Eduardo's Arc

Chapter 26 of 60

Eduardo ate supper alone at the table. Bread and cold beans. The ledger sat open beside his plate. He read the two names on it while he chewed. When the plate was empty, the house went quiet in the way that made his hands restless. He knew the shape of the craving now. Cards first. Then a bottle. Then a woman who did not ask his name. He set the fork down and pushed back from the table. The porch would not hold him tonight. Neither would the closet he had already emptied. He put on his cap and walked toward town. The road was long enough to work the shake out of his hands. He passed the feed store, already dark. He kept walking until the lanterns along the stone path came up warm around him. He had not meant to stop at the feast hall. His feet stopped him. The building rose tall and yellow, vines running up the stone. Light poured from the tall windows. He smelled bread and something with onions. He stood at the door and almost turned back. Then a boy inside spotted him through the glass. Emilio. The orphan boy who had sat with him through the last craving without asking a single question. Emilio waved him in like he had been waiting. Eduardo pushed the door open. A long table ran down the middle of the hall. Half a dozen townspeople sat along it. An old woman moved between them with a pot. Gray hair in a bun, brown apron, a small brass pendant at her throat. She looked up when he stepped in and set the pot down. "You eaten?" she said. "I ate at home." "Sit anyway." He took off his cap. Emilio was already dragging his stool from the corner to the empty spot beside a cup no one drank from. The boy patted the bench next to him. Eduardo sat. The woman set a bowl in front of him. Stew. A piece of bread on the side. She did not ask his name or where he came from. She filled the cup that had been empty and moved on. "Gwen keeps the cup out for her husband," Emilio said. "He passed. She still pours." Eduardo looked at the cup. Then at the woman working the length of the table. He picked up the spoon. The stew was hot. The bread was fresh. The man beside him asked about the front of his house. Someone had seen the paint. Eduardo said he had done it himself. The man nodded and went back to his food. That was all. Eduardo ate slowly. The craving thinned and went out like a wick in water. When he finished, Gwen came back with the pot. "Friday nights," she said. "Chair's here if you want it." "I want it," he said. She nodded once and moved on. He walked home under a clean sky and slept.