Free Breaking and Entering by Joy Williams Page B

pulled the pillow over her head. After a few moments, she heard Willie saying to her, “That was Charlie. He wants us to have breakfast with him.”

     
    Willie and Liberty could never refuse Charlie when he wanted to eat. Charlie was an alcoholic who seldom ate. The last time they had the pleasure of Charlie’s company at table was in a Chinese restaurant where Charlie had eaten eight kernels of rice in the course of an hour. Late in the evening, he had taken a bite out of the glass his gin was gone from.
    Willie and Liberty got into their truck and drove to a restaurant nearby called The Blue Gate. Clem sat on the seat between them. From the back, he could pass for another person with long, pale hair, sitting there. At the restaurant, they all got out and Clem lay down beneath an orange tree growing in the dirt parking lot. The Blue Gate was a Mennonite restaurant in a community of cottages with living petunia crosses growing on the lawn.
    Inside, Charlie was waiting for them at a table by the pie display. He wore a rumpled suit a size too large for him and a clean shirt. His hair was combed wetly back, his face was swollen and his hands shook. Nevertheless, he seemed in excellent spirits.
    “Been too long, man,” Charlie said to Willie, shaking his hand. “Hi, doll,” he said to Liberty. “Where you two been lately? I never see you at the Gator.”
    “Ahh, the Gator,” Willie said. “Doesn’t that bar depress you? JJ depresses me.”
    “JJ’s all right,” Charlie said. “He’s a real good listener since his stroke.”
    Willie shrugged. “Brings me down. I should be ashamed, of course.”
    “I love the ol’ Gator,” Charlie said. “I had a great night. Saw some movies, went to some parties, met the dawn at the Gator. Man, I love
The Thing
. You ever see
The Thing?
‘Tell the world! Watch the skies! Everywhere! Watch the skies!’ ” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. “I’ve been celebrating,” he said. “One sale.” Charlie was a real estate agent, the most successful agent at Ace Realty in a decade. Buyers seemed mesmerized by Charlie. His appearance before them made them desperate to purchase terra firma. “Two acres of land on a golf course to a Canadian couple. They smelled like cooking gas for some reason. They laid their dreams out right in front of me. They wanted an opulent staircase and a sauna. They wanted a special room for the missus’s collection of dolls. They wanted a special room for the mister’s aqua leather sofa. Your Charlie found them just the place. They wept with joy.” He began to tear absent-mindedly at one of the bills in his hand.
    “Put that stuff away,” Willie said.
    Charlie took a wallet out of his jacket and opened it. He pressed the bills inside.
    “Why are you carrying around a picture of a tree?” Willie asked.
    “Do you know that each person in the world needs all the oxygen produced in a year by a tree with thirty thousand leaves?” Charlie said. He looked at the snapshot of the tree in his wallet. “Isn’t that a nice tree!” he said.
    He ordered eggs, fried mush, orange juice, milk and coffee cake. “I love this place,” he sighed. “These are good people, these are religious people. You know what’s on the bottom of the pie pans? There are messages on the bottom of the pie pans, embossed in the aluminum. I got a pineapple cream cheese pie here last week and it said
Wise men shall seek Him
. Isn’t that something! The last crumbs expose a Christian message! You should bring a sweet potato pie home, Liberty, get yourself a message.”
    “There are too many messages in Liberty’s life already,” Willie said. “Liberty is on some terrible mailing lists.”
    Charlie nodded vigorously. “I got a letter from Greenpeace once. They’re the ones who want to stop the slaughter of the harp seals, right? Envelope had a picture of a cuddly little white seal and the words KISS THIS BABY GOOD-BYE . You get that one,