Feld opened his door only as far as the chain allowed. Behind his shoulder I could see the two chairs Bell's men used at the entrance. They were empty now. If I could get them out before the morning traffic thickened, Esther might have something worth inspecting. “I haven't come for work,” I said. Feld looked down at my empty hands. He unhooked the chain, but remained in the opening until I asked permission to move the chairs.
“They're chairs, Sam.” “Then you won't miss them here.” He rubbed his chin with the back of one finger. From upstairs came the uneven knock of somebody testing a machine, then silence. Feld said I could put them in the rear storeroom. I lifted the first chair, carrying it high to clear a basket beside the jamb. Its legs had worn pale patches into the floor. The second was heavier, with a cracked arm polished smooth by idle hands.
I carried both through the shop. Feld followed me, objecting whenever a leg came near a table. At the storeroom I set them against the wall without ceremony. The cleared entrance looked wider than I remembered. A woman bringing a small parcel paused, looked from Feld to me, and went upstairs. For a minute I believed the hardest part had been lifting furniture. Then the street door banged, and the two men from Bell's room entered together.
They did not ask where the chairs had gone. One walked past me toward the back while the other stayed beside Feld. I followed the first man, but he already had a chair in his hands. “Put it down,” I said. “Gladly.” He carried it to the entrance and sat. His companion fetched the other. Feld stepped around them to catch the parcel woman as she came down, but she slipped through without stopping to answer him.
I waited until the seated man leaned forward, then took hold of the empty chair beside him. Its owner caught the back. For several seconds we stood pulling on the same piece of wood. I could feel the old pleasure of making another man yield begin in my shoulders. I let the legs settle. “Get up,” I told the seated one. He smiled. Feld said my name sharply, as though only one of us had brought trouble there.
A customer carrying a folded sample stopped outside. He saw the chair across half the opening, shifted his parcel, and continued down the street. Feld hurried after him, calling about delivery, but a passing wagon swallowed his voice. While both men watched the pursuit, I lifted the unoccupied chair and carried it back again. The man who had held it followed me. This time he seized my sleeve rather than the wood, bunching the cloth hard against my elbow.
“You looking for another fall?” he asked. I set the chair down before he could make me drop it. My knee had stiffened, and a fight in that narrow passage would end with me on the floor. I peeled his fingers from my sleeve one at a time. He drew back his fist. I stepped aside. Not backward toward the entrance, where I could pretend I was defending it. Sideways, leaving a clear space between him and Feld.
The proprietor had returned without his customer. I said, “It's your shop. Tell him whether he's staying.” Feld's lips moved before any words came. The man looked at him almost with curiosity. I had given Feld no protection except a question asked where everybody could hear. From upstairs the machine stopped again. Feld gripped the stair rail. “Take your friend and go,” he said. The man waited. Feld swallowed. “You aren't sitting at my door anymore.”
They made us wait while they collected their hats. One dragged the remaining chair across the boards, leaving it sideways in the passage. I kept my hands loose. After they went, Feld seized the chair himself and carried it so violently toward the storeroom that an arm struck the wall. Then he told me to stand outside. I obeyed. For the next hour people approached, hesitated, and went elsewhere. Two workers crossed the street rather than pass me.
At noon Feld lowered the shade and announced that no work would be taken in that day. I moved away from the doorway so the last woman upstairs could leave without passing close to me. She carried her parcel against her chest and never looked back. Feld stood behind the glass, keys hanging from one hand. He had excluded the crew, and I had proved nothing about who would return. The unguarded door opened onto an empty floor.