An Evening with Mr. Hopper

1. The Usual Spot on Greenwich Ave 

Greenwich village. 

God, what a place 

things used to be 

a fella could get drunk off the air here 

We used to be artists 

back before the war 

now we're sad men 

who wear suits 

One thing that never changed 

about old Greenwich 

is that little diner 

on Greenwich & 12th 

The old fella who owned it 

came from Philly 

long ago it was called 

Duchamp's 

But we neva called it that 

the old fella changed out 

the sign in '22 

to Phillies 

Open 24/7! 

and five-cent cigars! 

and hot coffee!

God, what a place 

We used to go there 

breakfast 

lunch 

& dinner 

We would stagger out 

of our apartments 

at two in the morning 

on a wednesday night 

And the old fella's son 

would take us all in 

barely fifteen and he 

cooked for us and poured cups of joe 

2. The Old Fella's Son 

The old fella's son 

was born & raised in Greenwich neva knew any other life 

than in Manhattan 

But when he said water 

he said 'wooder' 

and he was always 

forgetting the names of those jawns 

The old fella's son 

was born with one leg 

shorter than the other 

so he neva left for Europe 

The old fella's son was 

waiting for us when we got back

still standing behind that counter pouring coffee and frying eggs 

3. Clark 

Clark came to the city 

in '39 

looking to study 

at NYU 

He couldn't pay tuition 

and he couldn't get back home so he stayed in Greenwich and made beautiful things 

Clark became my life-long friend because we was both just trying to get by and 

make beautiful things 

Then the war hit and 

we was all stuffed into 

uniforms and sent off 

to shoot Nazis 

And we musta shot them pretty damn good 

considering Clark and I 

are sitting in Phillies again 

We haven't made any beautiful things in a hell of a long time but that's okay 

we're still good old pals 

4. Brenda 

Brenda ain't never fought no war on account of the fact she's a woman but she did make beautiful things with me and Clark and all of us 

And she ate at Phillies a lot too on account of the fact her mama died of tuberculosis and she never learned nothing of cooking and cleaning 

But Brenda made these wonderful paintings that jumped outta the canvas at you and made you feel 

beautiful things 

She painted a steam train once with oils on a huge canvas 

I remember being over her place and just sitting on the floor 

I musta been staring at the steam train for six hours 

she painted every beautiful part of that iron beast 

And then took it to an auction 

and she sold away that beautiful thing and it made her 

a month's rent 

5. Eddie 

I came from further up on the Hudson I came from money but I ain't never

taken a cent or a dime from nobody 

in my family on account of my pride 

I blew into town in the spring of '38 

because I had ran outta other places 

to go and create beautiful things 

I had been painting portraits of folks 

Phillies became my favorite spot 

I saw the old fella and the old fella's son and Clark and Brenda 

and I really liked Brenda 

Brenda was a beautiful thing 

more beautiful than a painting of a steam train or of the Blue Ridge Mountains 

or anything any of us ever painted before the war 

6. Brenda & Eddie 

I told Brenda I wanted her to 

be mine in the spring of '40 

and she musta thought I was a real pisser for that one because she went and kissed me 

And it was one of them kisses that ends a movie one where she'd wrap her arms around your neck and hang offa you like a coat on a hanger that was probably when I shoulda gave up on her 

Brenda was a beautiful thing and for a while we lived nice and pretty making beautiful things and smoking five-cent cigars and 

eating at Phillies in the early morning But I had to go off and shoot Nazis two years later

and that fire with Brenda died off 

and she said goodbye and I said I'd write 

and she said don't bother and we split 

7. Night Hawks 

Clark and I got back from shooting Nazis 

in '45 because I think 

they went and dropped a fairly big bomb 

on the last Nazis in August or so I was told 

We had split outta Greenwich after that 

I moved uptown and worked downtown 

Clark moved to Queens and worked uptown Brenda stayed in Greenwich making beautiful things 

Clark and I wore suits on account 

of the fact we were no longer artists 

we were rats racing other rats to do rat things in these tall buildings where rats worked 

One night in '48 I was walking around because I could not for the life of me catch a wink of sleep 

because I kept thinking of dead Nazis and dead Americans and not very beautiful things 

My feet took me to Greenwich Village 

without me even realizing 

they knew the way after all I had been through and done and went through 

Phillies was there, golden glow at three in 

the morning on that corner 

still had five-cent cigars and hot coffee 

and the old fella's son still stood behind the counter

I walked right in and he said "hey" and I said "hey" and ordered a burger and pulled out a cigarette then, like some kind of magic had happened in that diner Clark walked right on in 

For a second we didn't say nothing to 

each other on account of the fact we didn't realize at first but then he looked up and I looked up and we started chatting about work and the old days 

Then Brenda walked in 

and for a moment I hung my head 

but she recognized us all the same 

she sat right down next to me 

She put her arm around my waist 

and gave me a kiss on the cheek 

it wasn't nothing like that 

movie star kiss she gave me 

And we all sat there in Phillies for a minute and the old fella's son wanted to say something I could see it in his eyes 

he wanted to say "Just like old times!" 

But we all knew it was just like old times 

so we didn't say nothing like that 

we sat there quietly 

in the usual spot 

Like nothing had never changed 

like we hadn't loved 

like we hadn't lost 

like we was still artists 

And then, after some time I said 

"Let us create a beautiful thing."

and Clark and Brenda and even the old fella's son all talked about that 

The next day we went to Brenda's place the same old place she lived in before the war and she had a canvas and paints 

and we created a beautiful thing 

We painted three old friends 

sitting in a diner with the old fella's son hawks 

in the dead of night

About the Author

Owen Skidds is a simple man who loves writing, kayaking, winter sports, and a healthy amount of idolized melancholic isolation. He occasionally writes poetry, but mostly dabbles in speculative fiction and fantasy writing. The biggest influences on his writing career are Robert A. Heinlein, Kurt Vonnegut, and Robert Kurvitz.