“I’m a fireman.” said Jesús.  “We got a big convention here in town this weekend.”

“Where’s your red jacket?” asked Jim.  “I thought all you firemen wore red jackets.  – Or red suspenders or something.”

Jim laughed loudly at his own joke.

“Not all of us.” said Jesús, unamused. “I’m a fireman here in the City.”

The two men sat next to each other at a long bar.  Directly in front of them on a stage level with the bar, a girl danced wildly, gyrating her body to pulsing juke box music played at top volume, watching herself in the big mirror at the back of the stage, whipping herself with her long black hair.  The two men leaned toward each other in order to hear.

Tapped on the shoulder at the same time, both men turned around.  “You guys want some company?” said a girl in an orange bikini.  “I have to dance soon, but I got a couple of minutes.”

“Not me.” said Jesús, turning back to his drink.

Jim looked at the girl admiringly.  She reached out and touched his leg, turning him on his stool until his back was to Jesús, and moved to the bar to take the seat next to him.  “Buy me a drink?” she asked, still touching him, moving her hand up his leg, leaning in close to be heard. 

“All right.” said Jim.

The girl signaled the bartender, and a glass of pale liquid in a martini glass was placed in front of her.  Jim paid from his change on the bar, next to his drink.  “Where you from?” asked the girl.

“Here in town.” said Jim.  “I live across the River.”

“Your wife know you come in places like this?”

“I’m divorced.  She doesn’t care what I do.”

“So am I.” said the girl, taking a large swallow of her drink.  “It’s hell, but then so was living with the bastard.  He used to get drunk and beat me up.”

“I’m sorry.  Some men are like that.” said Jim.

Jesús watched the dark-haired dancer, who finished her dance and began to pick up her discarded clothes.  There was no applause until Jesús clapped his hands a few times noisily.  The girl nodded to him, smiled, and left the small stage.

“I got to go dance now.” said the girl in the orange bikini to Jim, finishing her drink.  “Unless you want to go in the back.  If we go in the back, I don’t have to dance.”

“How much?” said Jim.

“Twenty-five dollars for champagne.” said the girl.  “But it’s worth it.  We get to stay there for a whole hour.  It’ll be a good time.  I promise you that.”

“Not right now.” said Jim.  “Maybe later.  Thanks anyway.”

“Can I have these quarters?” said the girl, picking up coins from Jim’s change.  “For the juke box.  When you dance, you got to put the money in the juke box yourself.  From tips.”

“Not all of them.” said Jim, a little annoyed.  “You can have a dollar’s worth though, I guess.”

“Maybe later, after I dance, you and me could go in the back.” said the girl, touching him lightly between the legs.  “Don’t go back there with somebody else now, while I’m dancing.”

Jim nodded.

The girl took the coins and walked to the juke box, selecting her dance tunes.  Then she replaced the dark-haired girl on the small stage, smiling at Jim.  She danced only a moment to a very slow song before removing her bikini top.  As the first song ended, she removed her orange bikini bottom.  There was no applause.

“She looks tired.” said Jim to Jesús.

The naked girl moved gracefully, but without energy, dancing to the next slow song she’d picked.  “She’s been working all day, I guess.” said Jesús to Jim.  “Shaking your ass is a hard way to make a living.”

Jim looked around at the numerous customers and bargirls.  The small bar was crowded and busy.  “Should have gone in back with her.” he said to Jesús, laughing.  “Could have got her off her feet anyway.”

Jesús did not laugh.  “Don’t think I’d risk it.” he said.  “All the good-looking young ones got the clap.  She’d have given it to you for sure.  And the old ugly ones—they probably give you cancer.”

Jim laughed drunkenly.  “You’re probably right.” he said.

“Hell.” said Jesús.  “There’s a place about three blocks from here—it’s the top floor of an old hotel—all young stuff.  Good-looking. Clean, too.  You could probably stay there all night for what you spend in a place like this just on champagne and tips.”

“Really?” said Jim.  “What hotel?  Which floor?”

“Can’t get in there unless you’re a member.” said Jesús.  “Or with a member.  I’m going over there right after I leave here.  I’m a member.”

“Can I come, too?”

“Don’t normally take anybody with me.  They don’t give you a discount or anything for bringing somebody new.  And hell, for all I know, you could be a cop or something.  It’s too much trouble.”

