kiddo. See ya in a few hours.”
I slide the stool back. “It’s fine, I can wait.”
Katia grabs my wrist. “No, you cannot.” She stands up on the stool, props her elbows on the counter, and leans over, getting nose to nose with Francisco. “Go fire it back up and make him a plate or I’ll make sure you play point man on the next supply run.”
Francisco studies Katia for a moment, trying to decide if she’d be willing to make good on such a threat. He pulls at his moustache, hard. It’s almost painful to watch. Finally, he throws his hands up and stomps back towards the kitchen, muttering in Spanish.
“ Jódete , just make the fucking plate,” Katia yells, situating herself back on the barstool.
“You didn’t ask what I wanted.”
“We all eat the same shit.”
“I’m just joking.” I twirl my hat from my head and set it on the counter, pushing my hair back from my eyes and scratching at my scalp. “He’s going to spit in my food.”
“He spits in everyone’s food.” She turns sideways, considering me. “I like your hair. You should lose the hat.”
“My hair looks awful right now. I just woke up. I’ve got hat hair for days, I’m sure.”
She shakes her head. “Nah, doesn’t look bad at all. You’ve got natural waves, good body. Plus, I like blonds.”
I choke a little and nod like an idiot. “Cool, that’s...cool.” I drum the counter and bob my head, acting as if I’m jiving to the tune of some inaudible beat rather than looking for an outlet for the nervous adrenaline pulsing through my veins.
“So, why’d you want to know how old I am yesterday?”
I shrug. “Turnabout is fair play, and all that jazz. I told you my age, so, why not?”
“Uh huh.”
“What?”
“Turnabout is fair play, I’d forgotten that one. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Well, it is.”
“ You know you’re not supposed to ask a girl her age, I thought you were a gentleman?”
“ I don’t think you’re quite old enough for that to apply, yet.”
She laughs. “Touché.” She twirls back and forth on the stool, doing half revolutions, stopping herself with her hands before her knees crash into mine. “I’m seventeen. I turned seventeen two months ago.”
I’m caught off guard. “Oh, okay. Never would have guessed.”
“Older, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“You would have guessed I’m older. It’s okay, I’ve always looked older. Got ten Ruiz in a couple of good dust ups over it.”
“ Yeah, Ruiz, he seems wound pretty tight.”
She shrugs. “He’s passionate, no doubt. I remember, I was f ifteen, and we were leaving a movie and this dude, must have been in his thirties, straight up grabbed my ass. Ruiz hit him so hard I thought the guy’s head was going to pop off his shoulders. He’s always been that way; acting first and thinking second.”
“You should have called the cops, him grabbing your ass and everything.”
She shakes her head. “Nah, didn’t want to risk Ruiz going to jail too for exploding on the guy. Besides, sometimes a punch in the face trumps handcuffs.”
“You’ve got a point there, ” I say, thinking of the General.
“All that stuff you saw in the truck, him blowing his fuse, well, that’s just Ruiz. But he’s got a heart for people, for helping, this whole thing, this community, it’s his baby. He’s just protective, you know?”
“My sister is the same way. I think we all are when it comes to family, especially now, when they’re all we’ve got left.”
“Oh, your sister, she’s crazy about you. I can tell.”
A paper plate is plopped down in front of me.
“Thank you, Francisco,” Katia croons. The clatter of pots and pans and a few muffled bouts of profanity is the only response she receives.
Roasted potatoes. An egg. Two pancakes.
No obvious signs of saliva.
“Not half bad for post-apocalyptic grub, right?”
“I’m not complaining.” I start cutting away with the edge of a plastic fork.
“We’ve
I slide the stool back. “It’s fine, I can wait.”
Katia grabs my wrist. “No, you cannot.” She stands up on the stool, props her elbows on the counter, and leans over, getting nose to nose with Francisco. “Go fire it back up and make him a plate or I’ll make sure you play point man on the next supply run.”
Francisco studies Katia for a moment, trying to decide if she’d be willing to make good on such a threat. He pulls at his moustache, hard. It’s almost painful to watch. Finally, he throws his hands up and stomps back towards the kitchen, muttering in Spanish.
“ Jódete , just make the fucking plate,” Katia yells, situating herself back on the barstool.
“You didn’t ask what I wanted.”
“We all eat the same shit.”
“I’m just joking.” I twirl my hat from my head and set it on the counter, pushing my hair back from my eyes and scratching at my scalp. “He’s going to spit in my food.”
“He spits in everyone’s food.” She turns sideways, considering me. “I like your hair. You should lose the hat.”
“My hair looks awful right now. I just woke up. I’ve got hat hair for days, I’m sure.”
She shakes her head. “Nah, doesn’t look bad at all. You’ve got natural waves, good body. Plus, I like blonds.”
I choke a little and nod like an idiot. “Cool, that’s...cool.” I drum the counter and bob my head, acting as if I’m jiving to the tune of some inaudible beat rather than looking for an outlet for the nervous adrenaline pulsing through my veins.
“So, why’d you want to know how old I am yesterday?”
I shrug. “Turnabout is fair play, and all that jazz. I told you my age, so, why not?”
“Uh huh.”
“What?”
“Turnabout is fair play, I’d forgotten that one. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Well, it is.”
“ You know you’re not supposed to ask a girl her age, I thought you were a gentleman?”
“ I don’t think you’re quite old enough for that to apply, yet.”
She laughs. “Touché.” She twirls back and forth on the stool, doing half revolutions, stopping herself with her hands before her knees crash into mine. “I’m seventeen. I turned seventeen two months ago.”
I’m caught off guard. “Oh, okay. Never would have guessed.”
“Older, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“You would have guessed I’m older. It’s okay, I’ve always looked older. Got ten Ruiz in a couple of good dust ups over it.”
“ Yeah, Ruiz, he seems wound pretty tight.”
She shrugs. “He’s passionate, no doubt. I remember, I was f ifteen, and we were leaving a movie and this dude, must have been in his thirties, straight up grabbed my ass. Ruiz hit him so hard I thought the guy’s head was going to pop off his shoulders. He’s always been that way; acting first and thinking second.”
“You should have called the cops, him grabbing your ass and everything.”
She shakes her head. “Nah, didn’t want to risk Ruiz going to jail too for exploding on the guy. Besides, sometimes a punch in the face trumps handcuffs.”
“You’ve got a point there, ” I say, thinking of the General.
“All that stuff you saw in the truck, him blowing his fuse, well, that’s just Ruiz. But he’s got a heart for people, for helping, this whole thing, this community, it’s his baby. He’s just protective, you know?”
“My sister is the same way. I think we all are when it comes to family, especially now, when they’re all we’ve got left.”
“Oh, your sister, she’s crazy about you. I can tell.”
A paper plate is plopped down in front of me.
“Thank you, Francisco,” Katia croons. The clatter of pots and pans and a few muffled bouts of profanity is the only response she receives.
Roasted potatoes. An egg. Two pancakes.
No obvious signs of saliva.
“Not half bad for post-apocalyptic grub, right?”
“I’m not complaining.” I start cutting away with the edge of a plastic fork.
“We’ve
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