Ben stood at the bar filling out a rental application. Now and then Pete buzzed someone through the front door, more often waving them off.
A wrinkled old crone edged toward Ben, sidling behind the bar stools until she stood at his elbow. Pete looked over and walked toward them shouting.
“MOM, THIS IS BEN. YOUR NEW NEIGHBOR. BEN.”
The sudden blast from Pete shook Ben back on his stool.
“She’s a little deaf,” Pete said. “She has the place next to yours on the third floor.”
The old lady smiled at Ben and spoke quietly.
“This is my place, understand? I’ve run this place for the past sixty years and managed to keep it open in spite of everything and everyone. Pay your rent on time and we’ll get along.”
“BEN HERE IS FROM OUT OF TOWN. THIS IS HIS FIRST PLACE IN THE CITY,” Pete said.
“A lot of people who lived on this street called it their last place in the city,” the woman said.
Ben finished the forms and wrote a check.
Ennis took the check and tucked it into her bra.
“Anus,” Pete said, “that’s not a bank, goddamnit, even though I’ve changed a fifty in your bra.”
Jilly stood behind her mother and stepped out, smoothing her hips, shoulders back.
“I suppose you’ll want these,” she said, thrusting her breasts forward and handing him a set of keys at the same time.
Ennis pulled the check out and handed it to Pete, then arranged her shirt over her bra so the pockets landed in the right place.
“Ben has to go back downtown for his stuff. Right Ben? Down at Mike’s? Jilly, why don’t you go with him. Help him get around town on the right trains so he doesn’t take all day,” Pete said.
