Crazy Horse's Girlfriend (9781940430447) (7 page)

“This whole town makes me feel lonely.”

“Hmmm.”

He stood up and looked out of the window. “I feel like that a lot, though.”

“Me too.”

“I've never said that to anyone,” he said, looking at me with a puzzled expression on his face.

“What?”

“That things make me feel lonely,” he said, sitting back down.

We were silent for a while, trading the bottle back and forth.

“I think we think too much,” I said and he laughed. “You know what I think about? The toys.”

“Toys?”

“Yeah, look at all of the toys in the apartment we were just in. How many kids lived in these awful apartments. You know, this wasn't abandoned when I was a kid. There were people living here. And it wasn't in much better shape than it is now.”

Mike nodded. “I guess I forget how lucky I have it,” he said, looking down at his shoes.

“Me too. Well, at least better than these people had it.”

“Yeah?”

“My parents struggle. But my mom teaches at the elementary school and my dad, he's a mechanic. But he drinks.”

“Don't we all,” he said. “My parents drink. My mom drinks merlot. Only merlot. A lot of merlot. My dad drinks only single malt scotch. Alone. In his office. Which is maybe why my mother drinks.”

I looked at him curiously. “What does your mom do?”

“My dad makes enough, so she doesn't have to work. She goes to church. That's her thing. Not mine. I told her a few years back that I wasn't going to go with her anymore. My dad doesn't. Why should I have to?”

“And you're an only child?”

“Yeah… I was adopted when I was two months old. From Colombia.” He picked the bottle up from the floor, looked at it thoughtfully and took a quick drink, wiping his mouth after.

“Ah. Yes. I think Julia said something about that.”

Mike looked uneasy.

“What?”

“She asked what tribe I was.”

“Well, you look Indian,” I said.

“Huh. I guess I've… never given it much thought,” he said, drinking and shifting uncomfortably on the couch, particles of dust coming up and reflecting in the candlelight.

“You know, Jake was adopted.”

“Ohhh,” Mike said, “that makes sense.”

“People are always curious about him. They never believe he's my cousin. They always think he's my boyfriend. Then they get worried for me.”

“Nice,” Mike said sarcastically.

“Yeah.”

“People are fucking stupid sometimes.”

“They really are.”

“So, Jake said something about Native American Church. That his parents and your mom used to go there, but they don't anymore. In California, I remember meeting a couple of Indians at a party once that talked about it. Do you go?”

“When I can. There's one in Denver and I took Julia to it once. She seemed to like it. I don't know. It's not like other churches. At least not to me.”

“How's that?”

“Well, it's not so much about some God in the sky, looking to punish you and shit. More about this life.”

Mike looked thoughtful. “I like that.”

“Me too.”

“But my dad doesn't like it when we go, or when we go to powwow.” I looked down at the bottle and picked up it up, drank. Set it back down again.

“Why?”

“Don't know for sure. I guess he feels threatened or something.”

Mike looked confused. “Your dad is white?”

“Yeah.”

Mike looked at me thoughtfully. “Is that how you got that?” he asked, brushing my bruise lightly with his hand.

“Yeah. Sometimes he gets mean when he gets drunk. But to be fair, I had just come back from the hospital after a deal gone wrong. You know, the thing with the meth-head. My parents know Jake and me deal. I can understand why they don't want me to do that. But we want to get out of here when I turn eighteen, and we make pretty good money dealing. I've got a savings account.” I laughed cynically, the sound of it echoing a bit in the dark, nearly empty room.

“What?”

“My mom set it up for me. When I was twelve. For college.”

“College,” he said in a funny, bitter way.

“You don't want to go?”

He sighed heavily and looked out into the room, his eyes cloudy. “Well, I know my parents want me to go. They think college is the answer to everything. They want me to be like them.”

“What do you want?”

He was silent for a while, drinking from the bottle. “Do you have a cigarette?” he asked, and I pulled one out of my pack. He lit it.

“I'm surprised you smoke, track guy,” I said, lighting one for myself.

“Sometimes.”

“What do you want?” he asked me.

“You first.”

“Well, maybe to travel. Maybe to South America. To… not be like them. My parents I mean.”

“Yeah. That's what I want too. My mom got pregnant with me and well, then she had to stay with my dad. Fuck, that's what half the dumb broads in this town did. Now they're like, in prison. Serving life sentences.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

He was silent again for a while, smoking.

“Well, I want to have kids. I mean, I don't have really anything of my own. Not that I don't love my parents, I do.” He stopped again. “Well, I think I do.” He shook his head and smiled at me uneasily. “I don't know. I don't know what I want.”

“You know what I want?”

“What's that?”

“Rainbows and ponies.”

He laughed.

“That may not be a reasonable goal. That's how my dad would put it.”

“Yeah, I'm sure my dad would put it the same way.”

He put his cigarette out on the floor. He had only taken a few puffs, so it was long, crooked. He brushed it out of the way with his foot, dirtying what was clearly one hell of an expensive sneaker.

“Well, I'm sorry your dad does that. Hits you. If you ever need help...”

“Are you going to beat my daddy up for me?” I asked. I wanted it to sound playful but I could tell that what I felt underneath was bubbling up. A vulnerability.

