Tuesday, April 19, 2011

3 STORIES

MUSTANG

Eddie died smashed by his car. His car was red. He made sure of it. He polished the thing until it looked like a blood smear. The last time I saw Eddie he was still alive. He was wearing a white tank top. He was wearing his black hair slicked. He was holding his arms crossed behind his head. He was leaning back in his chair. He was staring up at the sky. It was night. I was drunk. He was stupid. He kept looking at the sky and talking about all the ass and tits in the world. He was talking about his children. He was laughing about my sister's ass. He was yelling about his ex-wife and her devil mother. He was talking about his car. He was talking about his shiny red car.

THE THINGS I MEAN WHEN I SHOUT 'AMERICA'

This is the best we could do.

It is not better anywhere else than here.

I am going to get drunk now.

I was born here.

I am really drunk now.


BRUCE LEE

The uncle is wrong in the head. They were all born together near Salt Creek. 10 children and one widow. The men became alcoholics and the women had nervous breakdowns. They were not born in America. Now the uncle lives in a hospital in Miami. He calls himself Bruce Lee. The widow does not speak English. She smuggled goods across a border. When the children go to visit him he remembers some things. The dog in the courtyard. The rat in the pantry. The steps to the bus stop. The son who is not the oldest is now the leader. He organizes trips to visit the uncle in Miami. The widow comes along. They all speak with the uncle in his room. He always asks about the dog in the courtyard. Is it still there? When they come home they forget it was a vacation. They think Maybe he will wake up someday. Maybe he will remember everything. The widow has his phone number posted on the refrigerator. Above it is written the name BROSS LEE.

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