Jonas was a stout man with thick forearms and smooth hands. Laugh lines dug into his face like grooves on a Victrola. When he talked, his bristly must...che wiggled like a caterpillar. Moe could never be sure if Jonas was happy in spite of living alone or because of it. But one thing was certain: Jonas Kreimer knew everyone that still resided in the old German neighborhood, and that was why Moe stopped in. ‘Hallo, Jonas.’ ‘Wie geht’s, Moe?’ ‘I’m getting by, Jonas.’ Moe looked around. The place. I figured it wasn't the right time and didn't bring up Tony or last night at all. We just sat watching TV and talking about other things all day. Amy didn't say a word about the night with Tony so I didn't bring it up either. All she ate all day was some crackers and I ate a couple sandwiches that I made for myself. She suffered from the hangover until it got dark. I asked her to tell me what happened when she got to Tony's and Amy said she didn't want to talk about it then. I didn't press it. More

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