Our House on Hueco by Carlos Flores

Author:Carlos Flores [Carlos Flores]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carlos Flores
Published: 2022-03-22T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12 The Bomb

Sword in hand, I lay on my belly under the porch late one afternoon. Peering through the holes between the bricks, I could see part of Mr. Jones’s porch and some of his front lawn. The English had taken me prisoner, but I had escaped from their man-of-war, the tree in the backyard next to La Sorda’s. They’d be here any minute, flashing their swords and challenging me to a fight in the open. But if they found me and came after me under here, I could kill them all off, one at a time, poking them in the ribs as they crawled through the hole. Or they might walk past me, and then I could sneak out and attack them from the rear. Or I might—.

The screen door on the porch above me opened, and the Sergeant and the Missus came out and sat on the swing. Good, that meant the English might not look for me under the porch; the English captain didn’t want anybody to find out about the hiding place.

“I swear,” growled the Sergeant, “I’ve never seen such lazy, ignorant people.”

Chains squeaked. “Now, now, Sarge,” said the Missus. “People from your part of the country aren’t much better, but you never say anything about them.”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “I work with these people every day. They can’t do anything right. Can’t get to work on time, can’t talk American, can’t follow instructions, steal things, and then say they got lost, can’t be trusted. How do you expect to run a military base with people like these?”

I didn’t know what they were talking about and didn’t care. All I knew was that the English hadn’t come yet. That meant I was going to have to look for them, sneak up on them, and catch them by surprise. But how long were the Sergeant and the Missus going to be up there blabbing? If it was much longer, I’d have to crawl out and sneak around the side of the house without their noticing. I rested my chin on my arm and looked through a hole between the bricks. The air was yucky.

“And then these people,” he said. “I swear.”

The chains moaned. “Lower your voice. Someone might hear you.”

“How the hell are they going to hear me when they don’t understand a word of English?”

“You never know.”

He lowered his voice but not much. “I swear I’ve never seen kids raise such a racket when they play, shooting guns, fighting with swords, running around. Never seen kids have to go to the bathroom so much either. ‘Sir, can we use your bathroom? Sir, my mother wants to know if she can use the bathroom.’”

“Patience,” said the Missus. “They’ve worked very hard on the apartment. It won’t be long before they have their own bathroom in back.”

A drop of sweat ran across my face, and I could barely breathe. Hot, worse than an oven.

“I like the father,” said the Sergeant. “He’s like us. Can’t speak English worth a shit, but he doesn’t have to.

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