Зима тревоги нашей

           Thecatwasinthealleyallright,buthewouldn’tcometothemilkuntilIwentintothefrontofthestore.FromthereIcouldseehim,graycatingrayalley,lappingthemilk.Whenheraisedhisheadhewasmustachedwithmilk.Hesatdownandwipedhismouthandlickedhispads.

           IopenedthehatboxandtookouttheSaturdayreceipts,alllistedandheldtogetherwithpaperclips.FromthebrownbankenvelopeIremovedthirtyone-hundred-dollarbillsandreplacedtheothertwentyofthem.Thisthreethousanddollarswouldbemymarginofsafetyuntilthestore’seconomycouldbalance.Mary’sothertwothousandwouldgobacktoheraccountand,assoonasIcoulddoitsafely,Iwouldreplacethethreethousand.ThethirtybillsIputinmynewwallet,whichmadeitveryfatinmyhippocket.ThenIbroughtcasesandcartonsfromthestoreroom,rippedandtorethemopen,andbegantoreplenishmyexhaustedshelves,whileonastripofwrappingpaperIlistedthegoodsthathadtobereordered.CartonsandboxesIpiledinthealleyforthecollectiontruck,andIrefilledthecoffeecanwithmilkbutthecatdidnotreturn.Eitherhehadhadenoughorhetookpleasureonlyinwhathecouldsteal.

           Itmustbethatthereareyearsunlikeotheryears,asdifferentinclimateanddirectionandmoodasonedaycanbefromanotherday.Thisyearof1960wasayearofchange,ayearwhensecretfearscomeintotheopen,whendiscontentstopsbeingdormantandchangesgraduallytoanger.Itwasn’tonlyinmeorinNewBaytown.