The old woman wandered off muttering. Lynda glared after her. “Jee-sus H. They ought to lock up some of the crazies in this town, you know what I mean? What was she saying to you?”

“I don’t remember.” He stared down at me food in front of him. The smell had flooded his mouth with saliva. He could think of nothing else.

“So eat!” Lynda laughed, seeing his stare. “I got you a Gobbler on sourdough. Hope you like everything in a turkey sandwich, ‘cause that’s what you got.”

Wizard ate ravenously, scarcely chewing, enjoying the scraping of large hunks of food moving down his throat. He washed it down with draughts of the cold beer whenever his mouth got too dry to chew. There was lettuce, tomatoes, onions, turkey and cheese, and me fragrant, chewy bread itself. He didn’t see Lynda as he ate, only becoming aware of her when she replaced his mug with a full one. He didn’t care for the beer, but drank it for the moisture. He recalled me taste, the slight bitterness. He seemed to remember that when be had been thirsty, they never let him have any, but there were too many times when there was too much of it and he had drunk beer until his belly sloshed. When that had been he could not be sure; there was only the unpleasant memory of thick cigarette smoke and too many people talking too loudly. His mind veered from the thought. He took a final swallow and stared in surprise at his empty plate.

“Hungry guy,” Lynda observed with maternal pride. “Finish off your beer. Bet you feel better now.”

Wizard checked. He was not sure himself that better was an accurate description. He felt heavy, logy as a sated wolf.

His neck did not seem as strong as usual. It took a small portion of his concentration to keep his head upright; it wanted to sag onto the table. Setting down his empty mug, he leaned heavily into the wall and sighed. The honesty of the bricks comforted him. He looked at the woman beside him very carefully. This was the second time she had fed him, yet she did not make him feel that he owed her anything. She was smiling at him, seeming glad of his attention. She had blue eyes and a straight. nose and abundant blond hair. Her mouth was too generous for contemporary beauty, but he found he liked it. Her hands, lying soft and empty on the table top, were small, but not well, J cared for. Working hands.

“What?” she asked softly.

“I am trying to figure you out,” he told her solemnly.:

‘There isn’t much,to figure out.“ She gave a deprecating little laugh. ”I’m just me. Just what you see. Maybe you think I want something from you, because of the way I’ve, well. almost picked you up. But that’s not how it is, really. I don’t like to be alone. That’s part of it. And I like helping people.

I know that sounds corny, but it really is true. When I saw you sitting alone on the bench with only pigeons for company, my;? heart just went out to you. I mean, at first I was really pissed at you for the way you took Boom’s breakfast, and let me get Ai the blame for it. But even right there in Duffy’s, I looked at you and couldn’t stay mad. The way you peeked around your newspaper, suddenly it just seemed so funny. Did you see Booth’s face when he tossed down my keys and his food was gone? Did you see him?“

Lynda began to giggle. Wizard watched her face, studying the sparkle that came into her eyes and made her girlish. There was something here for him, something warm. He caught at that thought and tried to find the sense in it, but he could no longer follow it.

She had his hand. He looked down in some surprise, wondering why he hadn’t noticed her touch before. Her hands were white in contrast to his. His were browned and bony with little gristly scars on his knuckles. The comparison made him feel strong. She squeezed his hand gently, and the touch was good.

“You haven’t told me a thing about yourself. And I’ve talked and talked about me, and I suddenly realize that I just bought dinner for a man, I don’t even know his name. So what’s your name?”

The simple question stopped him cold. He had not realized how much he had relaxed in her company until the iciness of her querying tightened his muscles. He searched her face for signs of treachery. Her blue eyes went wider at his grim expression and her smile lost its confidence. He took a deep breath to spill out some sort of an answer, but it came out as a racking cough. It didn’t stop. It tortured him, driving the air from his lungs, reddening his face and making tears roll from the comers of his eyes- He pushed against Lynda and then staggered to his feet, his hands on his knees as he bent to try and take in air. Other customers were looking up in dismay, and one man rose to ask her if her friend were choking. Wizard shook his head in an emphatic no. “Air,” he gasped. “Cold air.”

He shook Lynda’s grip from his sleeve and staggered out the door of City Picnics. In the hallway he headed for the stairs and clambered up them, still wheezing and hacking. The circle of his vision was narrowing, darkness closing in from the periphery. He got the door open and staggered out onto the sidewalk, to lean up against the building. His chest did not feel so compressed here. He began to take small, short breaths and men longer, deeper ones. His face was stilt cooling when Lynda dashed out the door, her head swiveling in all directions.

“There you are!” she exclaimed. She dropped her shopping bag and shrugged into her raincoat, gripping her purse strap with her teeth.“Are you all right?” she demanded as soon as her mouth was empty. “That was just awful! Everyone was so worried, but I said it was just a bronchial attack and grabbed my stuff and followed you. I could tell you didn’t want everyone making a big fuss over you. Now, are you okay?”

Wizard nodded slowly. He straightened from leaning on the building, and she instantly had his arm. She was strong, taking part of his weight whether he wanted her to or not. She began to steer him slowly down the sidewalk, talking all the while.

That was one good tiling about her. She talked so much that he had to say almost nothing at all. Now, why was that good? he wondered. He tuned into her monologue. “… Hot buttered rum. Or a hot toddy or Irish coffee- Something hot. I bet I know a good place for that It’ll cut that junk in your throat and make you feel better. Warm you up inside. Come on, it’s only a few blocks from here.”

Wizard found himself nodding as he leaned against her support. She fit neatly under his arm- A hooker walked past them, headed in the opposite direction. Her heels tacked clearly against the pavement as she strode along, heading for more heavily traveled streets. He had a brief impression of her short bright dress, the elegantly casual coiling of her hair upon her shoulders that was her only wrap against the cold November night, and her parted lips shining in the lamplight. Then her black empty eyes hit him with a bolt of sadness that staggered him back against the wall of the building. She turned her head as she passed, tearing him with the hooks of her smile. Her agony raced through him. For a second he felt sure that, had he been alone, she would have said something to him, and he would have Known something to tell her. But he wasn’t alone, and he didn’t Know, and she kept clipping along, her footsteps fading swiftly from his hearing. He rubbed his forehead and pushed the hair back from his face. Lynda was staring at him.

He had almost forgotten her.

“What was that?” she demanded, little lights dancing angrily in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” he managed. Then more words pushed up out of him, words he hadn’t consciously planned to say. “Lynda.

I have to go home now. Thank you for treating me so kindly. But.“

“Oh, no, you don’t.” She gripped his arm firmly and hauled him up beside her. “Some chippie walks past and gives you the eye, and you decide to drop me and give chase, huh?”‘