CHAPTER 6

Overindulgence

Six-thirteen had taken on an air of prosperity. Against the first shadows of approaching twilight, candles were lit and set throughout the house. The little flickers of fire filled the place with warmth by temporarily hiding the starkness of its interior; every effort was made by this hopeful group to stop the world by looking at life under the cloak of changing shadows rather than in the clarity of a steady light.

While preparing dinner, they functioned as an organic group: Kerry made the salad, Nat broiled the steaks, Melisa boiled potatoes and heated canned vegetables, Gladys set the table, Julian poured the drinks, and Santo found records to play on an old hi-fi. This cooperation inspired a sense of good will. And to their surprise, dinner was ready by seven.

The meal was devoured with gluttony and haste. And in the end, they all suffered from the pain of overindulgence, which forced them to disperse throughout the house in a gentle misery.

Santo and Melisa went to what had become “their room” at Six-thirteen. They felt like a couple of beached whales after they threw themselves on the mattress. And when they realized neither one of them had enough energy to spare the other a kiss, they laughed and settled for holding hands. The glow of the candle's single dancing lumen lulled them into a calm slumber, leaving the darkened house on 613 West Jefferson Street silent from the effects of wine and plunder.