“I’m not a cop.  I’m a salesman.” said Jim, reaching for his wallet.  “Look.  I’m not even from around here.  Look at my driver’s license.  Picture and everything.”

“I guess you’re okay.” said Jesús, looking hard at the wallet.  “But like I said, there’s nothing in it for me.”

Jim reached into the money compartment of the wallet.  “I’ll make it worth your while.’ he said.  “How much you want?  Five?  Ten?”

Jesús looked at the money compartment carefully.  “We can settle up later.” he said, getting up off his bar stool.  “Come on.  Finish your drink.  It’ll get crowded if we wait too much longer.”

Jim took a long swallow from his drink, looking up at the dancing girl, finally getting unsteadily to his feet.  “Sure is sad, but then I guess she was just after my money, like all the rest of them.”

“Probably so.” said Jesús.  “You can’t be too careful.  Everybody in a place like this is probably just after your money.”

“I guess you’re right.” said Jim, moving toward the door.

 “You sure you want to go?” asked Jesús, as he walked beside Jim on the crowded neon-blinking street.

“Yes.” said Jim drunkenly.  “It’s just—that orange girl.  Got to come back later and see her.  I feel really bad about it—standing her up.  She’s divorced like me.  And she lives here in town like me.”

“You told me you were from out of town.” said Jesús.

“I did.  – Well, yes, I am but I told her I…”

“And you said you were going home tomorrow morning to your wife and kids.”

“We’re getting a divorce.” said Jim.  “I just haven’t told her yet.  And then I’m going to move here.  Buy a bar or something.”

As they walked farther from the Block, the two men turned down a less crowded, darker side street.  A large dark building loomed in front of them at the end of the street.  “That’s it.” said Jesús.  “On the eighth floor.  They’ve got all the windows painted so no one can see inside.  – We got to go around back and up the stairs.  – That’s so the real guests don’t get suspicious.”

Jesús led the way into the alley beside the hotel.  Jim hesitated, not wanting to leave the dim light of the street for the total darkness of the alley.  “Just a minute.” he said.  “Isn’t there some other way?”

“This is the only way I know.” said Jesús.  “Don’t worry.  Just follow me.  Everything will be all right, I promise you.  I’ll stay out here in front and lead the way.”

“I’m not going.” said Jim.

“Suit yourself.  I’m going on in.” said Jesús.  “Stay out here if you want to.  But I’m telling you you’re going to be missing something nice.  The girls in here are the best in this town.”

“The best?”

Jesús did not answer.  Jim stepped forward slowly into the alley, trying to give his eyes time to adjust to the dark.  He walked the length of the passage and turned a corner.  In front of him, Jesús held open a door, which led to a dimly lit stairway.  “Is this it?” asked Jim.

“This is it.” said Jesús, one hand holding the door, the other caressing a metal object in his jacket pocket.  “You lead the way up, Jim.  In case anyone tries to follow us.  Don’t worry.  I’m right behind you.”

“Okay.” said Jim, excited.

As Jim mounted the stairs, Jesús hit him once on the back of the head with the heavy knife from his pocket, knocking him to the floor.  Leaning over, Jesús took Jim’s wallet from his coat, emptied the money compartment, and put the wallet back into the coat.  Quickly he turned and went out the door, and hurried around the corner and out of the alley.

A few blocks away, Jesús ducked into a dark restaurant bar, looking back over his shoulder to insure he was not being followed.  “Give me a bowl of that hot chili and a bottle of rum.” said Jesús to the silent bartender.  “Yeah, that flat bottle that fits in your pocket.  Where’s the restroom?”

The man behind the counter jerked his thumb toward the back of the empty room.  Jesús found the restroom and locked the door behind him.  There was no stall, only a dirty sink and commode in a small, dirty room.  Jesús sat down carefully on the edge of the sink and took the wad of money from the pocket of his denim jacket, sorting the bills by denomination, arranging them in a careful roll with the larger bills on the inside, safe from harm.  He put the roll of bills back into his jacket pocket, took out his pencil, and wrote ‘JAYBIRD WAS HERE’ on the wall.  Quickly he flushed the commode, then went back to the other room.  A steaming bowl of hot chili and a small bottle of rum waited for him.  He reached deep in his pants pocket and took out the last of the square folded dollars and all his coins and put them on the bar as he sat down.  “Keep the change.” he said to the counter man, leaning forward to sniff the chili.  “Man, I haven’t had anything this good for a long time.  Promised myself I’d just spend these bad boys on good times.”

