"You know melons, uh?”
“Melons, onions, lettuce, anything you got.”
“You want to work today?”
The girl seemed to think about it and then shrugged and said, “Yeah, well, since we forgot our golf clubs we might as well, uh?”
“After you go to the bathroom.” Majestyk’s gaze, with the soft hint of a smile, held on her for another moment.
“First things first,” the girl said.
“Listen, I don’t say they can’t use them,” the attendant said now. “You think I own this place? I work here.”
“He says he works here,” Majestyk said.
The girl nodded. “We believe it.”
“And he says since the toilets are broken you can use something else.” Majestyk’s gaze moved away, past the attendant and the shelves of lube oil and the cash register and the coffee and candy machines, taking in the office.
“What’re you doing?” The attendant was frowning, staring at him. “Listen, they can’t use something else. They got to get out of here.”
Majestyk’s gaze stopped, held for a moment before coming back to the attendant. “He says use the wastebasket if you want,” and motioned to the migrants with his hands. “Come on. All of you, come on in.”
As two of the migrants came in hesitantly behind the girl, grinning, enjoying it, and the other two moved in closer behind her, the attendant said, “Jesus Christ, you’re crazy! I’m going to call the police, that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Try and hold on to yourself,” Majestyk said to him quietly. “You don’t own this place. You don’t have to pay for broken windows or anything. What do you care?”
