"What are you talking about?" Andy asked, only half listening, still worrying about Shirl.
"Birth control, that's what. They are finally getting around to legalizing clinics that will be open to anyone — married or not — and making it a law that all mothers must be supplied with birth-control information. Boy, are we going to hear some howling when the blue-noses find out about that — and the Pope will really plotz!"
"Not now, Sol, I'm tired. Did Shirl say anything about when she would be back?"
"Just what I told you…" He stopped and listened to the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. They stopped and there was a light knocking on the door.
Andy was there first, twisting at the knob, tearing the door open.
"Shirl!" he said. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, sure — I'm fine."
He held her to him, tightly, almost cutting off her breath. "With the riots — I didn't know what to think," he said. "I just came in a little while ago myself. Where have you been? What happened?"
"I just wanted to get out for a while, that's all." She wrinkled her nose. "What's that funny smell?"
He stepped away from her, anger welling up through the fatigue. "I caught some of my own puke gas and heaved it up. It's hard to get off. What do you mean that you wanted to get out for a while?"
"Let me get my coat off."
Andy followed her into the other room and closed the door behind them. She was taking a pair of high-heeled shoes out of the bag she carried and putting them in the closet. "Well?" he said.
"Just that, it's not complicated. I was feeling trapped in here, with the shortages and the cold and everything, and never seeing you, and I felt bad about the fight we had. Nothing seemed to be going right. So I thought if I dressed up and went to one of the restaurants where I used to go just to have a cup of coffee or something, I might feel better. A morale booster, you know." She looked up at his cold face, then glanced quickly away.
"Then what happened?" he asked.
"I'm not in the witness box, Andy. Why the accusing tone?"
He turned his back and looked out the window. "I'm not accusing you of anything, but you were out all night. How do you expect me to feel?"
"Well, you know how bad it was yesterday, I was afraid to come back. I was up at Curley's—"
"The meateasy?"
"Yes, but if you don't eat anything it's not expensive. It's just the food that costs. I met some people I knew and we talked, they were going to a party and invited me and I went along. We were watching news about the riots on TV and no one wanted to go out, so the party just went on and on." She paused. "That's all."
"All?" An angry question, a dark suspicion.
"That's all.” she said, and her voice was now as cold as his.
She turned her back to him and began to pull off her dress, and their words lay like a cold barrier between them. Andy dropped onto the bed and turned his back on her as well so that they were like strangers, even in the tiny room.
SPRING
The funeral drew them together as nothing else had during the cold depths of the winter. It was a raw day, gusting wind and rain, but there was still a feeling that winter was on the way out. But it had been too long a winter for Sol and his cough had turned into a cold, the cold into pneumonia, and what can an old man do in a cold room without drugs in a winter that does not seem to end? Die, that was all. So he had died. They had forgotten their differences during his illness and Shirl had nursed him as best she could, but careful nursing does not cure pneumonia. The funeral had been as brief and cold as the day and in the early darkness they went back to the room. They had not been back half an hour before there was a quick rapping on the door. Shirl gasped.
"The callboy. They can't. You don't have to work today."
"Don't worry. Even Grassy wouldn't go back on his word about a thing like this. And besides, that's not the callboy's knock."
"Maybe a friend of Sol's who couldn't get to the funeral."
She went to unlock the door and had to blink into the darkness of the hall for a moment before she recognized the man standing there.
"Tab! It is you, isn't it? Come in, don't stand there. Andy, I told you about Tab my bodyguard…"
"Afternoon, Miss Shirl," Tab said stolidly, staying in the hall. "I'm sorry, but this is no social call. I'm on the job now."
"What is it?" Andy asked, walking over next to Shirl.
"You have to realize I take the work that is offered to me," Tab said. He was unsmiling and gloomy. "I've been in the bodyguard pool since September, just the odd jobs, no regular assignments, we take whatever work we can get. A man turns down a job, he goes right back to the end of the list. I have a family to feed…"
"What are you trying to say?" Andy asked. He was aware that someone was standing in the darkness behind Tab and could tell by the shuffle of feet that there were others out of sight down the hall.
"Don't take no guff," the man in back of Tab said in an unpleasant nasal voice. He stayed behind the bodyguard where he could not be seen. "I got the law on my side. I paid you. Show him the order!"
"I think I understand now," Andy said. "Get away from the door, Shirl. Come inside so we can talk to you."
Tab started forward and the man in the hall tried to follow him. "You don't go in there without me—" he shrilled. His voice was cut off as Andy slammed the door in his face.
"I wish you hadn't done that," Tab said. He was wearing his spike-studded iron knuckles, his fist clenched tight around them.
"Relax," Andy said. "I just wanted to talk to you alone first, find out was going on. He has a squat-order, doesn't he?"
Tab nodded, looking unhappily down at the floor.
"What on earth are you two talking about?" Shirl asked, worriedly glancing back and forth at their set expressions.
Andy didn't answer and Tab turned to her. "A squat-order is issued by the court to anyone who can prove they are really in need of a place to live. They only give so many out, and usually just to people with big families that have had to get out of some other place. With a squat-order you can look around and find a vacant apartment or room or anything like that, and the order is sort of a search warrant. There can be trouble, people don't want to have strangers walking in on them, that kind of thing, so anyone with a squat-order takes along a bodyguard. That's where I come in, the party out there in the hall, name of Belicher, hired me."
"But what are you doing here?" Shirl asked, still not understanding.
"Because Belicher is a ghoul, that's why," Andy said bitterly. "He hangs around the morgue looking for bodies."
"That's one way of saying it," Tab answered, holding on to his temper. "He's also a guy with a wife and kids and no place to live, that's another way of looking at it."