Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/196

 new's been added." His glassy eyes looked at Gaylord … "Something cute too … Hello, doll."

Paul was quick and sharp. "Hello, Freddie … How about a couple of bourbons." He looked at Gaylord. "Bourbon all right, Gay?" "May I have mine in coke?" he asked Paul.

Freddie said in a whine, "Honey, you can have anything you want … You're a doll …"

"Freddie," mumbled Paul.

"Well, he is." He smiled at Gaylord.

Gaylord smiled back but was silent. He didn't know what to say.

"Ok … so he's a doll … Now may we have our drinks?"

"Sure girl … coming up …" He started to leave but turned and faced Gaylord … "Say, doll, how old are you?"

Paul was quick again on the answer. "He's old enough. Just bring us a couple of coke highballs, Freddie."

Freddie let out a long sigh. "Looks awfully young. Oh, well. Don't care or give a damn if they do close the joint." He shrugged his shoulders and left.

"Scared you're too young to serve to. Not that it matters in this dive. By the way, how do you like it?"

"I like it fine … Is … er … Freddie a friend of yours?"

"I just know him from coming in here so often. By the way, Gay, how old are you?"

"I'll soon be eighteen." Gaylord looked into Paul Boudreaux's eyes. He twisted on the seat thinking that the eyes looking back had a suspicious look in them.

Paul Boudreaux did have thoughts about Gaylord. In that split second of silence he wanted to kiss the childlike lips. Wanted to caress the bright, wavy hair. He looked so innocent. The cleanness of the country spring-time … Youth. That was the lure. A delicate plant among weak and spineless weeds. How different he looked among the hardened crowd, chunky of body, blank of face, shifty of eyes. They glided their steps among each other with an artificial precision; they were dreamers, weary and lifeless as the grey smoke that spun around them.

This was their club. Their place of retreat. The place they could 186