Read Online The Sisters Brothers by Patrick deWitt - Free Book Online Page A

his pencil on his pad. ‘You want to eat but you don’t want to become full?’
    ‘I want to be unhungry, ’ I said.
    ‘And what is the difference?’
    ‘I want to eat, only I don’t want to eat such heavy foods, don’t you see?’
    He said, ‘To me, the whole point of eating is to get full.’
    ‘Are you telling me there are no options other than what’s listed?’
    The waiter was baffled. He excused himself to fetch the cook from the kitchen; she was overworked and annoyed at the inconvenience.
    ‘What’s the problem, sir?’ she asked, wiping her hands on her sleeves.
    ‘I never said there was a problem. I only wonder if there’s a lighter option than the meals listed on the bill of fare.’
    The cook looked at the waiter and back to me. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’
    ‘We could give you a half portion, if you’re not hungry,’ said the waiter.
    ‘I’ve already told you I’m hungry. I’m famished. But I’m looking for something that isn’t so filling, do you see?’
    ‘When I eat a meal, I want to get full,’ said the cook.
    ‘That’s the object of eating!’ said the waiter.
    ‘And then, when you finish, you pat your belly and say, “I’m full.” ’
    ‘Everybody does that.’
    ‘Look,’ I said. ‘I’ll take a half portion of beef, no spuds, with wine. Do you have any vegetables? Any greens?’
    I thought the cook would laugh in my face. ‘I believe there are some carrots out by the hutches.’
    ‘Bring me a handful of carrots, opposite the beef, peeled and boiled. You can charge me the price of a full plate for the trouble, is that all right?’
    ‘Whatever you say,’ said the cook.
    ‘I’ll bring the wine out now,’ said the waiter.
    When they brought me my plate it was heaped with limp, hot carrots. The cook had skinned the stalks but left the green tops attached, a malicious oversight, I felt. I choked down half a dozen of these but it was as though they disappeared before arriving in my stomach, and I began somewhat despairingly to root for the beef. I found this at the bottom of the pile and savored every bite, but it was gone far too quickly, and I became depressed. I blew out the candle and stared once more at my ghostly hands. When they began to tingle, I wondered about the curse from the gypsy-witch’s shack. When would it come to bloom, if ever? What form would it take? The waiter returned to clear the table and pointed at the remaining carrots. ‘Didn’t you care for the vegetables?’ he asked naively.
    ‘All right,’ I said. ‘Take it away.’
    ‘More wine?’
    ‘One more glass.’
    ‘Would you like any dessert?’
    ‘No! Goddamnit!’
    The tormented waiter hurried away from me.

Chapter 22
    In the morning I checked on Charlie and was unsurprised to find him sick and disinclined to travel. I started in with my halfhearted reprimand, but it was not necessary; he knew as well as I we could not pass another day without hard riding and he promised to be ready in one hour. I did not know what magic he thought to conjure that might bring his suffering to an end in so short a time but I did not engage him on this topic, leaving him instead to his vapors and pains and returning to the restaurant from the night previous for my much needed breakfast. The waiter was not there but in his place was a lad who resembled him and whom I assumed was his son; however, when I asked, ‘Where is your father?’ the boy gripped his hands and said, ‘Heaven.’ I ate a small portion of eggs and beans and was still very hungry when I was finished. I sat looking at the greasy plate, wishing, frankly, to lick it, but decorum kept me from doing so. When the lad came by and picked the plate up I watched it hovering across the dining room and into the kitchen, out of my field of vision. The boy returned and asked if I wanted anything more before paying up. ‘Fresh pie this morning,’ he said.
    ‘What kind of pie?’ I demanded. I thought, Don’t let it be cherry.
    ‘Cherry,’ said