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.Looking at him some scary shit.Let them gooks and white boys fight the Commies.If they come over here, I’ll get my daddy’s piece and ice a few.You should go to Canada, Rick.Shit, you could walk there from here.”“I would fight,” César said.“Go to war for me country.”“This ain’t none of your goddamn country,” Rick said.“You crazy if you think this your country.White people care less about ya’ll than they do about us.”“This is me country, but I would no fight for white people.I would fight for democracy,” César said.“Fuck democracy,” Rick said.“I’m going in Uncle Sam’s army ’cause I ain’t got nowhere else to go.And what’s a nigger going to do in Canada?”“Same thing a nigger do here,” Isaac said.“Go on up there and get a job in a plant.They got steel plants up there too.”“We live across the street from a steel plant here.That don’t mean I got a job,” Rick said.“I been laid off almost a year.I’m telling you, Canada for white boys.You got to have money, know somebody, blend in.I ain’t got no money, don’t know nobody, and where a nigger going to hide in Canada?”The one thing Rick had to look forward to was Gloria.He kept hoping she would stop and wink at him again, and one day she did stop.She called to him from the kitchen.“Ricky,” she said.“Ven acá.”Rick did not move.“¡Mira! Come here.Ven acá.”The beer lifted him from the sofa and carried him into the kitchen.“Dance with me,” Gloria said, and she grabbed his two hands, big and useless, and held them in hers.He danced an awkward salsa with her, to a song playing on the radio.To him the beat was foreign.“Tú bailas bien,” Gloria said, and Rick smiled.In the sallowness of the kitchen, the pace of his life changed.As Gloria began to cha-cha, Rick could not keep up with her, and she let go of his hands.Her feet moved faster.One, two, one two three.One two one two three.Onetwoonetwothree.Onetwoonetwothree-onetwoonetwothree.Gloria spun around the chairs as if they were couples on a dance floor, and when she flashed around the table Rick saw her, just for an instant, rise off the linoleum and fly toward him.He reached for her, reached out for dear life, and he grabbed her by the waist as his lips sought the heat of her neck.It was just then that Jesús appeared at the back door and leaned on the doorjamb.The wells of his eyes were bottomless.He began spitting out words in Spanish, and so did Gloria, and around Rick’s head spun a room of o’s and a’s, spinning and singing like big and angry tops.César jumped up as Jesús was pushing Gloria toward the living room, but before he could get there, Rick had jumped on Jesús’s back and had ridden him to the floor.That was all Rick could do.Jesús flipped him over his head and dragged him into the back yard.Gloria, César, and Isaac ran out after them.“Peleá,” Jesús yelled, and he circled Rick, his two fists knotty rocks.“¡Levantate!” Jesús said, and a crowd was beginning to form.The less brave stood on their porches, inside their back doors, or peeked from behind curtains.Mikey watched from his back door, eating a Fluffernutter on Wonder bread, but when the braver spectators came and made themselves a circle, he ran upstairs and watched from his bedroom window.The crowd closed the circle in the yard at 50 All-Bright Court, leaving only Rick and Jesús in the center, and the only way Rick could get out was to fight.Rick stood up.He began circling, looking for a way out, for a way to drop Jesús and just get away, but his head was humming from the beer.While he listened to the hum, Jesús dropped him with a right.“Get ’em.Get ’em,” Mikey said, jumping up and down.He dropped his sandwich and began throwing punches before the window.Rick lay on the ground, blood dripping from his nose.“¡Levantate!” Jesús taunted.“¡Basta!” Gloria screamed.“¡Basta, Jesús!”“Did you hear that?” someone said.“She calling her brother a bastard.Did you hear that? She calling her brother a bastard in the yard.”“I always thought he was,” someone else whispered.“That’s a shame, telling all they business in the street.But you know them people [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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