“Well?” she asked. “I haven’t got all night. Can I bum a cigarette off you or not?” Realizing that this was his opportunit..., he came back to himself. “You know, smoking cigarettes is bad for you.” He told her, working for cool. He got up from the low wall and stepped off the curb. “So is waking up in the morning. You don’t see me complaining. If I didn’t want a smoke I wouldn’t have asked you, Jimmy.” There it was again. Her. Beside her on the cart’s seat sat the old man called ‘Rattlesnake Charles.’ Even if Charles was a stranger to me, I’d have known him anywhere because of his queer accoutrements: the old man traveled everywhere with a rattlesnake draped across his shoulders. If you asked Charles why he toted a rattlesnake around, he’d tell you that the snake was too big to fit in his pockets. His way of saying, ‘mind your own business.’ An entourage of children always followed Charles whenever he came to town,. More

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