how did you guess?… You’re evil… Anyway… we’ll talk tomorrow.
She hangs up and dials again.
Ricky… Everything okay, honey?… Listen, don’t come pick me up… No, nothing… It’s just that Clara had a row with Roberto, she’s really upset… You don’t mind putting it off till tomorrow? … Sure?… Ooh, I wanted so badly to see you… You don’t sound sad enough… I’ll call Clara and tell her I can’t… Sure?… Okay, that’s fine… Let’s talk tomorrow… Great big kiss… Okay. All squared away. Sure was easy for you to string him along. Not really, it’s in his interest, he’s married. Have you ever gone out with anyone who wasn’t? I don’t remember, I was very young. Where are you taking me? Shall we go eat? Let’s. What do you feel like? I’ll take you to a very “in” place. You’ll like it.
With one quick movement, she grabs her leather jacket and her purse, then turns off the light. She motions to Miranda to go out of the door before her. She closes and locks it behind her, takes his arm and walks quickly with him to the corner. They turn up an alleyway and stop in front of a boarded-up house. Under an enormous rubber
tree, Lía turns and plants a kiss on Miranda’s mouth, which he reciprocates by putting his arms around her waist and pressing her against his body. Lía disengages, turns toward the main street and lifts her arm as gracefully as she possibly can. The taxi driver is young but the city has already poisoned his spirit. Lía is sitting next to Miranda, definitely pressing her thigh against his. Her aroma, the physical contact, the sound of Lía’s voice awaken each and every cell in Mole’s body, which is joyous and full of energy, anticipating the delights of this woman’s body that he knows he’s going to inhabit that very night when he’s a bit lightheaded from the wine they’ll have with their meal. The driver is listening to disco music at full volume. Lía gently strums her fingers against Miranda’s hand to the beat of the music. They do not speak. The taxi driver derives some kind of neurotic pleasure from speed and his remarkable skill at swerving in and out between the traffic and the pedestrians. He drives with cunning, passing other cars along Avenida Corrientes, which, at that moment, is relatively deserted. He pulls into the lead and catches the green wave, never letting other drivers sneak into the empty spots at the corners between the cars that are waiting for the lights to change. All the while he is constantly checking to make sure no sleepwalker wanders into the road from one of the side streets, modulating his speed as he approaches each light. In mere minutes they have crossed the city from Colegiales to near the Plaza San Martín, where Lía takes him by the hand and leads him into Morizono, a Japanese restaurant where Mandrake the Magician’s girlfriend prepares delicious rolls of raw fish with rice. Life has finally shaken itself awake. Prison has been left a thousand years behind.
9
Valli sees the sign from the freeway, takes the next exit, drives over the overpass and returns along the frontage road to Two Gold Coins grill. The last customers are still gorging themselves on pieces of mixed grill washed down with cheap wine. Horacio is stirring the coals and spreading them out to create the uniform heat he needs to finish cooking without burning a few large pieces of flank steak. Valli walks through the wood-framed opening hung with plastic that serves as a door. Fatso Horacio has left part of the grill without coals. That’s where he piles up the grilled chorizos he’ll heat up for that night’s dinner. Valli walks up to the bar and sits down on one of the stools.
How’re you doing, Boss? Where’ve you been hiding? I’m stopping by to pay you a visit. Wanna eat? Thanks, but I already did. I’ve got some grilled peppers with garlic that will make you lick your fingers up to your elbows. Another time. I’ve
She hangs up and dials again.
Ricky… Everything okay, honey?… Listen, don’t come pick me up… No, nothing… It’s just that Clara had a row with Roberto, she’s really upset… You don’t mind putting it off till tomorrow? … Sure?… Ooh, I wanted so badly to see you… You don’t sound sad enough… I’ll call Clara and tell her I can’t… Sure?… Okay, that’s fine… Let’s talk tomorrow… Great big kiss… Okay. All squared away. Sure was easy for you to string him along. Not really, it’s in his interest, he’s married. Have you ever gone out with anyone who wasn’t? I don’t remember, I was very young. Where are you taking me? Shall we go eat? Let’s. What do you feel like? I’ll take you to a very “in” place. You’ll like it.
With one quick movement, she grabs her leather jacket and her purse, then turns off the light. She motions to Miranda to go out of the door before her. She closes and locks it behind her, takes his arm and walks quickly with him to the corner. They turn up an alleyway and stop in front of a boarded-up house. Under an enormous rubber
tree, Lía turns and plants a kiss on Miranda’s mouth, which he reciprocates by putting his arms around her waist and pressing her against his body. Lía disengages, turns toward the main street and lifts her arm as gracefully as she possibly can. The taxi driver is young but the city has already poisoned his spirit. Lía is sitting next to Miranda, definitely pressing her thigh against his. Her aroma, the physical contact, the sound of Lía’s voice awaken each and every cell in Mole’s body, which is joyous and full of energy, anticipating the delights of this woman’s body that he knows he’s going to inhabit that very night when he’s a bit lightheaded from the wine they’ll have with their meal. The driver is listening to disco music at full volume. Lía gently strums her fingers against Miranda’s hand to the beat of the music. They do not speak. The taxi driver derives some kind of neurotic pleasure from speed and his remarkable skill at swerving in and out between the traffic and the pedestrians. He drives with cunning, passing other cars along Avenida Corrientes, which, at that moment, is relatively deserted. He pulls into the lead and catches the green wave, never letting other drivers sneak into the empty spots at the corners between the cars that are waiting for the lights to change. All the while he is constantly checking to make sure no sleepwalker wanders into the road from one of the side streets, modulating his speed as he approaches each light. In mere minutes they have crossed the city from Colegiales to near the Plaza San Martín, where Lía takes him by the hand and leads him into Morizono, a Japanese restaurant where Mandrake the Magician’s girlfriend prepares delicious rolls of raw fish with rice. Life has finally shaken itself awake. Prison has been left a thousand years behind.
9
Valli sees the sign from the freeway, takes the next exit, drives over the overpass and returns along the frontage road to Two Gold Coins grill. The last customers are still gorging themselves on pieces of mixed grill washed down with cheap wine. Horacio is stirring the coals and spreading them out to create the uniform heat he needs to finish cooking without burning a few large pieces of flank steak. Valli walks through the wood-framed opening hung with plastic that serves as a door. Fatso Horacio has left part of the grill without coals. That’s where he piles up the grilled chorizos he’ll heat up for that night’s dinner. Valli walks up to the bar and sits down on one of the stools.
How’re you doing, Boss? Where’ve you been hiding? I’m stopping by to pay you a visit. Wanna eat? Thanks, but I already did. I’ve got some grilled peppers with garlic that will make you lick your fingers up to your elbows. Another time. I’ve
Similar Books
