Good Night, Irene by Luis Alberto Urrea

Author:Luis Alberto Urrea
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2023-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

American jeeps drove in.

In the leading vehicle, a photographer jumped out before the jeep had even stopped to snap shots of the victors lounging around. “Stars and Stripes!” he shouted. “Stars and Stripes!”

Soon, jeeps and trucks and American tanks swarmed into the outskirts of the town, filling the road. Troops appeared and fanned out into the fields. Pigeons billowed before them in panicked clouds. Machines rolled forward and parted the cadres in the road. They bounced over rubble and soon encircled the Clubmobile. Civilians backed away to watch the show.

An officer stepped up and Garcia saluted him.

“Son, was it you who liberated this town?” the officer said. “There’s a medal in it for you if you were.”

“No, sir,” he replied. He handed the officer Baxter’s dog tag. “It was him.”

The officer studied the tag somberly. Garcia shuffled away. Some kind of colonel stood in his open staff car and declared the siege a major victory. Clean-uniformed desk jockeys with shiny bars and medals pinned to their chests handed small American flags to the tattered citizens as they drove through at a crawl. Ol’ Stars and Stripes got his camera going.

“Oh, hell no,” Dorothy said. “Close the shop, Gator.”

They slammed the shutters and turned the handles to lock them down. Neither of them could abide the thought of eight more hours in the galley spent feeding ground pounders and officers and the boys from the rear. Irene ripped the needle off Piaf’s record—it had played enough times anyway. A pair of American fighter planes passed overhead, and she waved, just in case.

Rusty Penney suddenly appeared and trotted toward the Rapid City. “Y’all okay?”

“Sure,” Dorothy said. “We’re squared away. Shipshape.”

“Somebody shot our truck,” Irene announced.

Dorothy looked him up and down. His uniform was immaculate. “Fought hard, did ya?” she said.

“We were in the rear,” Rusty explained, clearly not appreciating her tone. “Helping coordinate.”

“Coordinate what?”

“How did you ever survive?” Irene said.

Garcia wandered back to the women, a bottle of fruit brandy dangling from his hand. He took a big swig, emptying the bottle, and threw it into some rocks. He smiled at them like a moray eel. “I’m drunk as hell,” he confided.

“Did you drink it all?” Rusty asked, incredulous.

Dorothy finished her smoke. She tossed the butt away, pulled a stick of gum out of her trouser pocket, and unwrapped it and put it in her mouth. She put another stick in Irene’s mouth. Irene chewed with her mouth open like some bobby-soxer. Garcia opened his mouth and Dorothy gave him a stick, too.

“Do I know you?” Rusty asked.

Garcia blew a bubble. Just stared back at him.

“I don’t understand the attitude,” Rusty said. “Is something wrong?”

The three ragamuffins shrugged, almost in unison. Dorothy popped her gum between her molars.

“What could be wrong?” Irene said. She felt the autumn sun on her face. She thought it would comfort her but she disliked it immensely. It was far too bright. “This guy,” she said, tipping her head toward Garcia, “saved us at the last minute.”

“And he can really play piano,” Dorothy said.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.