wants to know it’s in somebody’s hands and being taken care of.”
“I’ll see Ed tomorrow,” Karen said.
“You sure you want to do that?”
“We’re going to quit playing games, I’m sure of that.”
“Well, as I see it, the one you’d have to talk to’d be Frank,” Roland said. “He’s the only one can call it off. Ed, he’s respecting the wish of his dead buddy. You know how them people are. He can’t change nothing, it’s the code, or some bullshit like that.” Roland was feeling more relaxed, into it now. He liked the way the woman was hanging on his words. “But you go to Ed, tell what you know, then he’s liable to take me off the job and put somebody else on ain’t as sympathetic. You follow me?”
“I’m not sure. Why are you . . . sympathetic?”
“I’m not one of them , as you can see. I work for them, but I don’t think the way they do. It’s like you’re a white woman got mixed up with thesepeople, I come along—I didn’t take none of their oaths and shit—so I can sympathize with your situation and maybe help you out.”
“How?” Karen said. “Not tell if I go out with someone?”
“No, see, I’d still have to do my job. There’s people watching me, too,” Roland said. “But maybe I could ease up your situation some. Come around, talk to you. Maybe, put our minds to it, we could work something out.”
“I’m not sure I follow you,” Karen said, following every word, watching his eyes beneath the cool-cowboy curve of the brim and knowing exactly what he was talking about.
“I mean ease up your situation.” Roland said. “I ‘magine you might be getting a little tense and edgy sitting around here, your husband dead, no men you’re close to. These dinks you went out with evidently didn’t turn you on any.”
She was tense, all right, watching him gradually moving in. She said, cautiously, “How do you know that?”
“It’s my business to know. See, me and you are much closer than you realize. We got a lot in common.”
“We do?” Karen said.
“See, I been thinking,” Roland said. “Why would a deceased husband want to cut off his wife’s . . . activity, let’s say, less he was good andsore on account of she was messing around while he was alive.” Roland gave Karen a friendly wink. “Just wanting to have a little fun. What’s wrong with that? It’s the way we’re made, we got to keep active or we dry up, can’t even spit.”
“That’s quite an assumption,” Karen said. “I mean that I was cheating on my husband.”
“Nobody’s asking you to admit nothing you don’t want to,” Roland said. “It’s between me and you and the bed. I mean the bedpost.”
“Actually Frank had no reason—” Karen began, and stopped. Why was she trying to explain?
“It’s none of my business either way,” Roland said. “You don’t have to confess nothing to me, lady, to be born again. That’s the way I look at this setup, like a new beginning. Here you are stuck here, starting to dry up. Here I am full of notions going to waste, shit, working for them guineas. It’s like, I won’t tell if you won’t. You scratch mine and I’ll scratch yours and we’ll get something cooking here—see, once you give it some thought, realize how your dead husband and his buddy’ve got your knees tied together and there’s nothing you can do about it less I help you. You follow me? I’m giving you your big chance, lady, and it’s the only one you got.”
* * *
“I said to her, ‘Are you all right?’ She didn’t answer me,” Marta said. “She went to the telephone and began to speak to Mr. Grossi.”
“You could hear it?” Jesus Diaz, her brother, asked.
It was dark now. They were in the street in front of the house on Isla Bahía, standing by Jesus’ car, Jesus holding the cassette tape she had given him.
“I could hear it because she was making her words very clear, not in a loud voice but with force, saying, ‘I don’t want
“I’ll see Ed tomorrow,” Karen said.
“You sure you want to do that?”
“We’re going to quit playing games, I’m sure of that.”
“Well, as I see it, the one you’d have to talk to’d be Frank,” Roland said. “He’s the only one can call it off. Ed, he’s respecting the wish of his dead buddy. You know how them people are. He can’t change nothing, it’s the code, or some bullshit like that.” Roland was feeling more relaxed, into it now. He liked the way the woman was hanging on his words. “But you go to Ed, tell what you know, then he’s liable to take me off the job and put somebody else on ain’t as sympathetic. You follow me?”
“I’m not sure. Why are you . . . sympathetic?”
“I’m not one of them , as you can see. I work for them, but I don’t think the way they do. It’s like you’re a white woman got mixed up with thesepeople, I come along—I didn’t take none of their oaths and shit—so I can sympathize with your situation and maybe help you out.”
“How?” Karen said. “Not tell if I go out with someone?”
“No, see, I’d still have to do my job. There’s people watching me, too,” Roland said. “But maybe I could ease up your situation some. Come around, talk to you. Maybe, put our minds to it, we could work something out.”
“I’m not sure I follow you,” Karen said, following every word, watching his eyes beneath the cool-cowboy curve of the brim and knowing exactly what he was talking about.
“I mean ease up your situation.” Roland said. “I ‘magine you might be getting a little tense and edgy sitting around here, your husband dead, no men you’re close to. These dinks you went out with evidently didn’t turn you on any.”
She was tense, all right, watching him gradually moving in. She said, cautiously, “How do you know that?”
“It’s my business to know. See, me and you are much closer than you realize. We got a lot in common.”
“We do?” Karen said.
“See, I been thinking,” Roland said. “Why would a deceased husband want to cut off his wife’s . . . activity, let’s say, less he was good andsore on account of she was messing around while he was alive.” Roland gave Karen a friendly wink. “Just wanting to have a little fun. What’s wrong with that? It’s the way we’re made, we got to keep active or we dry up, can’t even spit.”
“That’s quite an assumption,” Karen said. “I mean that I was cheating on my husband.”
“Nobody’s asking you to admit nothing you don’t want to,” Roland said. “It’s between me and you and the bed. I mean the bedpost.”
“Actually Frank had no reason—” Karen began, and stopped. Why was she trying to explain?
“It’s none of my business either way,” Roland said. “You don’t have to confess nothing to me, lady, to be born again. That’s the way I look at this setup, like a new beginning. Here you are stuck here, starting to dry up. Here I am full of notions going to waste, shit, working for them guineas. It’s like, I won’t tell if you won’t. You scratch mine and I’ll scratch yours and we’ll get something cooking here—see, once you give it some thought, realize how your dead husband and his buddy’ve got your knees tied together and there’s nothing you can do about it less I help you. You follow me? I’m giving you your big chance, lady, and it’s the only one you got.”
* * *
“I said to her, ‘Are you all right?’ She didn’t answer me,” Marta said. “She went to the telephone and began to speak to Mr. Grossi.”
“You could hear it?” Jesus Diaz, her brother, asked.
It was dark now. They were in the street in front of the house on Isla Bahía, standing by Jesus’ car, Jesus holding the cassette tape she had given him.
“I could hear it because she was making her words very clear, not in a loud voice but with force, saying, ‘I don’t want
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