hands through the stuck-together sleeves. After pushing the collar button in the front of the shirt through the tiny buttonholes of a stiff high collar, he stretched his neck against the chafing. The blue bow tie turned out right on his first attempt at tying it, which he took as an omen that he'd look classy when he finished dressing. Long, thin legs through the trousers of his one good suit, suspenders snapped into place, vest buttoned all the way up, jacket settled smoothly over his shoulders, one last sweep of a comb through his pompadour, in front of his mother's dresser mirror, and he was ready. He looked at least seventeen, he thought. Electricity had been wired throughout the Sokol Hall the year before. Strings of forty-watt light bulbs, supplied by the light company at an inflated price, glowed over the middle of the floor, but left in shadow the benches along the walls where most of the guests were sitting. |