“Maybe,” he said, taking my cigarette from my hand and putting it out next to where he'd put his out on the floor. He brushed it out of the way the same way he had his own. He looked at me and I resisted the urge to look away, down. He pulled my hair back from my face.

“No one should hit someone with a face like yours.”

“No one should hit someone with a face.”

“You're funny,” he said, “and beautiful.”

“Just kiss my face,” I said and he leaned over carefully, slowly and kissed me. He was soft, gentle, and yet I could feel my heart hammering hard against his and his hand snaking up and around my waist.

“Where have you guys been?” It was Julia, with Treena right behind her. “Oh, sorry,” she said, watching us as we broke. “But someone brought a stereo. And they're playing music. And dancing. And I thought you might want to dance.”

I shrugged. “Sure,” I said. “Dance?”

“Dance,” Mike said, and we got up and followed Julia and Treena back. Folks were dancing in the middle of the floor, Prince's “Purple Rain” blasting. I stood at the edge and looked at Mike.

“Come
on
,” Julia said, dragging me by the arm. I looked over at Mike.

“I don't really dance,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “But you can if you want to.”

“Come on! Dance with us!” Julia said, pulling me away. I smiled and followed her onto the floor, not that I had much choice. I danced to “Purple Rain” with Julia and Treena. Julia was a good dancer, but Treena just scanned the crowd for boys whenever she danced, which caused her to bump into people. I felt awkward and weird dancing in front of Mike, even though by that time I was starting to feel pretty drunk. I danced for a few songs and then leaned over to Julia and told her that I was going to sit down.

“No! Keep dancing with us!”

I shook my head and told her that I would later. I walked back over to where I'd last seen Mike, but he wasn't there, so I went around and found Jake. It took a while to get to him, as the place was now full to busting with drunk partygoers. When I finally got to him, he was standing with a bunch of guys and they were passing a joint around.

“Hey. Did you see where Mike went?”

“I've made serious bank tonight,” Jake said.

“Awesome. But, have you seen Mike? I was with him a second ago and then Julia came around and wanted me to dance with her.”

Jake squinted thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, I thought I saw him running off with some of the other guys from track. They just showed up. I didn't invite them. They went off somewhere.”

One of the dudes standing around looked at me. “Yo? You mean that little Mexican dude? The one with the North Face jacket, orange?”

“He's not… yeah. That one.”

“Oh, yeah, he went off with some guys. Those guys are fucking cokeheads man. I mean, I like coke and shit, but they're like, rich and shit, and all they ever do is coke. I think that's how they run so fucking fast,” he said, cracking himself up.

“Oh,” I said, looking at Jake, who shrugged.

I wasn't going to go running after him like a freak, so I figured I'd just hang out until he reappeared. I felt bad then about abandoning him to go dance with Julia, but she'd been so insistent that I felt like I couldn't say no. I went to the kitchen to get another drink. It was crowded and I had to fight my way to the counter. There wasn't much left, and so I pulled my flask out of my pocket and filled it. As I walked back over to Jake, I started to worry about the police coming, but on this side of town, it was kinda wild anyway and I figured the neighbors probably wouldn't complain. The problem was that the cops drove through this section a lot and if they spotted the lights and heard the noise, they might decide to check it out.

I stood around with Jake and his pals listening to them talk about heavy metal bands. Dudes killed me. Whenever they got together, they always had to talk about shit they knew about and compete over who knew more.

“Jake. You think Mike left?” I asked, turning to him.

“Oh! Look at my little cousin! She's so cute!” He said, pulling me into a headlock. “She's so cute and all in love. You got yourself a little boyfriend,” he said, twisting me around.

“Jake! You drunk, cut it out. He's not my boyfriend, for fuck's sake. You suck. Let me go,” I said, trying to get out of his grip, but the fucker was crazy strong, and it was impossible.

“Admit you loooooove him and I will.”

“No!”

“C'mon. You looooooove him. You want to have pretty Colombian babies all day long.”

“Oh, God, let me go! You're catching my hair again, Jake!” He was drunk though, and I forgave him, though he was embarrassing the ever-loving hell outta me with the Mike stuff.

“This is revenge!” He said, but he quit when I told him it was hurting my side.

I straightened myself out while his friends laughed, one of them even snorting vodka out of his nose. “She's like a pissed off cat, man!” The guy who'd told me he'd seen Mike said.

“Yes. I'm a pissed off cat,” I said in monotone and this only made them laugh even more.

“Hey,” I heard at my back. It was Mike.

Jake's guys started laughing like mad, and I worried like hell that he'd overheard them teasing me about him.

“Let's go over here,” I said, leading him away.

“Like a cat, reow!” I heard one of them say as we left.

“What was that all about?” Mike asked.

“I have no idea. Those are Jake's friends. Some of them are fucking idiots.”

“I gathered that,” he said. We went over to a semi-empty corner and he looked at me. I smiled, looked down.

“Hey,” he said, “I'm gonna head home soon. But my parents are out of town next weekend. You want to come up?”

“Sure.”

We exchanged phone numbers and before he left, he hesitated, leaned in and kissed me. He squeezed my arm. “Talk to you soon. I'm going to have to visit you in your office.”

“My office?”

“The stairs. Outside.”

“Oh, that office.”

“Bye,” he said, walking away.

I walked back over to Jake and once I could see that Mike was definitely gone, I punched him as hard as I could in the arm.