Now Showing by Ron Elliott

night I met Robin, she was the only one at their table who wasn’t hitting on me. She was quiet and a bit glum. She’d broken up with someone. I forget who. I forget why. I believe her friends werehelping her cleanse herself of him and she had decided it was all men who were evil and she drank a lot of wine, which does not go with too many tacos, if I may say. And she argued with her friends. Loud and raucous is Gringos’ kind of crowd, but they became loud and angry, Robin against the world.
    They left late, and they left Robin. I found her in the back parking lot, puking up her guts near the Valiant. Small world if you look backwards. I couldn’t get her to make sense. She was nearly unconscious. I opened her purse and found her mobile. I didn’t find many numbers in it. I was going to try a few. Get one of her friends to come and get her. But I found her student card and an address. It was one of those university residential colleges on Stirling Highway near the river. There was a key with a room number. Her blouse was covered in vomit and I took it off and I put my jacket on her and buttoned it up, then I put her in the back of my car, with a windcheater under her head in case she was going to puke again. I put her over my shoulder when I got there and carried her up a flight of stairs. Two guys were in a small kitchen. ‘Ah, you got her. Good one, dude.’ The other one said, ‘Can we have a go when you’re finished?’
    The room was small, like in the nurses’ quarters but with a desk and books and a single bed. I laid her down. That’s when I saw her movie posters. One was Breathless and the other was To Kill a Mockingbird. Gregory Peck. ‘Ah, you like old movies,’ I said.
    There were three rag dolls on her windowsill and a Harry Potter wand. A big casserole dish was up on her bookshelf. The rest was books and papers and quite a few piles of clothes on the floor.
    I took off her shoes. She had good legs and a beautiful face. I spread her top blanket over her and put her purse on the desk and her key next to that. I moved a litter bin to the floor next to her face. I clicked the lock in the door when I left, which I think was a good thing, because the arseholes were lurking. ‘That was quick, man,’ said one. ‘Did you get any pictures?’
    It was suddenly cold outside and when I got back to the car and smelled the bad smell and saw her blouse, I realised I’d lost a good coat. And that would have been it. Done, dusted and no Robin and Zac to break my heart.
    Except that Robin came to Gringos the next night. I saw her come in with my coat.
    â€˜Hey, you brought it back.’
    â€˜So it is yours.’
    I put a plate of refried beans down on the table next to me and reached for it.
    â€˜You admit it.’ Her eyes were flashing.
    â€˜Sure. Do you want your top?’
    â€˜You fucking bastard,’ she yelled. It was early, but the people in the restaurant went quiet. ‘Do you see any reason why I shouldn’t call the police on you, you fucking sleazebag.’
    â€˜Huh?’
    â€˜Hey, want to take it outside?’ said Mike, the manager coming from the front.
    â€˜Is that how you get your kicks, is it?’
    â€˜I didn’t get any kicks.’ I included the customers. ‘Honest. I ... I washed your blouse.’
    â€˜Exactly, and what are you doing with it and how did you get it off without my consent and what, arsehole, were you doing in my room for so long and why shouldn’t I call the police?’
    â€˜I wasn’t in there very long,’ I said.
    â€˜In where!’
    â€˜No, your room. You passed out. I took you home. Left straight away.’
    â€˜You took my blouse off.’
    â€˜It was covered in puke. There was cheese. Mince. Pickles. Red wine.’
    â€˜Tequila,’ she said, quiet, thinking fast.
    â€˜No carrots. That I could see. Contrary to folklore.’
    â€˜Some guys