Norwood by Charles Portis

the mannaze?” he said.
    â€œThere’s not any,” said Heineman. “You’ll have to use that mustard, what’s left of it.”
    â€œMannaze is better with potted meat.” He scraped the mustard jar with his knife and got the stuff out in little dobs. “How about pickles?”
    â€œNo, it seems I’m out of everything, Tex. I didn’t know you were coming or I would have laid in some things. Some pearl onions. A relish tray. Perhaps a salad.”
    â€œYou know, I feel like a fool coming up here all this way and then Joe William is gone back home. I could of stopped off by his house on the way up. I come within just a few miles of it. I didn’t even think about that. His folks said he was up here.”
    â€œHow much does he owe you? If that’s not too personal.”
    â€œSeventy dollars.”
    â€œYeah, well, I’d call that a fool’s errand all right. Even if you had caught him here you probably wouldn’t have gotten the money. He’s a bigger sponge than I am. He fooled me with that country boy act and got out of here owing me twenty-five.”
    â€œHow did he go home, with that girl?”
    â€œI don’t know if he went bodily home with her or not. I think he flew.”
    â€œFlew? And here I am riding freight trains and he’s the one that owes me money.”
    â€œWell, it’s not enough to get upset about it, is it?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI mean seventy dollars is not really worth all the trouble, is it? Traveling what? Two thousand miles? And losing your boots? Figure it out.”
    â€œI was coming up here anyway. He owes me the money. It’s not a gambling debt, it’s out of my pocket.”
    â€œYeah, but it’s only seventy dollars. And what are your chances of getting it back with a guy like Reese? Didn’t you ever lose any money before? Hell, forget it. Go on back to—where do you work, Tex?”
    â€œI did work at the Nipper station in Ralph.”
    â€œThen forget it and go on back to the Nipper station in Ralph, I think you’ve got too much anxiety invested in that debt.”
    â€œI said I did work there. I don’t work there any more. I’m a Country and Western singer now.”
    â€œAll right, the point is, the money’s gone.”
    â€œI’ll get it.”
    â€œOkay, have it your way.”
    â€œBesides, I’d like to see him.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œIt’s not just the money.”
    â€œOkay, all right. It’s none of my business anyway.”
    Heineman got up and went to the refrigerator and brought back a little carton of cottage cheese. “You want some of this?”
    Norwood said, “I don’t eat that stuff.”
    â€œGood. There’s not enough to split anyway.” He put salt and pepper on it and ate it from the carton.
    â€œDo you know any beatnik girls?” said Norwood.
    Heineman ate and thought about it for a minute. “I know some who look like beatniks. I guess it’s the same thing. There’s one on the third floor. Yes, Marie’s a beatnik by any definition. Would you like to meet her?”
    â€œWell, yeah.”
    â€œShe sings, you know. I think you’ll like Marie.” He stopped eating and sniffed. He made a face and went to the living room window and leaned out. “Okay, Raimundo, knock off the grabass,” he said. “I told you not to burn any more of those stink bombs out there.”
    Raimundo was the one with the big sunglasses. He and the others kicked up sparks. “It’s a campfire!” he said.
    â€œNo, it’s not a campfire, it’s a mattress fire on East Eleventh Street and it stinks. Now put some water on it.”
    Raimundo went into another defiant spark dance. “We don’t want to.”
    â€œI said put it out.”
    â€œWe’re having fun.”
    â€œThat may be, but I don’t want you to have any fun.