From Klail City to Korea with Love by Rolando Hinojosa

Author:Rolando Hinojosa [Hinojosa, Rolando]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arte Público Press
Published: 2017-06-15T05:00:00+00:00

9

At the KBC. Poolside.

“Jesus Christ, Sidney! Hap Bayliss! How could you? My God, Sid, he’s an old man. Oh . . . why do I even try? . . . There’s just no talking to you, is there?”

“Do I meddle?”

“Shit!”

“All right, if that’s the way you want it, said the sailor, what Mexican are you fucking now?”

“Goddam you!”

“Let’s see, is Rafe Buenrostro still available? Or how about that cousin of his that Noddy hired; you know, the one with the funny name?”

“Fuck you, Sid.”

“My card’s filled, thank you.”

“You disgusting son-of-a-bitch . . . ”

“Temper . . . temper . . . Sammie Jo . . . ”

“You low-life bastard!”

“Hardly one or the other, Sammie Jo. . . . Sam! Look at me! Come on; hold still, will you? Look at me! Okay? Now, we both knew exactly what we were getting . . . ”

“Oh, hell, don’t you start on that shit again.”

“Well?”

“You don’t understand, Sid . . . I’m angry because . . . because I love you!”

“And I love you, Sammie Jo.”

“Christ! Don’t say it that way.”

“I take it back; I apologize. . . . Sam? I love you. Very much.”

“But why Hap, Sid?”

“Why not?”

“He’s, he’s . . . oh, for God’s sakes, Sid, he’s an old man! And, and, wrinkled . . . and dirty . . . and . . . ”

“He loves me, Sam, and I need him. What else is there?”

“But. You’re. Thirty. Years. Old. He . . . he’s fifty . . . fifty-five; isn’t he, Sid?”

“That’s enough, Sammie Jo. I don’t want you to make any reference to Hap’s age again, hear?”

“I’m sorry, Sid; but . . . Gee-zuz! It’s just that . . . ”

“Is it Rafe, Sam?”

“No! Goddammit!”

“I’m sorry, Sam; and I’m sorry for whatever it was I said. . . . Here, have a drink.”

“No!”

“You know, it’d be easier for you if you took a drink now and then. . . . Well, never mind that. Want to talk about it? You can talk to me, you know, girl to girl.”

“Oh, Sid, please . . . ”

“You have to laugh at it once in a while, Sam. It helps. . . . Smile, Sam! Now: what is it or who is it this time? . . . It is Rafe, isn’t it?”

“Yes . . . it’s him again . . . ”

“Well?”

“I love him, Sidney . . . ”

“You can’t, Babe; you’re in love with me, remember?”

“Help me, Sid; please . . . ”

“Oh, Sam, I’m not . . . ”

“Okayokayokay . . . ”

“There! Look at you: you’re beginning to look better already.”

“Here, go on . . . light this for me. . . . Thanks . . . Thanks. . . . Well, anyway . . . Rafe . . . Rafe’s a shit!”

“I hardly know the boy.”

“Be serious, Sid.”

“I am.”

“Anyway, he and I are good together. Really good, but he’s still a shit.”

“And?”

“And? It’s important that I drop him! Shit! OH! I don’t know what to do!”

“I do.

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