The Dog Fighter by Marc Bojanowski

Author:Marc Bojanowski
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-12-27T16:00:00+00:00

On the night of my third fight my hand was not healed completely but the money I had was not much. Jorge offered to wait some before I paid him but my pride would not allow this.

You can return to work on the hotel. He said.

I would not be able to make a fist around the hemp ropes of the crane I told him. And if I returned to construct the hotel I would not be able to face the poet. I did not want to admit how anxious I was to encounter her. I would have fought dogs to be near to her even if I had no hands.

From the small room on the rooftop I heard squealing children chasing one another down the narrow street below the storehouse. The light around the door darkened slowly with the moon full but clouds gathered some and the men earlier in the day had spoken of rain. Ramón and Vargas sat drinking coffee to sober themselves. They had been drinking until late in the night before.

We went with Cantana and the other businessmen to church. Ramón said. You should have been there. One of the mistresses punched Vargas in the mouth.

It was nothing. Vargas smiled. One of the front teeth missing from his mouth.

What happened? I asked. Only Ramón and I were stretching before the fight. Vargas sat in a new wood chair with a small bruise at the corner of his mouth.

I asked her to dance. Vargas said. His voice a bit sad even maybe. I asked if she would like to dance with me. We had been making eyes at each other during the night.

She was looking over your shoulder at me. Ramón smiled at the fugitive.

Then she hit you? I asked Vargas.

No no. She said. You say another word to me and I will hit you in the face. So I said. Another word.

It was a good punch also. Ramón gestured.

She was standing too close. Vargas argued.

Close enough to knock out your tooth.

That one was loose before she hit me.

I do not understand. I said to them both.

Neither do I. Said Vargas. Rubbing the bruise. His tongue inspecting the dark space between his teeth. His brow wrinkled.

Ramón and Vargas went on about the night before. Discussing which mistresses lips were the fullest and most beautiful. Who had the roundest eyes. Ramón made jokes about hitting the fugitive in the head with the leg of the chair again when Vargas mentioned an ugly mistress Ramón had danced with.

Cantana. I asked carefully. Did he dance?

No. He sat smoking. Vargas said. Watching us all. Smiling. You wonder if he even likes the women sometimes.

Ask him? Ramón joked. But before you do be sure to leave behind some nice words about yourself so I will have something to say at your funeral.

Later Ramón told me that after they left the cantina Vargas was still upset about losing his tooth to a woman. When they were leaving the abandoned church the sun had barely risen.

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