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nice and had a lovely daughter, and Leonard s awful hat had been destroyed.
The lovely daughter had fed me and fucked me, and now I lay me down to sleep.
I wondered what Brett was doing.
Maybe what I had been doing.
Wrong approach.
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I closed my eyes.
I pulled Beatrice close.
And wondered again what Brett was doing.
No future in that.
Finally, I slept.
13
NEXT MORNING I ROSE while Beatrice slept, dressed, went in to check on
Leonard. He opened his eyes when I walked into the room.
Morning, I said.
Morning. My, you look happy. Been poundin the possum, ain t you?
Now that you mention it, yes.
I can always tell. You have that smug look and the eyes get hooded, like
Robert Mitchum.
I sat on the edge of the bed. I said, Now what?
Well, now that you ve had what you need, have taken advantage of a poor
peasant girl
Hah.
I don t think we want to stay here.
Very good. But that isn t exactly a plan. How re you feeling?
Like I ve been wiped, flushed, and I m on my way out to sea. I m bored enough
to collect farts and name them, yet I don t feel like I could do much. I m
lucky I had good stomach muscles, or I d be dead.
You re lucky he had a short knife, I said. Your stomach muscles aren t that
good.
And yours aren t good at all.
What I have are table muscles. They re more subtle. Look, I ll see if
Beatrice will take us into town. Maybe we can make a phone call there.
How would we get out of here? Get back to the U.S. Pontoon boat?
I haven t a clue. Question is, are you up to it?
Leonard tried to rise, said, You know what? I m not up to it.
Then we better not arrange a way out yet. You don t need to travel, you feel
that bad.
You don t hear me fighting with you.
Then you are hurt, I said. I ve never known you to give in to me that
easy.
You got a point, bucko.
Lie down. I ll see I can rustle you up some breakfast.
I left out of there, discovered Beatrice was up and moving toward the kitchen.
I followed. She smiled at me.
Last night was very good, she said.
Yes it was.
It meant something to me, but I do not want you to think it meant everything.
Do you understand?
I do.
Good. Are you hungry?
I am. And so is Leonard.
How is he?
Better, but not up to snuff. I know you want us to leave out, Beatrice. And
we will. But maybe another day or two for Leonard to rest.
Suddenly she became very hard. One more day. No more than that.
Fine, I said. One more day.
She put some grounds in a pot and started coffee. It was so dark and rich with
aroma it made my nose hairs quiver. I had a feeling it wasn t decaf. She
located some more bread and cheese and took it to Leonard. We sat in the room
with him and ate the same. Beatrice brought us cups of coffee. After two cups
I felt as if I had been blackjacked and ass-kicked.
In spite of the food and coffee, Leonard drifted back to sleep. Beatrice
smiled at me. She wiggled her finger for me to come, stood up, and went out of
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the room.
We went back to her bedroom and went to bed. We made love one more time. I was
lucky she wasn t like Brett. I wouldn t have had enough rubbers.
At least it had been that way for a while.
After we lay together for a while, Beatrice led me out on the back porch and
showed me how a shower was set up there with a pull chain. The water was in a
big tin reservoir. It was put there by the rain and sometimes brought in from
outside, but there was only so much water, she said, so we showered together.
Which wasn t something I considered a drawback.
As I soaped her up in the pink morning light her breasts, damp with the water
from the homemade shower, were dark and slick under my touch, and the thick
nipples were tantalizing. I liked the way the soap foamed over them and the
way the water plastered her hair to her head, which in the light of day I
could see held streaks of gray. I liked the way the water beaded in her pubic
hair. Her eyes were deep and dark, her face was full of an expression that
showed me there was plenty to like and a lot that was hard to understand. She
was a real mystery. I liked that. I liked it so much I kissed her.
About two that afternoon I helped Leonard make it out to the outdoor
convenience, stood by outside while he finished, trying to stand far enough
away I didn t have to hear the usual bathroom sounds.
It s great to have a valet, Leonard called through the toilet walls.
Yeah, well, just don t ask me to wipe your ass for you.
Hap?
What?
There s a Mexican catalogue in here.
It s Mexico, you moron.
I mean, that s what you wipe your ass with. Pages from it.
Ouch.
Back in the house, Beatrice, dressed in a simple white cotton dress with red
and purple flowers stitched on it, searched through her shelf of books, found
Leonard a book in English, Andrew Vachss s Dead and Gone, left it with him
along with a bottle of water, bread and cheese, and a cup of coffee.
She and I drove into town so I could try and make some kind of arrangements to
get home. As we drove along with the sand blowing up and making clouds on the
road, she said, I was supposed to be at the boat this morning, to help.
What are you going to tell your father?
I will not tell him that I was servicing you.
I hear that. Hey. Wasn t I servicing you too?
You were. You did good.
Great. Good dog. Want me to fetch your slippers?
Beatrice laughed her musical laugh.
Will he be mad? I asked.
No. He does not make me work on the boat. It is as I said last night. I feel
obligated.
Thanks for going against your obligation this morning.
That is all right. Even the obligated must have, how do you say it, ashes
hauled?
Close enough. But, you know, I hate it for your father. I mean, he helps us
out, then we mess up his schedule. I make love to his daughter.
He likes to take José out. José goes with him often. José or his brothers. He
enjoys being able to give them a little money. They are even poorer than we
are. Father catches quite a few fish. But if he caught all the fish in the
ocean, he would only make so much money. It is not a rich life, the life of a
fisherman.
I hear that.
In town we stopped at a little café near the dock. Outside the café the smell
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