“A year,” she went on. “And every godforsaken day that bastard never stopped ogling me, his wife screaming from morning to night. I worked there for a year. I waited on customers, wiped the tables, swept the floor, and look where it got me. The boss runs his hand up my crotch and everything is back to square one. Me and my two suitcases. I’ve got just enough left to last me a few days, or buy myself a train ticket.”

She shook her head for a long time, then looked up at me and smiled. I recognized her again.

“That’s not even the punch line,” she said. “I don’t even have anywhere to sleep. I got my things together in a hurry-the other girls stared at me with bug eyes. ‘I’m not staying here one more minute!’ I told them. ‘I can’t stand the sight of that bastard’s face one more second!’ “

I opened a beer on the edge of the table.

“Well, I’ll tell you…You’re right,” I said. “I think you’re a hundred percent right.”

Her eyes sparkled at me. I felt her coming back to life-felt it grab her around the waist and shake her. Her long hair billowed over the table.

“Yeah, somehow that guy must have got it in his head that I belonged to him. You know the type…”

“Yeah, sure, I know. Believe me, I know…”

“Yeah. I think they all go crazy after a certain age.”

We cleared the table and I took the two suitcases inside. She started doing the dishes-I could see the water squirting in front of her. She reminded me of some strange flower equipped with translucent antennas and a violet Naugahyde core. I didn’t know many girls who could get away with wearing that color miniskirt so carelessly. I tossed the suitcases on the bed.