The silent barman nodded sympathetically. 

“Where is everybody?” asked Jesús suddenly, beginning to eat.  “Saturday night, and the place is empty?”

“Everybody left.” said the man.  “Middle-aged couple got to arguing and drove everybody away.  Then she stabbed him in the face.”

“In the face?  Jesus.  What was that about?” said Jesús, surveying the room, looking at the empty tables, chairs and barstools.  The room was very quiet, without music from the jukebox or noise from the television.

“I couldn’t quite figure it out.  She kept calling him ‘Sissy fucker’ and saying that he was fucking their daughter.  Didn’t make no sense to me.  And he kept laughing at her.  They were both pretty drunk.  And then she picked up a knife from the table and stabbed him right in the side of the face.  It was a bloody mess.  Cops came and took both of them away.  I just finished cleaning it up.”

“Jesus.” said Jesús.

“They said they were best friends when they come in.” said the man with a shrug.  “Just wanted to drink beer and play the jukebox.”

“Best friends?” said Jesús, with a laugh.  “Sometimes those are the worst kind.”

The door jingled as three people entered the restaurant.  Jesús turned, looked at the people, then turned back to his chili.  But turned again almost immediately to stare at the new customers.  “Sol, is that you?  Sally?  Sammy?  What the hell are you guys doing here?”

The two men put down the three crates they are carrying, and the girl set a portable tape player on top of the pile.  The two men slipped out of heavy coats—the woman kept hers on— and they came into the bar.  “Hey, Jesse.” said Solomon, then spoke to the bartender.  “Can I get breakfast for three?”

The barman nodded, and Solomon continued.  “Okay, give me a dozen scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, coffee, orange juice.  You know the drill.  Thanks, man!  —  Hey, Jesse, where you been, man?”

Solomon shook hands heartily, as if he were glad to see Jesús.  Samson and Salome also shook hands, but moved away quickly to a table as far from the bar as possible.

“Down south for a stretch.” said Jesús, without emotion.

“Yeah, I remember now.  My brother said he saw you down there.” said Solomon.  “He said you was going in as he was coming out.  Said something else crazy.  Said you got stabbed, but the knife got stuck in a book.  What the hell was that all about?”

“True story.” said Jesús.  “Guy tried to rob me—can you imagine that? —caught me off guard, you know—when I didn’t give it up quick enough, he stabbed me in the chest, but the knife got stuck in this book.”

Very casually, Jesús reached into the breast pocket of his denim work shirt and pulled out the New Testament Bible with the hole through the center.  “Mister Charles gave it to me last year.  Said I needed it more than he did.  He was sure right about that, but I don’t think that’s what he meant.  – The guy must have thought he hit bone, because he pulled it out and tried to go in again, but by then I had my knife in his gut and he was down.  Judge said “self defense”, but I still had to do a year because of the knife.  – Only mark on me was a little scar, a little “x”, you know, a “cross” mark.  I’ve been reading the book every day since then.”

“Wow, man, that’s some story.”

“What about you guys?  How are you doing?” asked Jesús.  “Are you and Sammy still sharing Sally?  I never did understand how the hell that worked.  But I’ve always been jealous as hell.”

Solomon laughed.  “We’re still doing the perfume show.  That’s our best one.  But we got a couple other tricks we pull out if that one gets old.  Anything to stay away from real work.  – But we’re always moving around.  One step ahead of them, you know.  We try to get back home for Christmas every year though.  That’s why we’re back here now.”

Jesús took a couple bites of chili, drank a little rum, and offered the bottle to Solomon, who took a slow sip.  “Man, that’s good.” said Solomon, handing the bottle back.  “Cold as hell out there, ain’t it, man?  – I let Sammy do most of the heavy lifting with Sally these days.  But even he has to get help sometimes, if you’re interested.  Not sure why it works, but it still does.  It’s like I’m the brain, and Sam is the body, and Sally is the glue that holds it all together.  It just works that way.”

“Rita would cut Sally’s throat and mine, too.  Besides I’m a little slow down there myself these days.  That’s what a year inside does to you.”

