"Burke... Burke!" The old lady screeched down the back stairs. As usual, she stood tottering on the top landing of the three-flat, one fist mashed against her hip and the other clutched tight to the railing. She glared down the crack between the banisters. She knew her son-in-law, on the ground floor, could hear her.

"Burke, I need food! And don't go bringin' me no more of them green beans and canned chicken!

"I got enough of that blamed canned chicken to stuff a horse," she muttered. Mrs. Edmonds hobbled back inside and slammed the door. She made her way through the kitchen and into the pantry adjoining it.

"Meanness. Blamed meanness. That's all it is." She scowled grimly at the pantry shelves. All three were stocked top to bottom. In fact the whole pantry was overflowing -- with cans of green beans and canned chicken.

She'd had enough of Burke's beans and chicken. She grabbed the nearest can and made a feeble toss toward the garbage.

"Ever since Edgar died, that devil has treated me like this. He wouldn't have gotten away with it while Edgar was alive. No sir! And Susan..." she moaned. "Bless her soul. We should have kicked that fool Burke out when Susan died. But Edgar was too soft-hearted for that. Look where his kindness has gotten me!"

Mrs. Edmonds tugged the garbage pail closer to the shelves.

"Burke!" she screeched again.

"When I ask for something different that devil brings me a different brand of green beans! But he'll pay for it. Someday he'll pay..." With that, she jabbed her arm across the shelf and swept it clean. The cans bounced off the counter and onto the floor. It was only sheer luck that none of the falling cans crushed Mrs. Edmonds' toes.

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