The Son of Good Fortune by Lysley Tenorio

Author:Lysley Tenorio
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2020-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

15

Excel wakes and thinks of money.

It’s been nine days since his return. He arrived in Colma with around $270 and now has $120 from Roxy, and with the fifty-two hours he’s worked at The Pie so far (if Gunter will be a halfway decent human being, he’ll pay Excel eleven dollars an hour, same as before), that should put him, after payday, at around $962. If he can maintain this rate, in ten or eleven (maybe fifteen weeks at most, given expenses?), he’ll have $10,000, plus enough for a Greyhound ticket back to Hello City, with enough left over, he hopes, to buy snacks for the long ride south.

He tells himself: The future is closer today than yesterday.

He gets out of bed, showers, and changes. He goes to the living room and Maxima rises, still on the couch. “I fell asleep,” she says.

“You were there when I got in last night,” he says. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

She rubs her eyes and clears her throat, stands up, and walks groggily to The Bod. She scrunches her face like she’s in pain.

“Everything okay?” Excel asks.

“My back.” She digs her fists into her hips, bends to the side. “How did you sleep on that couch, all those years?”

“Guess I got used to it.”

Breathing slowly, she reaches for the ceiling then arches backward, like she’s about to do a backflip kick from one of her movies. Her ponytail, straggly and loose, sways back and forth, grazes the rug. “You should’ve had a real bed. I should’ve gotten you one.” She straightens up. “I’m sorry.”

“It was fine.” More comfortable, he realizes, than the bed he sleeps in now. “I slept fine.”

She steps back and takes firm hold of The Bod’s shoulders, but instead of kneeing him in the gut she remains perfectly still, like she needs him to keep her balance. “I’m off to work,” he says. He bends down to tie his shoes, and when he looks up, Maxima is still the same, motionless, just staring at The Bod’s blank blue face. “I’m leaving,” he says, and she barely nods.

Excel walks out, shuts the door behind him. But he doesn’t leave, not until he hears it again, finally: Maxima strikes to start the day.

ONCE OUTSIDE THE LA VILLA AURELIA GATE, HE CALLS SAB. JUST one ring and she picks up, a gesture (intended or not) that makes Excel the happiest since he’s been back, but he warns himself: Don’t read into it.

“Hey,” he says, “did I wake you?”

“Can’t wake me if I haven’t slept.”

“Is something wrong?” His first thought is morning sickness, though he doesn’t exactly know what morning sickness is. “Should you go to a doctor?”

“Don’t worry. It’s just really hot. One hundred and two degrees yesterday. I was awake the whole night.”

“You need to keep cool. For your health.” And for the baby, he wants to say, but holds back.

“I’m at Lucia’s, blasting the AC. So instead of sweating to death, now I’m freezing.”

Fancy as it is, Lucia’s Airstream is

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