"Good for you," he said, smiling.
Ollie shook his head.
The grocer frowned, then replaced the apple with an orange. "Easier on teeth," he said.
"Thank you," said Ollie, smiling. "You make me feel lucky. I'm answering a want ad—maybe I'll get the job."
The grocer smiled vaguely. "I hope." Then his face livened. "What job? In paper?"
"Yes." There could be no other, for a man his age.
"It says 'dangerous,'" said the grocer. "I think maybe they cut you up, find out how you live so long. Or make you sick to try new cure.
"You find better job—or Home. That one bad." There was a slight pause.
"Look. I close soon. You sweep store, I give you dollar."
"You're a good guy," said Ollie. "But I've got three dollars now." He showed them proudly. "You save yours for somebody who doesn't have a job to try for."