Chapter 8—Just How Much Can a Man Take?
In which Emil throws over the world and ends up in the trash.
here was no way he could do what Emil had said.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to, maybe he did, but he couldn’t, heust couldn’t. He didn’t even know why. There were places he’d rather be.But right now, he was here. And he couldn’t do what Emil had said.There was no reason, except that everything inside him said no. He wentback to work, determined to rid the kitchen of every spot. He couldhardly look at the spots. They yawned at him big as ditches full of death.Eddie had been working for just a few minutes when
uddenly Emilran to the middle of the kitchen and stood there yelling at the First Cook.“You bastard First Cook. What do you come over here bothering us for?You couldn’t care less, you stupid creep. Why don’t you take those spotsand stuff them up your ass. What right you got to blame us foreverything. It ain’t our fault. You’re probably clamming on themyourself.”First Cook put on his steely grin. “Shut up, punk.”That lit Emil up worse; his ﬁsts were clenched, his back slightly bent,big veins bunched at the side of his throat, his eyeballs popping out.