The Sisters Brothers Read Online Free PDF Page B

shirt, foremostly.’
    ‘Your hat is tattered.’
    ‘What do you have in the way of shirts?’ asked Charlie.
    The old man studied Charlie’s torso, reading his measurements with a trained eye, then turned and scurried up a ladder just behind him, pulling from the shelves a short stack of folded shirts. He descended and laid the stack before Charlie; as my brother sorted through these, the old man asked me, ‘And you, sir?’
    ‘I am not looking for anything this evening.’
    ‘Your hat is tattered, also.’
    ‘I like my hat.’
    ‘You seem to have known each other a long while, judging by the sweat rings.’
    My face darkened and I said, ‘It is impolite to speak of other people’s clothing like that.’
    The man’s eyes were black and slick and he reminded me of a mole or some other type of burrowing animal: Quick and sure and single-minded. He said, ‘I did not intend to be impolite. I blame my line of work. Whenever I see a man in compromised attire I am drawn to him in sympathy.’ His eyes grew wide and innocent but while he spoke his hands, working independently, laid three new hats out on the counter.
    ‘Did you not hear me when I said I wanted nothing?’ I asked.
    ‘What will putting one on hurt you?’ he wondered, propping up a looking glass. ‘You’re just passing time while your friend here tries out shirts.’ The hats were black, chocolate, and dark blue. I laid mine next to them and had to admit it was in poor shape by comparison. I said I might try one on and the old man called out sharply, ‘Rag!’ Now a pregnant and markedly ugly young girl emerged from behind the curtain with a steaming cloth in her hand. She flung this at me and returned without a word from whence she came. I stood handling the hot rag, tossing it back and forth to cool it, and the old man offered his explanation: ‘If you wouldn’t mind wiping down your hands and brow, sir. We can’t have the merchandise sullied by every fellow who enters the room.’ I set about cleaning myself while he turned his attention to Charlie, busily buttoning up a black cotton shirt with pearl snap buttons. ‘Now, that is a beautiful fit,’ the old man said. Charlie stood before a long looking glass, moving this way and that to view the shirt from each angle. He turned to me and pointed at the garment, his eyebrows slightly raised.
    ‘It is a handsome one,’ I said.
    ‘I’ll take it,’ Charlie said.
    ‘And what do you think of your friend in this?’ the old man asked as he put the chocolate hat atop my head. Charlie considered my profile, then asked to see what the black one looked like. When the old man swapped them out, Charlie nodded. ‘If you were after a hat, you could stop right there. It’s not going to get much better than that. And I think I might like to see the blue one, while they’re out.’
    ‘Rag!’ said the old man, and again the pregnant girl emerged to hurl a steaming cloth over the counter, and again she returned, saying nothing. Wiping his forehead, Charlie smiled. ‘That your woman, old man?’
    ‘She is,’ he said proudly.
    ‘That your child in her belly?’
    His face puckered to a scowl. ‘You doubt the quality of my seed?’
    ‘I had no plans to discuss your seed.’
    ‘It is impertinent.’
    Charlie raised his hands to make peace. ‘I am impressed with you, is all. I meant you no offense, and wish the both of you a long and happy life together.’ In this way the matter was settled, and whatever hard feelings that remained were put to rest by our purchases: I bought the hat and also a shirt, and Charlie, in a frenzy of commerce, was outfitted from head to toe. The old man went to bed forty dollars richer, and was glad to have risen from his slumber and seen to our needs. As we rode away in all our finery I said to Charlie, ‘That is a tidy business.’
    ‘It is tidier than killing,’ he agreed.
    ‘I believe I could settle into a life like that. I sometimes think about slowing down.