Angels Read Online Free PDF Page A

was with, over at the bar, and offered to trade.
    â€œI knew this would happen,” Jamie said.
    â€œThis is the third time I’ve picked her up—over at the Far East Lounge,” the man explained, pointing again to the woman at the bar. The woman was scratching her throat with a pinky while looking at herself in the mirror. Bill Houston listened politely.
    â€œOh, she’s all right,” the man said quickly. “Nothing wrong with her. Just I’ve hung out with her before is all, about six times, and she tells the same old jokes. But they’d be new to you, right? What do you say?” He turned to Jamiie. “What do you say? You don’t mind.”
    â€œI most certainly—Bill! Will you tell him what’s what?” She pulled Kleenex from her purse and started wiping at her make-up. She shifted in her chair and yanked at the hem of her skirt.
    The man smiled. “She seems stuck on you,” he told Bill Houston. “But she won’t mind. You won’t mind, will you? She won’t mind. What do you say, old buddy?”
    â€œWell now, I don’t exactly know,” Bill Houston said. “All depends. How much you say you’re paying that lady?”
    â€œOh, there’s no—it’s very unofficial,” the man said. “We haven’t really gotten around to that yet. She just wants, you know, a present. It all depends.”
    â€œHey. I don’t know if this is a joke, or what,” Jamie said excitedly. “You stop it. Listen, I can’t use this. What are you doing?”
    The man seemed to sense complications. His smile turned wary.
    â€œYou think this one’s worth fifty?” Bill Houston asked him.
    â€œBill!” Jamie caught hold of his arm and clawed it frantically, remaining stiff and erect in her chair.
    The man began looking Jamie over. Bill Houston smiled off toward the shadows.
    â€œOh, yeah, definitely—fifty dollars,” the man said.
    She didn’t want to draw stares by rising from her place. She covered her face with her hands. “ Bill, ” she said, into her hands.
    â€œWell now, you were the one crying about money just a while ago.” Then he laughed with embarrassment.
    Jamie found herself, behind her hands, considering the amount of fifty dollars. “Stop. Stop. Please,” she said into her hands.
    The man stood uncomfortably beside their table, and put his own hands in his pockets.
    â€œOkay,” Bill Houston said. “Guess that’s that. Just a misunderstanding. Nobody’s fault. Right?” he said to the man.
    â€œOh, hell—a misunderstanding?” the man said. He looked at Bill Houston. “Oh, listen, say, I guess I—boy, I’m sure sorry.” He turned very red even in the dim light, and left their table. He took the woman at the bar by the arm and went out with her, lifting a hand weakly to Jamie while staring angrily at Bill Houston. The woman went where she was urged, trying repeatedly, and failing, to get her purse-strap hooked over her shoulder.
    Jamie and Bill Houston said nothing. The bartender came over to their table with two Seven-and-Sevens, compliments of the mistaken gentleman. Jamie wanted to leave right away. Bill Houston downed both drinks and they went out.
    They said nothing for a while on the street. Jamie halted at a bus stop on the side of the street pointing home. Bill Houston walked on in apparent ignorance of her stopping, then turned and went back to stand with her, as if puzzled why she was no longer in a partying mood. After a while Bill Houston breathed deeply of the night and then exhaled, saying, “Aaaaaaali!” And then he stretched and yawned and said, “Hey there!” and “Well now!” and other such things.
    The bus had passed through Homewood, then Brushton; they’d missed their stop a long, long time ago. Jamie rested her head against the back of the seat and read all the