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IN THE town there were two mutes； and they were always
together。 Early every morning they would come out from
the house where they lived and walk arm in arm down the
street to work。 The two friends were very different。 The
one who always steered the way was an obese and
dreamy Greek。 In the summer he would come out
wearing a yellow or green polo shirt stuffed sloppily into
his trousers in front and hanging loose behind。 When it
was colder he wore over this a shapeless gray sweater。
His face was round and oily； with half…closed eyelids and
lips that curved in a gentle； stupid smile。 The other mute
was tall。 His eyes had a quick； intelligent expression。 He
was always immaculate and very soberly dressed。
Every morning the two friends walked silently together until
they reached the main street of the town。 Then when they
came to a certain fruit and candy store they paused for a
moment on the sidewalk outside。 The Greek； Spiros
Antonapoulos； worked for his cousin； who owned this fruit
store。 His job was to make candies and sweets； uncrate the
fruits； and to keep the place clean。 The thin mute； John Singer；
nearly always put his hand on his friend's arm and looked for a
second into his face before leaving him。 Then after this goodbye Singer crossed the street and walked on alone to the
jewelry store where he worked as a silverware engraver。
In the late afternoon the friends would meet again。 Singer
came back to the fruit store and waited until Antonapoulos
was ready to go home。 The Greek would be lazily unpacking a
case of peaches or melons； or perhaps
2
looking at the funny paper in the kitchen behind the store
where he cooked。 Before their departure Antonapoulos always
opened a paper sack he kept hidden during the day on one of
the kitchen shelves。 Inside were stored various bits of food he
had collected—a piece of fruit； samples of candy； or the butt…
end of a liverwurst。 Usually before leaving Antonapoulos
waddled gently to the glassed case in the front of the store
where some meats and cheeses were kept。 He glided open the
back of the case and his fat hand groped lovingly for some
particular dainty inside which he had wanted。 Sometimes his
cousin who owned the place did not see him。 But if he noticed
he stared at his cousin with a warning in his tight； pale face。
Sadly Antonapoulos would shuffle the morsel from one corner
of the case to the other。 During these times Singer stood very
straight with his hands in his pockets and looked in another
direction。 He did not like to watch this little scene between the
two Greeks。 For； excepting drinking and a certain solitary
secret pleasure； Antonapoulos loved to eat more than anything
else in the world。
In the dusk the two mutes walked slowly home together。 At
home Singer was always talking to Antonapoulos。 His hands
shaped the words in a swift series of designs。 His face was
eager and his gray…green eyes sparkled brightly。 With his thin；
strong hands he told Antonapoulos all that had happened
during the day。
Antonapoulos sat back lazily and looked at Singer。 It was
seldom that he ever moved his hands to speak at all— and
then it was to say that he wanted to eat or to sleep or to drink。
These three things he always said with the same vague；
fumbling signs。 At night； if he were not too drunk； he would
kneel down before his bed and pray awhile。 Then his plump
hands shaped the words 'Holy Jesus；' or 'God；' or 'Darling
Mary。' These were the only words Antonapoulos ever said。
Singer never knew just how much his friend understood of all
the things he told him。 But it did not matter。
They shared the upstairs of a small house near the business
section of the town。 There were two rooms。 On the oil stove in
the kitchen Antonapoulos cooked all of their meals。 There
were straight； plain kitchen chairs for Singer and an
overstuffed sofa for Antonapoulos。 The bedroom
3
was furnished mainly with a large double bed covered with an
eiderdown comforter for the big Greek and a narrow iron cot
for Singer。
Dinner always took a long time； because Antonapoulos loved
food and he was very slow。 After they had eaten； the big
Greek would lie back on his sofa and slowly lick over each
one of his teeth with his tongue； either from a certain delicacy
or because he did not wish to lose the savor of the meal—
while Singer washed the dishes。
Sometimes in the evening the mutes would play chess。 Singer
had always greatly enjoyed this game； and years before he had
tried to teach it to Antonapoulos。 At first his friend could not
be interested in the reasons for moving the various pieces
about on the board。 Then Singer began to keep a bottle of
something good under the table to be taken out after each
lesson。 The Greek never got on to the erratic movements of
the knights and the sweeping mobility of the queens； but he
learned to make a few set； opening moves。 He preferred the
white pieces and would not play if the black men were given
him。 After the first moves Singer worked out the game by
himself while his friend looked on drowsily。 If Singer made
brilliant attacks on his own men so that in the end the black
king was killed； Antonapoulos was always very proud and
pleased。
The two mutes had no other friends； and except when they
worked they were alone together。 Each day was very much
like any other day； because they were alone so much that
nothing ever disturbed them。 Once a week they would go to
the library for Singer to withdraw a mystery book and on
Friday night they attended a movie。 Then on payday they
always went to the ten…cent photograph shop above the Army
and Navy Store so that Antonapoulos could have his picture
taken。 These were the only places where they made customary
visits。 There were many parts in the town that they had never
even seen。
The town was in the middle of the deep South。 The summers
were long and the months of winter cold were very few。
Nearly always the sky was a glassy； brilliant azure and the sun
burned down riotously bright。 Then the light； chill rains of
November would come； and perhaps later there would be frost
and some short months of cold。 The winters were changeable；
but the summers always4
were burning hot。 The town was a fairly large one。 On the
main street there were several blocks of two… and three…story
shops and business offices。 But the largest buildings in the
town were the factories； which employed a large percentage of
the population。 These cotton mills were big and flourishing
and most of the workers in the town were very poor。 Often in
the faces along the streets there was the desperate look of
hunger and of loneliness。
But the two mutes were not lonely at all。 At home they were
content to eat and drink； and Singer would talk with bis hands
eagerly to his friend about all that was in his mind。 So the
years passed in this quiet way until Singer reached the age of
thirty…two and had been in the town with Antonapoulos for ten
years。
Then one day the Greek became ill。 He sat up in bed with his
hands on his fat stomach and big； oily tears rolled down his
cheeks。 Singer went to see his friend's cousin who owned the
fruit store； and also he arranged for leave from his own work。
The doctor made out a diet for Antonapoulos and said that he
could drink no more wine。 Singer rigidly enforced the doctor's
orders。 All day he sat by his friend's bed and did what he
could to make the time pass quickly； but Antonapoulos only
looked at him angrily from the corners of his eyes and would
not be amused。
The Greek was very fretful； and kept finding fault with the
fruit drinks and food that Singer prepared for him。 Constantly
he made his friend help him out of bed so that he could pray。
His huge buttocks would sag down over his plump little feet
when he kneeled。 He fumbled with his hands to say 'Darling
Mary' and then held to the small brass cross tied to his neck
with a dirty string。 His big eyes would wall up to the ceiling
with a look of fear in them； and afterward he was very sulky
and would not let his friend speak to him。
Singer was patient and did all that he could。 He drew little
pictures； and once he made a sketch of his friend to amuse
him。 This picture hurt the big Greek's feelings； and he refused
to be reconciled until Singer had made his face very young
and handsome and colored his hair bright yellow and his eyes
china blue。 And then he tried not to show his pleasure。
Singer nursed his friend so carefully that after a week
5
Antonapoulos was able to return to his work。 But from that
time on there was a difference in their way of life。 Trouble
came to the two friends。
Antonapoulos was not ill any more； but a change had come in
him。 He was irritable and no longer content to spend the
evenings quietly in their home。 When he would wish to go out
Singer followed along close behind him。 Antonapoulos would
go into a restaurant； and while they sat at the table he slyly put
lumps of sugar； or a pepper…shaker； or pieces of silverware in
bis pocket。 Singer always