Venice in L.A. But the street was such a fragile place, and it keptdisappearing on you even while you were living right in it.

But there was no way that Harmony Illinois was the street, sowhat in the world was she looking for if she had found it here?

Funeral homes, she thought. I'm looking for a place wherefuneral homes outnumber car dealerships, because my songs are deadand I need a decent place to bury them.

It wasn't bad working for Minnie Wilcox. She talked a lot butthere were plenty of town people who came by for coffee in themorning and a sandwich at lunch, so Rainie didn't have to payattention to most of the talking unless she wanted to. Minnie found outthat Rainie was a fair hand at making sandwiches, too, and she couldfry an egg, so the work load kind of evened out -- whichever of themwas getting behind, the other one helped. It was busy, but it wasdecent work -- nobody yelled at anybody else, and even when thepeople who came in were boring, which was always, they were stilldecent and even the one old man who leered at her kept his handsand his comments to himself. There were days when Rainie evenforgot to slip outside in back of the cafe and have a smoke in the wide-open gravel alleyway next to the dumpster.

"How'd you used to manage before I came along?" she askedearly on. "I mean, judging from that sign, you've been looking for helpfor a long time."

"Oh, I got by, Idie, darlin', I got by."

Pretty soon, though, Rainie picked up the truth from commentsthe customers made when they thought she was far enough away notto hear. Old people always thought that because they could barelyhear, everybody else was half-deaf, too. "Oh, she's a live one." "Knows how to work, this one does." "Not one of those young girlswho only care about one thing." "How long you think she'll last,Minnie?"

She lasted one week. She lasted two weeks. It was on into