"I must be," she said. She stepped into the shed another pace or two. She was tall and lithe, with short hair. Although the light was dim, Jack could see that she was beautiful. Stunning even, like a high fashion model. "Uncle Claudie told me about you," she said. "He took a shine to you." She squatted down and looked him full in the face. "I can see why. You're a pretty man." She smiled and her teeth glowed in the dim light. "I'd rather be handsome," he grinned. He felt foolish. He was sitting on the floor of a shed on some old black man's property and a beautiful black girl was telling him he was pretty. Christ. What the hell was going on? 47 "Sometimes pretty is past handsome," she replied. "Like Elvis. Elvis was pretty, more than handsome. Paul Newman is handsome. Sidney Poitier is handsome. Billy Dee Williams is handsome. You and Elvis, y'all pretty." She laughed again. "When you put it that way it doesn't sound so bad." "No other way to put it. You hungry? Got supper done. Nice greens, side pork, cornbread." "Sounds good. And yes, I'm very hungry." "You can wash up in the house or out here at the hosepipe," she said. They went out to the faucet between the shed and the house. She went in to get him a towel. Jack pulled off his wet shirt and ran water from the old leaky rubber hose over his body. It was steaming hot to begin with, until the water heated by the sun all day ran out. Then it poured over him cold as ice. The sun was still showing on the western horizon. It was about 8:30, he guessed. She came out and handed him a big blue towel. She looked him up and down. "You got nice muscles too," she smiled. "You work out?" "I used to, but not in a long time." She was in fine shape as well. She had the body of a dancer or model-tall and willowy. She was a light coffee color with a nose like those seen on statues of Ethiopian princesses. Her eyes were just the least bit slanted, giving her an Oriental flavor. She was about as pretty as any woman he had ever seen. She was elegant, Jack decided. "You're in pretty good shape yourself," Jack said. "I used to dance." "Ballet?" "No, exotic." She laughed. "You know, with the shiny pole and high heels."