tools down from a short guy who was staring
over the top of a half empty glass of beer. The bartender moved a step
in his direction and waited.

"I'll have a beer," Joe said, putting a five dollar bill in front of
him. The bartender was about forty. He had a blonde crew cut and a face
like a poker chip, Robert Redford run into a door. He set the beer
down, made change, and resumed his position. It was oddly as though he
hadn't moved at all.

"I was in the service--with a guy named Shannon. Long time ago. Said he
was from around here." Silence. Friendly place.

"Which service?" Shorty didn't turn his head.

"Air Force."

"That'd be Bobby," Shorty said.

"Yeah," Joe said, "Bobby."

"Jacky, he went in the Navy."

"Bobby was a good guy. He around?" Shorty glanced at the bartender.
They had a committee meeting.

"California," the bartender said.

"California," Shorty confirmed. "Stayed in and retired. He's out there
cashing checks with eagles on 'em."

"Shit," Joe said. "Would'a liked to seen him."

"Two more, Floyd." The gambler said, putting a twenty on the bar.

The bartender laid two quarter rolls soundlessly next to the bill and
asked, "You come around just to look up Bobby Shannon?"

"I, ah, well, got sick of working. Had some money saved. Thought I'd
take a break, look around." Shorty shook his head. "I mean, what do you
do after . . . " Joe meant, after you'd done pretty well, at least
compared to these guys.

The bartender said:

"Beware of gnawing the ideogram of nothingness:

Your teeth will crack. Swallow it whole, and you've a treasure

Beyond the hope of Buddha and the Mind. The east breeze

Fondles the horses ears: how sweet the smell of plum."

"What!?"

"Mitsuhiro, 17th century," the bartender said. For an instant his eyes
came at Joe like horses jumping the gate.

"Who are you?" Joe asked.

"Pretty Boy Floyd," said Shorty. "Best athlete ever come out of this
town." There was a blaze of sound from the poker machine followed by a
crash of quarters. Shorty turned his head. "I'll take some of that,
Earl."

"Can't win if you don't play," Earl said.

"Used to pitch for the Pirates," Shorty said. The bartender's
expression didn't change. Joe noticed that he stood balanced on both
feet.

"Why aren't you teaching in a university somewhere?" Joe asked him.

"You know Bob Dylan's line about the difference between hospitals and
universities?"

"No."

"More people