Nix has been at Skidmore snorting coke and coaxing the temperamental dick of her fortysomething professor?
Zorg, however, is unimpressed. “You do not have to believe in your imperialist country!” he shouts, banging his fist on the table, so that droplets of oil scatter. “You choose to be like the sheep!” Aggressively he throws back his head, his neck thick with tendons, like a horse’s. “Baaa!” he shouts. “American sheep!”
“Well, okay,” Mary says tentatively. “I’m not sure I even
do
believe in my country . . . you know, that strongly. But it’s been a pretty good place to live, and I was raised there, so what else am I supposed to believe in?”
“You should believe in
my
country! And you will!”
Nix titters awkwardly. (
What the . . . ?
) But before she can jokingly ask whether Zorg plans to hypnotize them using the leftover fish carcass, Mary lurches forward and grabs her wrist, causing Nix to bang into the table, so that her breasts skim the oily surface of her empty plate. When she gets to her feet, she has two grease nipples staining her yellow shirt.
Fish and tits
, she thinks, trying to remember to remember the joke to repeat for some occasion in London.
“Come on!” Mary shouts, jerking her arm again. “We’re going to the bathroom!”
The toilets are around the corner, behind small wooden doors in a rocky wall. Nix is surprised to find Mary crying, her breath rising and falling in crescendos. “He’s crazy,” she hisses into Nix’s ear. “Holy shit. We’ve got to get out of here.”
Nix is buzzing, a glorious afternoon-in-the-sun kind of drunk. “Chill out,” she says in her best “I know all about men” drawl. “European guys are all machismo, big deal. Don’t worry about him. If you don’t like him anymore, we can find you someone better to lose your virginity to—plenty of tourists in town.”
Mary swats Nix in the head. “No, lush, I mean it—he’s out of his freaking mind. He told me in the water that he’s bringing me back to Spain! I thought he was just trying to be romantic, you know, woo me and make me think he was into me or whatever, so I was all,
Oh, that’d be great except I can’t really do that because I go to college at home
, and he stopped dead still in the water and looked at me”—she grabs Nix’s face for emphasis, by the jaw—“like this, he looked at me like this, and he goes,
You will come to Spain with me, or I will come to America and I will find you and I will kill you
. And you heard him just now! He said I
will
believe in Spain! He’s planning to kidnap me!”
“Oh, he was just being melodramatic.” Nix laughs. “Don’t be such a gullible American. He was probably kidding.”
“He was
not
kidding! He has no sense of humor.”
“Fine, whatever,” Nix says, letting the cool stone chill her sweaty back. “They’re planning to abduct us, they just figured they’d spend a lot of money on fish and wine first and be seen in public with us in as many cafés as possible.” She sighs.
Mary crosses her arms tight across her small breasts, creating the illusion of cleavage. “I have to get out of here,” she insists. “You need to tell them you have a huge headache and want to leave, okay? Say your headache’s too bad for the scooter and you want to lie down on the backseat of Zorg’s car on the way home—I can’t be alone with that psycho.”
“Great,” Nix says dully. She liked the
Splendor in the Grass
scenario much better, even if she
was
the spinster friend. This is quickly turning into a buzz kill.
A ND SO IT comes to pass that two girls end up climbing—each sullen for a different reason—into a rental car with a Spanish man they have known for less than twenty-four hours, who may or may not be an airline pilot, whose last name they have not learned and will never learn. So it comes to pass that the man called Zorg guns the engine and takes off, not even bothering to wait for his friend Titus, still
Zorg, however, is unimpressed. “You do not have to believe in your imperialist country!” he shouts, banging his fist on the table, so that droplets of oil scatter. “You choose to be like the sheep!” Aggressively he throws back his head, his neck thick with tendons, like a horse’s. “Baaa!” he shouts. “American sheep!”
“Well, okay,” Mary says tentatively. “I’m not sure I even
do
believe in my country . . . you know, that strongly. But it’s been a pretty good place to live, and I was raised there, so what else am I supposed to believe in?”
“You should believe in
my
country! And you will!”
Nix titters awkwardly. (
What the . . . ?
) But before she can jokingly ask whether Zorg plans to hypnotize them using the leftover fish carcass, Mary lurches forward and grabs her wrist, causing Nix to bang into the table, so that her breasts skim the oily surface of her empty plate. When she gets to her feet, she has two grease nipples staining her yellow shirt.
Fish and tits
, she thinks, trying to remember to remember the joke to repeat for some occasion in London.
“Come on!” Mary shouts, jerking her arm again. “We’re going to the bathroom!”
The toilets are around the corner, behind small wooden doors in a rocky wall. Nix is surprised to find Mary crying, her breath rising and falling in crescendos. “He’s crazy,” she hisses into Nix’s ear. “Holy shit. We’ve got to get out of here.”
Nix is buzzing, a glorious afternoon-in-the-sun kind of drunk. “Chill out,” she says in her best “I know all about men” drawl. “European guys are all machismo, big deal. Don’t worry about him. If you don’t like him anymore, we can find you someone better to lose your virginity to—plenty of tourists in town.”
Mary swats Nix in the head. “No, lush, I mean it—he’s out of his freaking mind. He told me in the water that he’s bringing me back to Spain! I thought he was just trying to be romantic, you know, woo me and make me think he was into me or whatever, so I was all,
Oh, that’d be great except I can’t really do that because I go to college at home
, and he stopped dead still in the water and looked at me”—she grabs Nix’s face for emphasis, by the jaw—“like this, he looked at me like this, and he goes,
You will come to Spain with me, or I will come to America and I will find you and I will kill you
. And you heard him just now! He said I
will
believe in Spain! He’s planning to kidnap me!”
“Oh, he was just being melodramatic.” Nix laughs. “Don’t be such a gullible American. He was probably kidding.”
“He was
not
kidding! He has no sense of humor.”
“Fine, whatever,” Nix says, letting the cool stone chill her sweaty back. “They’re planning to abduct us, they just figured they’d spend a lot of money on fish and wine first and be seen in public with us in as many cafés as possible.” She sighs.
Mary crosses her arms tight across her small breasts, creating the illusion of cleavage. “I have to get out of here,” she insists. “You need to tell them you have a huge headache and want to leave, okay? Say your headache’s too bad for the scooter and you want to lie down on the backseat of Zorg’s car on the way home—I can’t be alone with that psycho.”
“Great,” Nix says dully. She liked the
Splendor in the Grass
scenario much better, even if she
was
the spinster friend. This is quickly turning into a buzz kill.
A ND SO IT comes to pass that two girls end up climbing—each sullen for a different reason—into a rental car with a Spanish man they have known for less than twenty-four hours, who may or may not be an airline pilot, whose last name they have not learned and will never learn. So it comes to pass that the man called Zorg guns the engine and takes off, not even bothering to wait for his friend Titus, still
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