Denver continues his narration. Ron and Deborah interfere with what was otherwise a controlled life. Despite Denver telling her off every week, “[Deborah]’d smile at me real big and ask my name and how I was doin—you know: attackin me for not particular reason.” To Denver, Deborah seems the only person he’s met in a long time who isn’t scared of him. This bothers him, since keeping people afraid of him is how he survives. Denver starts arriving early and eating quickly to try to avoid Ron and Deborah, but keeps observing them nonetheless.
It is telling that Denver interprets Deborah’s kindness as an “attack.” This indicates that Denver’s meanness and the distance he keeps from people has become his defense, his way of protecting himself from the world. Thus, Deborah’s attempt to penetrate that meanness seems a direct affront.