King of Swords

Fifteen minutes in Max was bored stiff. The plot was meandering and Pam was nowhere in sight. He needed a cigarette and a drink. Paul Newman and his partner tried to talk a transvestite out of throwing himself off a roof.

Paul Newman - in his fifties and looking it — started an affair with a young Latina junkie. He yawned and looked at Sandra, who was engrossed. He didn't know why. Maybe he was missing something deep. He remembered the liquor store close to the cinema. He thought of going out to get himself a quart of bourbon and have a smoke. Then Pam appeared and he briefly forgot about his needs. She looked rough in this, because she was playing a psycho junkie hooker who kills two of Paul Newman's corrupt colleagues. He'd never paid attention to her acting talent before, but he had to admit she was pretty scary, killing people with razor blades hidden in her mouth (she'd used the razor blade in mouth trick in Foxy Brown, but that was to free herself), and oozing cold-eyed menace. She killed a couple of corrupt cops and disappeared. He waited for her to come back for a good while, but realized she probably wouldn't be taking her clothes off and decided to slip out.

At the liquor store he bought a quart of bourbon and smoked a Marlboro outside the cinema.

When he sat back down next to Sandra he tipped some of the bourbon into the cup. He offered Sandra some. She

352 shook her head and looked at him with a mixture of disgust and worry.

After the film was finished she insisted on driving his Mustang. He could see she was pissed off with him.

'Did you enjoy the film?' he said as they went down Alton Road.

'How much do you drink?' she asked.

'I'm sorry about that '

'How much do you drink, Max?'

'On and off, some days more than others.'

'So you drink every day?'

'Yeah.'

Why?'

'All kindsa reasons: unwinding, socializing, something bad's happened. And 'cause I like it,' he said. 'A lotta cops drink.'

'Why did you drink in the cinema?'

'I thought the film was boring. I needed a break.'

'You were with me.' She sounded hurt.

'You weren't up on the screen,' he quipped.

'Do you have a drink problem?'

'I don't think so, no.'

' 'Cause I'll tell you this now, I am not having a relationship with an alcoholic. There'll be four of us in the same room: you and me, the person you turn into when you're loaded and the bottle. I am not going to live like that. No way.' She was angry.

'Jeez, Sandra, I'm sorry, all right?'

She was having none of it.

'I had an uncle who was an alcoholic. He died of cirrhosis.

I le was in a lot of pain at the end, puking blood, scratching his skin raw. I don't want to have to go through that with you, if I can help it.'

They turned on to 15 th Street. Max lit a cigarette.

35 3 'And that's something else that's going to have to go.'

'Damn, Sandra!'

'Kissing you's about as close as I can get to licking a dirty ashtray. You ever licked an ashtray, Max?'

'I like smoking,' Max protested.

'No, you don't. You're just hooked. A junkie like Pam Grier was in the movie.'

'A junkie} Me? Get outta here!'

'Have you tried to quit?'

'No.'

'Bet you can't imagine life without one, huh?'

'I wasn't born with a cigarette in my mouth,' Max said.

'Have you ever smoked?'

'I tried it once and thought it was disgusting. Which it is.

And it's dangerous too.'

'So's livin' in Miami.' Max chuckled. 'Besides, cigarettes go great with coffee, drink, after sex, after a meal —'

'They don't go great with life.' Sandra cut him off. 'Are you going to be one of those guys you see, aged sixty, wheeling an oxygen tank around with tubes in their nose 'cause they've got emphysema and can't breathe? Or one of those people with a hole in his throat and a battery-operated voicebox?'

'You're assuming a lot,' Max said.

'Like what?'

'Like we're going to be together that long. I mean, we haven't even — you know — slept together.'

'You haven't asked.'

'I have to ask you?'

'I'm an old-fashioned girl,' Sandra said.

'I thought you wanted to take it slow.'

'You haven't even made a move in — in what's it been? — a month?'

'I didn't wanna scare you off. But since you're offerin' — your place or mine?'

3 54 'We're going to yours,' she said.

'I warn you, it's a tip.'

'I figured that,' she replied. 'Besides, my mama always told me to beware of a man with a tidy house. He's either loco or a maricon?

45

In his apartment in South Miami Heights, Joe put on his favourite sad song — Bruce Springsteen's 'The Promise' and sat back in his armchair with a glass of red wine.

Lina had just cleared away the plates and blown out the candles from their dinner. It should have been a happy occasion for him — a quiet confirmation of his love for the woman he wanted to marry. But instead, Joe felt bad. He couldn't slip away from the shadows in his mind and let go the heaviness in his heart.