supper at the best table: the bodies that can't take the table — "Little 14-C Bernard Makulic, two tables…"
Little 14-C Bernard Makulic, two tables over from the milk dispenser and constitutionally delicate and not long for E.T.A., throws up in a silky tan cataract onto the floor by his chair
Context
Refueling assumes a body that works, and around the edges of the best table sit the ones that don't. Axford's brain lesion means "all food everywhere tastes horrible to him" — it "tastes the way vomit smells" — so he fuels holding his nose, joyless, like "somebody dispensing fuel into his car." The machine that can't process its fuel still has to run. And the machine that's too "constitutionally delicate" gets culled: Makulic, "not long for E.T.A.," throws up "in a silky tan cataract" mid-supper, chairs scooting away in a star pattern. The washout is written on the body first — the delicate ones vomit, and vomiting here is a verdict.