"Valley Walls: A Memoir of Climbing ..." by Glen Denny

The food arrived and the talking stopped. The bun of the #24 was
warmly toasted. Inside, the fried wiener, onion, tomato, lettuce,
and thousand island dressing made a satisfying combination. The
cold weather had given me an appetite.

Beck poured some hot water into his cup from the teapot. He put some
ketchup into the cup and stirred it with a spoon, adding salt and
pepper and other condiments.

"Roper, are you going to eat your crackers?" he asked. Roper was
chewing and shook his head no. Beck crumbled the crackers into his
soup and drank it quickly, before the waitress came by again. Then
he repeated the performance with my crackers.

"Ask her for more crackers, Roper."

"Beck, are you that poor? Didn't you work during the winter?"

"Yes, but it's got to last a long time."

Eric was engaged in a long-term struggle with the Curry Company to
see how long he could stay in the Valley on how little money. Each
time he had to part with a coin, it was a small defeat. Any day
that saw the expenditure of a whole dollar was a disaster, either
a failure of strategic planning and tactical daring, or a breakdown
in discipline--a confession of weakness.

"You're too thin, Beck," Roper said. "You won't be strong enough
for the big climbs."

"I'll be all right. It isn't really necessary to eat a lot." He
paused, eying Roper's plate again. "Are you going to eat your pickle?"

Roper and I had coffee. Beck wiped his cup clean with a napkin,
removing the evidence, and asked for a second pot of hot water. When
it arrived, he pulled a used teabag out of his pocket and slipped it
into the pot.