Part 11 (2/2)
”Where's the old town going?”
The bartender shrugged. ”Let Civek worry about that. It's what we pay him for, ain't it?”
”I suppose so. How're you fixed for liquor? Big supply?”
”Last a coupla weeks unless people start drinking more than usual.
Beer'll run out first.”
”That's right, I guess. But aren't you worried about being up in the air like this?”
The bartender shrugged again. ”Not much I can do about it, is there?
Want another shot?”
”Mix it this time. A little soda. Is that the general att.i.tude? Business as usual?”
”I hear some business is picking up. Lot of people buying winter clothes, for one thing, weather turning cold the way it did. And Dabney Brothers--they run the coal and fuel oil company--got enough orders to keep them going night and day for a week.”
”That's fine. But when they eventually run out, like you, then what?
Everybody freeze to death?”
The bartender made a thoughtful face. ”You got something there. Oh, h.e.l.lo, Ed. Kinda brisk tonight.”
It was Ed Clark, the newspaperman. Clark nodded to the bartender, who began to mix him a martini. ”Freeze the ears off a bra.s.s monkey,” Clark said, joining Don. ”I have an extra pair of earm.u.f.fs if you'd like them.”
”Thanks,” Don said, ”but I think I'd better buy myself some winter clothes tomorrow and return yours.”
”Suit yourself. Planning to settle down here?”
”I don't seem to have much choice. Anything new at your end?”
Clark lifted his br.i.m.m.i.n.g gla.s.s and took a sip. ”Here's to a mild winter. New? I guess you know we're in Pennsylvania now and not Ohio.
_Over_ Pennsylvania, I should say. Don't ask me why, unless Hector Civek thinks Superior will get a better break, taxwise.”
”You think the mayor's behind it all?”
”He has his delusions of grandeur, like a lot of people here. But I do think Hector knows more than he's telling. Some of the merchants--mostly those whose business hasn't benefited by the cold wave--have called a meeting for tomorrow. They want to pump him.”
”He wasn't exactly a flowing spout at Cavalier this afternoon when the people from the train wanted answers.”
”So that's where he was. They couldn't find him at Town Hall.”
”Where's it all going to end? If we keep on drifting we'll be over the Atlantic--next stop Europe. Then Superior will be crossing national boundaries instead of just state lines, and some country may decide we're violating its air s.p.a.ce and shoot us out of the sky.”
”I see you take the long view,” Clark said.
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