stupidly, blinking, until, laughing, Alma grabbed his arms and said, “Come in, you lunk, I can’t say hello properly in the hallway.”
She pulled him into the apartment and slammed the police lock closed behind him. If her personal appearance had startled him, the decor of the pad was equally surprising. The interior walls had all been knocked out, and the plaster removed from the supporting walls, leaving exposed brick which had been washed with acid and shellacked. In the process, a fireplace had been uncovered, and it now held a low glowing fire. Originally a railroad flat, the place was now a single loft, perhaps a hundred feet long and twenty feet wide, and all the furniture was in keeping with the sense of spaciousness, including a white net hammock that spanned one entire corner. From a stereo he could not yet see, Cat Stevens sang his need for a hard-headed woman.
He could not catch up with the rush of sensations that flooded him. But Alma made up for his astonishment by putting her arms around his neck, pressing the full length of her body against his, and covering his mouth with her own. The effect was eerie, for it was the same woman he had made love to many times, and yet it was someone different. He ran his hands down her back, remembering the curve of her spine, and then he cupped her ass in his palms and pulled her pelvis toward him. Her buttocks were large and wide, but now they stood out in contrast to the rest of her, which was some forty pounds lighter than it had been. Even her breasts improved with the contrast, for whereas they had been part of her general softness, they now stood out against her slim rib cage, two hot mounds of yielding flesh that pressed into his chest. His mouth opened and her tongue immediately snaked inside, licking his teeth, his palate, and then pushing far back toward his throat, a thick pulsing organ with a wild sensual intelligence.
They held each other for a long, long time and then separated.
“Whew,” was all he could say.
It did not take long for them to get comfortable, lying by the fire with shoes and socks off, hot coffee in front of them, cigarettes sending off curls of yellow smoke. And they told each another their stories, encapsulating time with language.
Manuel told her about his job, about his plan to buy land and, finally, about his infatuation for Joan. He didn’t go into the details of what had happened, but only told her that it had been totally frustrating, and he was so confused he didn’t know whether he wanted to go back. “You see,” he said, “it is hard for me to keep my manhood in the white man’s world. They treat me like a pet monkey. But in the back of my head, I know what I am there for, so I can keep my dignity. But when something happens, like with this woman, then the bottom is pulled out.”
“I know what it is like,” she agreed. “After you left, I decided I had to find out more about this new country. You know, we came here when we were children, but all the years we spent in the barrio might well have been spent in Puerto Rico. The rest of the city was a mystery to me. So, every night after work, I went to different places. And, finally, I discovered Greenwich Village.” She smiled to herself, remembering something she didn’t articulate. “I met a musician, and he introduced me to grass, and to fancy parties, and to very sophisticated people. Well, I started to change fast. I lost weight, I learned how to dress to please myself and not my mother, I began to think about how I wanted my pad to look. And then I got lucky. Someone approached me about bringing certain packages in from Puerto Rico. Since I’m a woman and since I have family both here and there, it was likely I wouldn’t be searched. So I made a half-dozen trips within three months, and all of a sudden I was twenty thousand dollars richer. I quit that miserable job in the bank, and I’ve been hanging out ever since.”
Manuel looked at her with awe and
She pulled him into the apartment and slammed the police lock closed behind him. If her personal appearance had startled him, the decor of the pad was equally surprising. The interior walls had all been knocked out, and the plaster removed from the supporting walls, leaving exposed brick which had been washed with acid and shellacked. In the process, a fireplace had been uncovered, and it now held a low glowing fire. Originally a railroad flat, the place was now a single loft, perhaps a hundred feet long and twenty feet wide, and all the furniture was in keeping with the sense of spaciousness, including a white net hammock that spanned one entire corner. From a stereo he could not yet see, Cat Stevens sang his need for a hard-headed woman.
He could not catch up with the rush of sensations that flooded him. But Alma made up for his astonishment by putting her arms around his neck, pressing the full length of her body against his, and covering his mouth with her own. The effect was eerie, for it was the same woman he had made love to many times, and yet it was someone different. He ran his hands down her back, remembering the curve of her spine, and then he cupped her ass in his palms and pulled her pelvis toward him. Her buttocks were large and wide, but now they stood out in contrast to the rest of her, which was some forty pounds lighter than it had been. Even her breasts improved with the contrast, for whereas they had been part of her general softness, they now stood out against her slim rib cage, two hot mounds of yielding flesh that pressed into his chest. His mouth opened and her tongue immediately snaked inside, licking his teeth, his palate, and then pushing far back toward his throat, a thick pulsing organ with a wild sensual intelligence.
They held each other for a long, long time and then separated.
“Whew,” was all he could say.
It did not take long for them to get comfortable, lying by the fire with shoes and socks off, hot coffee in front of them, cigarettes sending off curls of yellow smoke. And they told each another their stories, encapsulating time with language.
Manuel told her about his job, about his plan to buy land and, finally, about his infatuation for Joan. He didn’t go into the details of what had happened, but only told her that it had been totally frustrating, and he was so confused he didn’t know whether he wanted to go back. “You see,” he said, “it is hard for me to keep my manhood in the white man’s world. They treat me like a pet monkey. But in the back of my head, I know what I am there for, so I can keep my dignity. But when something happens, like with this woman, then the bottom is pulled out.”
“I know what it is like,” she agreed. “After you left, I decided I had to find out more about this new country. You know, we came here when we were children, but all the years we spent in the barrio might well have been spent in Puerto Rico. The rest of the city was a mystery to me. So, every night after work, I went to different places. And, finally, I discovered Greenwich Village.” She smiled to herself, remembering something she didn’t articulate. “I met a musician, and he introduced me to grass, and to fancy parties, and to very sophisticated people. Well, I started to change fast. I lost weight, I learned how to dress to please myself and not my mother, I began to think about how I wanted my pad to look. And then I got lucky. Someone approached me about bringing certain packages in from Puerto Rico. Since I’m a woman and since I have family both here and there, it was likely I wouldn’t be searched. So I made a half-dozen trips within three months, and all of a sudden I was twenty thousand dollars richer. I quit that miserable job in the bank, and I’ve been hanging out ever since.”
Manuel looked at her with awe and
Similar Books
