availability of raw space from 450 up to 45,000 square feet.
âMan,â I observed, âyou might think that it looks like the seventies down here, itâs so deserted, but I might think it could be more like the fifties.â
âIâve only seen pictures,â Lavinia said.
âMe, too.â
âVisions of the railroad earth,â Lavinia said.
I turned to look at her. The shadows moved off the dashboard and over her hands on the rim of the steering wheel, sculpting her face. It looked like a flight of pelicans limning a swell. âMy favorite Kerouac piece,â I said.
She shook her head. â Mexico City Blues is better.â
âI donât think so, but youâre not alone; Michael McClure called it the great visionary poem of the twentieth century.â
âYeah, well,â she shrugged, âheâs probably never read The Sorrow of War , by Bao Ninh.â
âIâd prefer to call that novel an elegiac triumph, and to hell with visionary.â
âCurly,â she purred, âyou are the only person Iâve ever met whoâs read as many books as I have.â
âMore,â I corrected her. âMore than you have.â
âAfter you starve to death,â she cooed, âcan I have your library?â
âIâll leave you mine if you leave me yours.â
âCanât do that, Iâm sorry to say. Ivy pawned the whole thing one box at a time.â She softened her tone. âDonât I have anything else you want?â
I shook my head. âThis doesnât look like a real address.â
âWhat would you know about a real address? You mean itâs not a toilet with a bed and a sink?â
âYou slagging my crib?â
âNo, Iâm talking about your shitty apartment. Whenâs the last time a woman was in there?â
I gave this a momentâs thought. âAbout two hours ago,â I replied. âAt least, it used to be a woman.â
âYou know what I mean,â she insisted.
âNot counting my guitar?â
âDonât be pathetic.â
âNone of your business,â I replied pathetically.
âDonât you know any female octopi?â
âI wouldnât spend so much time with her, meaning my guitar, if she werenât the real thing.â
âYou wouldnât spend so much time with her, meaning your guitar, if you had a real thing.â
âThat,â I conceded, âmight be a brush with the truth.â
âAnyhow, where people keep their stolen PA systems isnât necessarily where they sleep.â
âAnd here I thought I was looking for my beloved brother.â
âYou might still be looking for your beloved brother. Nobody is saying our bird is still hereâif he ever was here. Did that landlord look cagey to you?â
âLavinia, think about it. When was the last time you saw somebody look cagey who actually was cagey?â
âUm â¦. The last time I saw a picture of Little Bush on the cover of Time ?â
âThat guyâs not cagey.â
âOn the contrary, my mouse, I think he put one over on everybody, including himself.â
âSpeaking as a small rodent, I agree with you.â
âIf only there were a little id to go along with it.â
âLike when Clinton was President? But hey, now that weâve established our San Francisco political credentials, we didnât come here to talk politics.â
âNo. We came here to talk money.â
âWhatâs the difference?â
Lavinia took a left around the north corner of the block, on Alameda, and parked on the wrong side of the street.
âWill it fit in your car?â
âWhat, seventy-five hundred bucks?â
âI was thinking we might get the merchandise instead. Seventy-five hundred dollars worth of PA system could take up a lot of space.â
âThatâs just what he owes on it,â she
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