If I ever felt like doing that sort of thing


Things have finally slowed down around here. Mrs. Slater doesn't push me so hard now that she's seen the kind of work I do. There's this older Chinese guy that comes in all the time. I was afraid he had it for me for a while, but then he offered me a job. Maybe he still has it for me. He says he'll give me half again more than I get here, but I'd have to work with all that oriental food. I don't have any idea how you're supposed to cut up an octopus.

Right now I'm staying with Albert and Trixie. Don't worry, though, they're both of them off dope, they say for good. They go down to this Methodist church on Sundays, and they're all the time after me to come, but I'm at the shop so late than I never do feel much like it, even if I ever felt like doing that sort of thing. But I'm up when they get back and they've got the brightest eyes and you should just hear the sound of Trixie's laugh. I never heard it like this before. It's like a bird. They seem so much happier here than they did when we were all in the desert.

When I woke up this morning I was feeling no good and I had a crooked neck until lunchtime. Then I was eating some egg salad and I was thinking about how good yours is and I came and sat down to write you this letter. I feel better now. You always made me feel better.

Are you still going to make it down next month? I hope you can. Maybe by the end of summer I'll be back in Tucson. Take of yourself; I'll take care of me.


Letters from Underground