“Tell me about it, man.” said Solomon.  “I was telling somebody earlier this evening—if I have to do one more backflip, I’m going to cut my own balls off—young guy, he didn’t understand what I was saying.  None of the young ones do.  But he wants to work with us.  I’ve been trying to figure out how he could fit in all night long.  Other than helping out with Sally, you know.  I mean, maybe he could be a shill or something.”

The barman came out of the kitchen with a huge platter of eggs, bacon, and toast.  Solomon pointed to the table where Samson and Salome were seated.  “We’ll eat back there.” he said to the barman, then added to Jesús.  “Hey, man.  Great to see you.  Tell Rita Old Sol says “Hello”.  Maybe we’ll see each other around town over the holidays.”

“Maybe.” said Jesús, shaking Solomon’s hand once again as he walked away, then turning back to his chili and rum.  “You guys have a great Christmas!”      

The girl stopped moving up and down.  “Whew.” she said.  “You sure you haven’t come yet.”

“Couple hours ago.” said Jack.  “But that was with another girl.”

“What are you trying to do?  A hat trick?” asked Cat.

“A hat what?”

“A hat trick.” said Cat.  “Fuck three different girls in one night?”

“No.” said Jack, laughing.  “Sounds like fun, though.”

“Fun?  Well, maybe it’s time for you to do some of the work.” said Cat, also laughing, carefully twisting around until her back is to him, but somehow keeping him inside her.  “Stand up, but hold on to me.”

Jack stood easily, holding the girl around the waist.  Her feet were on the edge of the seat.  She braced her hands on to the shelf on the opposite wall.  “Now.” said Cat.  “Fuck me, Jack.  Fuck me hard.”

After a minute or two, Jack gasped, breathing hard, and slowly brought his rhythmic thrusting to a halt.  “God.  That’s good.” he said, sitting back down on the bench.  “Thank you.”

Cat twisted around, smiling.  “Good for me, too.  You’re welcome.”

The girl sat back against the soldier, then slid to his side on the bench.  “Whew.” she said again.  “I need a drink of water.”

She poured a glass of clear liquid from the champagne bottle and left the bottle out of the ice bucket, wiping herself with the towel and quickly pulling her sweater back over her head.  Jack reached for his beer glass, but it was empty.  “I’m dry, too.” he said, carefully pulling off the rubber, wiping himself with the towel, putting rubber and towel back into the ice bucket, and carefully zipping himself back into his pants.  “A tip for Freddy.” he said, gesturing at the bucket.

“Here.” said Cat, pouring from the bottle into his mug.  “Drink this.  It’s only water.”

Jack drank gratefully.  Cat settled back onto the overcoat cushion of the bench, reached into her pocket and lit a cigarette.  “You want a smoke?” she asked Jack.

“How much time is left?” asked Jack, waving away the smoke and the offer of a cigarette.

“I don’t know.  Fifteen minutes maybe?  Why?” said Cat, swinging her legs into his lap again.

“Is it over?”  asked Jack.

“What else do you want to do?” asked Cat.

“Can I kiss you?” asked Jack.

“Sure.  Just don’t get too excited.  I need to rest a bit.”

Gently, Jack touched her face and kissed her, then laughed.  “I just want to be able to say I kissed you, too.” said Jack, touching her thighs.

She laughed.  “I don’t do this all the time.” she said.  “Just on weekends when the money’s good.  During the week, I work in a sandwich shop.  Making submarines.  – Heroes they call them some places.  – Two-dollars-an-hour, but I’m going to get a real job soon.”

“What kind of job?” asked Jack.

“I thought maybe secretary or something, you know, office work.  Maybe in the Courthouse.  They have it pretty good in there.”

“Sounds good.” said Jack.

“You want another beer?” said Cat.  “I can go behind the bar and get you one for free.”

“I don’t think so.” said Jack.  “I guess I better go before Freddy comes back for another tip.”

Cat laughed.  “Don’t worry about Freddy.  He’s all talk.”

“Maybe I’ll see you again next payday, Cat.” said Jack.  “If I haven’t shipped out by then.”

“Maybe so.” said Cat. “You can come see me at the sandwich shop if you want to, before you get paid again.”

“What?”

“Little sandwich shop up the street, behind the Courthouse.” said the girl.  “Called the Filling Station.”

