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He heard the faint sound of someone coughing. The bathroom was all marble, like a Roman tomb. The fixtures were gold
plated. There was a bee in the shower. He drowned it with a jet of hot water. He saw his disembodied image on the handles.
Suddenly, there was no hot water. “A big house like this and no hot water,” he scoffed. Goose pimples covered his skin under
the cold rain. He knew it would be hot outside. Hotter than he cared to remember. The humidity would suffocate him.

Aman groaning, yelling “ouch..ouch...” then silence and then “ouch...ahh” ...again. He sat on the bed wet hearing this for
along time. The-sun and the roosters were rising together. He -had:arrived.only. afew hours before. The plane had been twelve
hours late. The pilot had fought with.a:gi id. his:shand. The pilot had to go to a hospital

and stitch it up. sf

Someone was {
found some poma
hands. His pony t
loved their gran

child of the morning. He
ats held in front with both
te houses now. Some
e cut himself shaving.
lowed and flowed. He
d did not dry quickly.

hen again, painfully
d on top surrounded
rvants and six cars.

the compound
Akitchen larg
was he? Aver
like aMadonn
leave her like

The music |
and beans. Eve
with gilded fram
he could give hi
seven. Her fath
inheritance. He
father speaks of y

“Buenos Dias
Little elves who kept
stone bowl. The thi
of papaya. “I'll eat h
took his sketch pad ani
him to his room smiled
his arm. She looked at®

An electronic bell ran
beans, buttermilk, white bres
small vase. Two servants h
they angry with me,” he aske
was dead. He had been carried

It was noon already. He had b
eyes opened wide and filled with water |
skin pale like a lizard resting on a white r
“El Senor.” She said in a fast voice. “El Senor.
to the top of her braids.

At the top of the stairs he did not know which room to go to. The hall formed a large rectangle. In the middle, he could
look down and see the two floors below. He could not hear anything. He stood there with his hand on the balustrade feeling
foolish, compassionless. He saw shadows below a door at the end of the hall. He opened the door without knocking. The
mistress was sitting on a chair looking at him. She could be his too. His inheritance. A modern radio was askew on the night
table as ifithad been knocked to the floor and hastily been picked up. The digital numbers flashed 12:16 incessantly. He looked
at him. “He was.no John Houston” he thought critically. He was a small man. His face was clean shaven. His eyes were still
open. He knew she had not touched him. He saw no tears but she bit her lower lip, perhaps afraid of her freedom. In the room
there was one picture. A photograph in an ornate gold frame. It was him, the son, before he drifted away and escaped. A pho-
tograph of himself. He never expected that. He turned the photograph down in embarrassment.

“We should call the doctor.”
“You should kiss him first, | can not. No puedo.”

He bent over and looked at him like a paleontologist over a half burried fossil. He examined the wide eyes and his mouth. He
kissed his forehead, smelled the sweat and closed his eyes.

oom. Then he would

elled fried platanos
old fixtures. Mirrors
nacross. Perhaps
€ was not yet twenty
She would claim her
phone she said, “Your

h other embarrassed.
ound coffee in a large
stewed fruit. A piece
e had nothing to do. He
The girl who had shown
y him letting her hair brush

epared carefully: Mashed
e yellow orchid was set on a
as invisible to them. “Why are
ke a silted river. He knew Simon

of coffee. The bell rang again. Mariela’s
ung up the phone. He could see her dark

pitched voice. “Dios Mio.” and she put her hands

R. A. Zisman

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ENG 2 S
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He heard the faint sound of someone coughing. The bathroom was all marble, like a Roman tomb. The fixtures wergigold
lated. There was a bee in the shower. He drowned it with a jet of hot water. He saw his disembodied image on the handles.
uddenly, there was no hot water. “Abig house like this and no hot water,” he scoffed. Goose pimples covered his skin under

the cold rain. He knew it would be hot outside. Hotter than he cared to remember. The humidity would suffocate him.

and stitch it up.

Someone was talking, ie child of the morning. He
found some pomade in th their hats held in front with both

nifor Ter apie nouses now Sone
w, she:had told him. He cut himself shaving.

mall cut but the blood flowed and flowed. He

lashed stone we
ront were arched lik
The clankin

was he? A ver eenage girl had shown him idthe flashlight to her face
like a Madont uld make love to her. H up the room. Then he would
leave her like a aten frui » . -

The music j jero'songs, tree. He smelied fried platanos
and beans. Even’ Marble and gold fixtures. Mirrors

lo icons. Not even across. Perhaps
forten years. She was not yet twenty
sda She would claim her

hone she said, “Your

i er |
inheritance. He would make love to ht

father speaks of you now...he no ton

ee

id, “Como esta el viejo le. ughed and looked at each other embarrassed.
Little elves who kept his bones: anid is making masa and another ground coffee in a large
d was ret late: sans, tortillas an empanada with stewed fruit. A piece
of papaya. “I'll eat ne ‘ 0 nished eating silently and felt he had nothing to do. He
took his sketch pad and be smell the red
him to his room smiled at hi He g and her |

st
ae ers s E
up_aphoni A

d eh

1. The

was invisible to them. “Why are

they angry with me,” he asked. He felt his cu /like a silted river. He knew Simon

was dead. He had been carried downs!

Itwas noon already. He had been siting inthe ct
eyes opened wide and filled with water asitatau thad spr
skin pale like a lizard resting on a white rock. -

“El Senor.” She said in a fast voice. “El Senor.” She saldit again in-a'high pitched voice. “Dios Mio.” and she put her hands
to the top of her braids.

At the top of the stairs he did not know which room to go to. The hall formed a large rectangle. In the middle, he could
look down and see the two floors below. He could not hear anything. He stood there with his hand on the balustrade feeling
foolish, compassionless. He saw shadows below a door at the end of the hall. He opened the door without knocking. The
mistress was sitting on a chair looking at him. She could be his too. His inheritance. A modern radio was askew on the night
table as ifit had been knocked to the floor and hastily been picked up. The digital numbers flashed 12:16 incessantly. He looked
at him. “He was no John Houston” he thought critically. He was a small man. His face was clean shaven. His eyes were still
open. He knew she had not touched him. He saw no tears but she bit her lower lip, perhaps afraid of her freedom. In the room
there was one picture. A photograph in an ornate gold frame. It was him, the son, before he drifted away and escaped. Apho-
tograph of himself. He never expected that. He turned the photograph down in embarrassment.

“We should call the doctor.”

“You should kiss him first, | can not. No puedo.”

He bent over and looked at him like a paleontologist over a half ourried fossil. He examined the wide eyes and his mouth. He
kissed his forehead, smelled the sweat and closed his eyes.

f coffee. The bell rang again. Mariela's
jung up the phone. He could see her dark

R.A. Zisman,