Chapter 2

We delivered. The Bill of Lading had Tony's pegged. We had to open every box, sort out the clear glass and put green glass in the empty holes. The clear jars we tossed.

Tony didn't like that. Tossing, that is. He came back to investigate the noise.

"WHAT ARE YOUSE DOIN'?"

"Sortin'," Josie said.

"YOUSE ARE BREAKIN' MY JARS!"

"Ayup," said Josie.

"WHY IS YOUSE SORTIN'?"

"You have the wrong jars in the bosses boxes. Put the green glass in the bosses boxes," explained Josie.

"SHIT!" Tony exclaimed. "YOUSE IS 'SPOSED TO TAKE BOXES!"

"The boss charges the delivery people ten cents each for each clear glass jar," Josie said.

"I KNOW THAT!" yelled Tony.

"We ain't paying' no dime a jar, Tony," said Josie. "Put the green glass in the green glass boxes."

"GOOD GOD A'MIGHTY! I AIN'T GOT TIME FOR THAT!"

"We know ... that's why we're doin' your job for you," she said. "And we're only chargin' you ten cents a jar to sort 'em out. Sixty cents a box."

"WHAT?" he screamed.

"Sixty cents a box. If we didn't have to open each box we wouldn't have to charge you. If you'd left the boxes open we could just look."

Tony went for his phone

Pretty soon a raft of kids came in the back door and started sorting jars.

Josie watched. I loaded correct boxes.

The truck unloaded, the warehouse locked and all doors checked, Josie thanked me for the job, and loaded herself into my pickup.

"Josie?"

A faint snore blew the hair from her green face.

Josie never rides home with me. Josie never rides home with anybody. Other than the green color, Josie is ... beautiful.