“No, I couldn’t do that.” said Jack.  “I’d be thinking about what we just did, and I wouldn’t be able to eat.”

Cat laughed.  “They’re good subs.” she said.  “Fill you right up.  I work from ten until six on week days.”

“Maybe.” said Jack.  “I don’t get to town too often.”

“Just come see me when you do.  You wouldn’t have to pay or anything.” said the girl, with a smile.  “And we could eat at the sub shop.  Everything would be free.”

“I’ll come see you again real soon then.” said Jack laughing.

“You do that.” said the girl, pulling her legs from his lap.

The girl stepped out of the booth, and held the string beads back so Jack could step out, too.  Jack leaned back into the booth and retrieved his heavy overcoat from the bench.  “Thank you, Cat.” said Jack formally.

“You’re welcome.” said Cat laughing.

Slowly Jack extended his hand for a final handshake, but the girl took the hand and held it against her butt, and hugging him, kissed his cheek gently.  “Come see me.” she said again, softly, into his ear. 

Quickly then, Jack left the bar, without looking at anyone around him.  Outside, squinting at the bright lights after the darkness of the bar, Jack said to Buster.  “Thank you, Sir.”

“You take care now, young man.  And you stop hanging around places like this.”

“I will.” said Jack, laughing.  “Where should I hang around?”

“Go home.  Go to bed.  Get up early tomorrow morning, and go to church.”

“Is there any pussy in the church?” asked Jack, laughing.

“Sure.  Plenty of pussy.  Why do you think I go there?  – You want pussy.  Go to church.  Go down there in the morning.  Tell them you’re going overseas.  Leaving right away, right now.  You’ll get all the pussy you can handle.”

“Really?” said Jack laughing.

Buster nodded.

“I might just do that.”

As the soldier walked away, Buster called to him.  “You stay out of trouble now, you hear me?”

But the soldier did not answer.

“You still got my box?” asked Junior, chewing hard on a mouthful of bubble gum, purchased from a vending machine.  “I need to get back to work.”

“Of course, young one.” said the old gypsy woman.  “I knew you would return for it tonight.  I saw it in the cards.”

“The cards?” asked Junior, innocently.

“Do not play games, young one.  You know the cards of which I speak.  Sit down.”

Junior sat down across the narrow table from the old woman.  A single candle was still the only light in the little room.  Under the table, the old woman gripped the boy’s knees between her own bony legs.  From a pocket on the side of her dress she took a worn deck of cards, shuffling them slowly in her old hands, finally laying the stack on the table, taking the boy’s hands in her own.  “So, you would play games with me, yes?” said the old woman.

“No.” said Junior, chomping his gum, unable to keep from smiling.  “I guess I forgot.”

The old woman took the boy’s hand and guided it through a slit in the front of her dress, placing it against the bare skin of her withered breast.  The boy tried to pull his hand away, but the old woman held it there for a long minute, closing her eyes and licking at her thin lips.  “My heart must see into your heart, young one.  Be still.”

Finally, the old woman released the boy’s hand.  He drew it back slowly.  The old gypsy woman picked up the worn deck and laid the first ten cards out quickly in an odd configuration, the first two cards in the center laid on top of each other at an angle.  The old woman motioned toward the two central cards.  “The bottom card is the present.  Things as they exist at this moment.  The cross card is those forces which oppose the present card.”

The old woman turned over the main card.  “Ah, the fair Queen.  Bringer of much joy and much sorrow.  Truly the present for you is a time of great possibility.  – And the fair Queen is opposed by…”

She turned over the cross card and continued.  “…the dark Knight.  Truly the forces of good and evil wage bitter war for your soul.  Great powers are at work in your young life.”

The old woman paused, looking at the boy.

“What about the next card?” asked Junior.

“The next four would explain the conflict.  And the last four would predict the future.  As you well know, young one.  But, alas, they are closed to us.”

“Closed?”

“Do you have a dollar, young one?” asked the old woman.

Junior shook his head.

“You must give me money, or the cards will not reveal their true meanings to me.  It is a sign of your commitment to the truth.  This is the promise of the sacred oath written in fire on the soul of every man and woman and child.”

Junior laughed suddenly.  “I had some change, but I spent it on gum.  – Can I have my box now, please?”

