"You're still in bed?" Olivia said coming back from the beauty parlor; giving him a look of dazzling disdain.

"Olivia," Byrom said smoothly since her name began with a vowel but when he added that the custard stand was closed on Mondays his whistles hit the fan.

She looked at him with a face that could have been his father's and dismissed his come hither wave with contempt.

"Olivia?"

"I have a headache!"

"Olivia?" he whispered softer.

"Go to hell - whistling man!" she said turning her back on him abruptly while taking off one earring.

"Why don't you open the stand on your own initiative and tell my son that you will keep most of the profits? Are you afraid of Ronny, Byrom?"

He recalled his father whom he called "the Old Warrior" in honor of his harsh demeanor to what a gentleman owed to pride and arrogance. His words still touched him deeply ..."Staying in one place Byrom until one gets his bearings and then along will come good things that of course might demand more from one and if he lets go, as far as progress is concerned, he would have to face life with the consequences just like the riff-raff who are too lazy to get work and so all their children will have pockets empty of any possible dreams and they can't blame us for their failures! " .... Byrom felt all the unease he felt the day he told his father he was quitting the elite private school and going to find a position, instead; knowing his father felt that he was falling among all the masses who were deserving of an "ignorant education" and only useful to labor at keeping the economy fueled or to go to war and die when the country's interests were being endangered. "A medal a day, Byrom, keeps the terrorist away!" ....

He would show this man whom he had sucked in his breath for - so much respect he had for him - that he would make the best custard in Ohio that even the glorious rich would enjoy. He would show his father and Ronny Moneybags he could get big shiny medals.

"(Whistle) your (whistle) son-"

She interrupted his speech therapist's suggestion he whistle before saying words beginning with a consonant so they would come out whole by saying: "Well, mister person who was supposed to be named after the great poet with the club-foot can you finish what you tried to do this morning in a more successful way - this time?"

He could feel all the unhidden pall of irritation copulating among her words. In a forceful move he mounted her but after a minute she pushed him off saying he was the softest and quickest gun in the west and then lifted herself wearily from the bed as if carrying all the burdens of wives of rich and powerful men.

The very next day she told him to leave; that she no longer wanted to be used as a connection to her son.

He wanted to tell her they were both using each other in a cynical way but instead he tried to suck out pity from her by telling her - not using the whistle - that he always felt like a motherless child; always being eaten by bats, the shape of ladles with wings that his grandfather had used on his head just because he did not know how to rotate his foods properly and swallowed up by the long wooden matches his father had used to burn his flesh for his having done another "fifth infraction". How he envied his father's dedication to perfection.

"Olivia, do you believe the child is the father of the man?" he said looking away from the shape of her eyes.

"Get out fool. You are no longer part of my life!" Olivia said with the same disdain his father had used when telling him that losing positions one after another was the action of a total failure and indeed he was afraid he would not loan Byrom the money to get a bridge that might have given him a smile and a better chance to succeed in the art of making money.

"You'll never do any end runs with other peoples' money. You'll be doomed to failure, Byrom, I'm afraid! You'll be a man with no smile among a world of fools who would have been willing to stuff your pockets with money - so you could have made them pseudo millionaires!" ....

Byrom stood in the hallway for nearly ten minutes after Olivia slammed the door in his face.

"(Whistle) Father," he whispered but then quickly corrected himself by saying loudly: "Olivia!" Olivia!"