Two tulips in a vase. Reflection of a cactus in a mirror.  A wooden crate with the words Product Of Holland printed on it. A broom stands in the corner. Fan blades turn overhead. They sit there waiting.

Did he say he was coming?

He did.

Are you sure of that?

Yes.

Pete looked at his watch while Sam got up and began to pace the warped floors.

Maybe he meant the next day, Pete said. Or the day after that. You could’ve got it wrong. You’ve been wrong before.

When? When was I wrong?

Can’t say particularly. But I know you were. These things happen. People make mistakes. 

He said he’d be here, Sam told him.

OK.

Hours passed. Pete stared out the window. Sam remained on the couch. Springs tore the cushions. A dog barked outside.

I think he’s here.

Get away from the window. Don’t crowd him. Don’t jump all over him when he walks through the door. A man like him needs space. Needs to think. Plan. Just don’t act like a school girl. OK.

Pete walked over to Sam. Is that what you think of me? A school girl? Is that what you think.

I’m just saying.

You better think again.

Look. There’s a pecking order here. There’s him at the head. Then me as second lieutenant. And you, a soldier , who carries out our orders. Capeche?

No, it is not capeche. Since when we’re you my boss?

Since he said so.

He said so?

Yes.

I see.

Just sit down and wait.

Wait?

That’s all we can do.