“You must return tonight, or you will be in grave danger.  It is not wise to scoff at the cards.  The cards see all and know all.  The forces of good and evil are constantly at work in the lives of men.”

The old woman rose slowly and went through the beaded curtains into the back room.  In a moment she returned with an old box stuffed with rags and brushes and tins of shoe polish.  “This is what you seek, young one?” asked the woman.

“Yes, ma’am.  Thank you for taking care of it for me.  I’ll try to pay you back what I owe you.” said Junior, trying not to smile, taking the box.

“You must return here tonight.  There are many readings we can do.  But I cannot do them without payment, for that would violate my sacred oath to help only those who truly believe.  The proof of the truth of your belief is the money you are willing to part with to learn the message of the cards.  Do you understand, young one?”

“I’ll try to come back tonight.  But I may not make it.  If I don’t, I’ll see you tomorrow and give you some of the money I owe you.”

“That will be time enough.” said the old gypsy woman.

Out in the street, Junior hurried through the crowds to his accustomed corner, setting up his kit quickly.  “Shine, sir?” he called to a man passing by, but the man did not respond. 

“Shine ‘em up for you gentlemen?” Junior said to a group of firemen.

“My ass.” said one of the group.  “You can shine my ass if you want to, but I ain’t going to pay you for it when you get done.”

The other members of the group laughed.  Junior ignored them, and they passed on.

“You’re too late, Junior.” said a barker from a nearby bar.  “All the dudes is already done their business and gone home to count their blessings.  You missed it!”

From around the corner, a soldier, carrying a heavy overcoat, started walking toward Junior, thinking about something else, a faraway look in his eyes.  He bumped up against the boy accidentally.  “Sorry.” he mumbled.

“It’s okay.” said Junior.  “You want your boots shined?”

“Ain’t got no money.” said Jack.

“Some of the girls get all your change?” 

“One of them did.  And some other people, too.  But it was worth it, I guess.”

“Sure is getting cold.” said the boy.

Jack shivered slightly and put on the heavy overcoat.  “Yeah, it was worth it, though, I guess.” he repeated.

“I know.” said Junior.  “It always is.”

“Is there a church around here somewhere?” asked Jack suddenly.

“Sure, over there.” said Junior, pointing in the direction of Old Town.

“What time do they start up in the morning?”

“I don’t know.  They ring the bell all morning long.  That’s how I always know it’s Sunday.  – You mean you want to go to church?”

“Maybe.  If I can find a place to stay the night.”

“You can stay in the bus station.  But sometimes they hassle you in there if you ain’t got a ticket.  Best place is the Park.  Won’t nobody bother you over there.  I stayed there lots of nights this summer.”

“Maybe I will.” said Jack.

A young woman in a red dress, with a slit up the side, came from down the street, her eyes glazed and vacant, tired from her night’s work.  “Hi, sugar!” she said to the soldier.  “You want to go for a ride?”

“Don’t have a car.” said Jack.

“Don’t need one.” said the girl, laughing.

Jack got the message.  “No money.” he said simply.

The girl looked away immediately and saw Junior, who had backed off to stand against the building, staring down at the sidewalk.  “How about you, sweetie?” she said.  “You ready to go again?”

“Ain’t got no money neither.” said Junior, not looking at her.

“Never will make no money shining shoes.  When you going to get a real job?”

“Got one.  This is my last night here.” said Junior suddenly.  “I start tomorrow.  Working for Leon.  Over behind the Block.”

The girl laughed.  “You’re kidding?” she said.

“No. Really.”

“You know what they do over there?”

“Sure.”

The girl laughed loudly, for a long moment, then started across the street toward a small group of firemen.  Over her shoulder, she said.  “Well, good luck to you, sweetie!  I’ll believe it when I see it!”

“Hey.” said Jack suddenly, his hand in the side pocket of his uniform coat, bringing out a few dollar bills.  “I do have some money, too.  I forgot about this money from the pool games.”

“You want me to shine your boots for a dollar?” said Junior quickly.

“Sure.” said Jack.  “That way I’ll look good in church tomorrow morning.”

“And it’ll help me get square with some people I owe money to.” said Junior.  “Then I can start fresh tomorrow, and not owe anybody for anything.”

“Well, okay.  Shine away.” said Jack.  “You helped me, so it’s only fair that I should help you if I can.”

“Fair’s fair.” said Junior, smiling once again.