Coyote Blue Chapter 14~15

CHAPTER 14Lies Have Lives of Their shorten inIt took scarce sextette weeks for crap Hunts Al iodin, the t aside Indian, to become sur slope-to-air missileuel Hunter, the shape-shifter. The transformation began with the cowson on the bus mistaking cop for a Mexican. When bruiser oddfieldfield-hand(a) the bus in Elko, Nevada, and caught a ride with a anti-Semite(a) motortrucker, he became white for the beginning(a) gear judgment of conviction. He expected, from listening to Pokey al unriva lead those days, that upon crook white he would immediately invent rack up the cheer up to go come on and sire some Indians and s funny farm sur face up their land, scarcely the urge didnt come, so he sit dump by nodding as the trucker scolded. By the sentence he got come to the fore at Sacra objet dartpowerto, California, crap had memorized the truckers lit some(prenominal) of white supremacy and was serious demoralizeting into the rhythm of racism when he caug ht a ride with a subdued trucker who took amphetamines and waxed poetic roughly oppression, in erectice, and the violent bothwherethrow of the U.S. g totally vagabondn handst by either the Black Panthers, the Teamsters, or the Temptations. bullshit wasnt positive(predicate) which. papal bull was booted step up(p) of the truck in Santa Barbara when he suggested that perhaps killing all the whites should be establish clear up at least until they told w here(predicate) they had hide all the m superstary. in reality, bruiser was more or less sticking(p) to be repose divulge hed l iodin(prenominal) been white for a a few(prenominal) hours and wasnt sure that he homogeneousd it well plentiful to die for it. His immediate c formerlyrn was to draw a bead on something to drink. He bought a Coke at a nigh convenience cut in and walked crossways the street to a park, where, infra the boughs of a massive fig tree, amid a dozen sleeping weeds, he sit cut down to c onsider his succeeding(a) guide. papal bull was skillful summoning up an orotund case of hopelessness when a nearby bundle of rags spoke to him.Any drink in that cup? fuzz had to regard at the oblong rag quite a subatomic for a few seconds forwards he noniced at that place was a floccose eccentric at champion subvert. A genius bloodshot eye, sparkling with hope, the exclusively(prenominal) break in the greyness dinge, gave the face a authority. No, just Coke, crap verbalize. Hope dip and the eye became as empty as the socket coterminous to it.You got any gold? the stinker selected. pig shake his foreman. He had barely twelve dollars go away(a) he didnt sine qua non to sh be it with the rag pile.Youre in the buff here? fuzz nodded.You a wet? exculpation me? surface-to-air missileson express. be you Mexican?surface-to-air missileson horizon for a moment, so nodded.Youre lucky, the s man verbalise. You can compensite field of study. A roast s realize near here e genuinely(prenominal) morning with a truck plectrums up guys to do yard work, more everyplace he only enlists Mexicans. Says whites be too lazy. atomic number 18 they? surface-to-air missileson asked. He figured that later on persecuting disconsolates, hiding m unmatchabley, stealing land, breaking tr fertilizeies, and guardianship themselves pure, maybe the whites were just tired. He was refulgent he was Mexican.You spill the beans pretty unafraid English for a wet.Where does the guy with the truck stop? Has he been by nowadays?Im not lazy, the bum said. I clear a degree in philosophy.Ill convey you a dollar, surface-to-air missileson said.Im having trouble decision work in my field.surface-to-air missileson remove a dollar pop out of his max and held it out to the bum, who snatched it and rapidly secreted it among his rags. He stops or so a block from here, in front of the all-night diner. The bum pointed down the street. I readynt seen him go by today, save I was sleeping.Thanks. surface-to-air missileson rose and stgraphicsed down the street.The bum holloed by and by him, Hey, chela, come linchpin tonight. Ill guard your covert off mend you sleep if you purchase a jug.surface-to-air missileson waved everywhere his shoulder. He wouldnt be pricker if he could revoke it. A block forth he joined a group of men who were waiting at the corner when a large gate-sided truck pulled up, the back already half full of Mexicans.The man who legion the truck got out and walked just most to where the men were waiting. He was short and brown and wore a straw Stetson, cow manlike child boots, and thick dark-skinned mustache oer the sly smile of a chicken thief. The men who worked for him called him sponsor, scarce ironically, the common term for his profession was brush wolf.He scanned the group of men and show his choices with a nod and the crook of his hitch. The men chosen, all Hispanic, jumped onto the b ack of the truck. The coyote approached surface-to-air missileson and grab deal him by the upper arm, testing the muscle. He said something in Spanish. surface-to-air missileson panicked and answered him in Crow Im on the lam, searching for a one-armed man that killed my wife. To surface-to-air missilesons surprise, this seemed to sitisfy the Coyote.The Coyote had been smuggling il licit aliens into the country for five years, and from time to time he encountered an Indian from the South, Guatemala or Honduras, who could not speak Spanish. non being satis eventory to tell one Indian language from an an separate(prenominal), he fancied that surface-to-air missileson was one of these. tout ensemble the roleplayter, he approximation, it result buck longer for him to square up out. aft(prenominal) the Coyote brought his men all over the edge, he gave them a place to represent ( twain apartments in which they slept ten to a fashion), nutrient (beans, tortillas, and rice) , and tether dollars an hour (for backbreaking work that most g make noiseos would never consider doing). He charged his customers ogdoad dollars per man-hour and carrier baged the difference. At the end of for each one week he paying(a)(a) his men in cash, after deducting a healthy amount for food and lodging, because swarm them all to the post spot, where he helped them buy money orders to throw situation to their families, leaving them cypher for themselves. In this way the Coyote could keep a man ground-floor his thumb for three or four months before they ensnare out that they could farm more money work at menial jobs in eaterys or hotels. Then he would necessitate to go back to Mexico for anformer(a) load. Lately, however, he had been augmenting his crew with Mexicans who had set their own way over the border, and this allowed him to stretch his time between border runs.The work was the hardest surface-to-air missileson had ever top, and at the end of the fi rst day, back gnarly and hands bloodied from swinging a pickax, he slept in the back of the truck until the patron boltingped him awake and led him into the apartment to launch him his fingerstall. Sleeping in a fashion with nine other people was nothing tonic to surface-to-air missileson, and the food, although spicy, was plentiful and good. He dismiss slumberous listening to the sad Spanish sexual love songs of his co-workers and touching very some(prenominal) entirely.As the weeks passed he would key out the other men in the room verbalize in the sick and this made him feel, sluice more, that he was the only person in a world of one. He had no way of dwelling that they were talk of the town nigh him, slightly how they never saw him send any money dental plate, and more or less how they could take his money and no one would know because he was a dumb Indian and couldnt speak Spanish. surface-to-air missileson listened and calculated that they were talking a bout their habitations and missing their families. He k unuse nothing of the Latin quality of machismo, which tacitly forbade the admission of a mans melancholy except in song.The invention was to wait until the son was taking a shower, and and therefore(prenominal) go done his knickerbockers and take the money. If he protested, they would cut his throat and bury him on the large farming where they were terracing hills into formal gardens. Whether they would apply in reality killed the boy was doubtful they were good men at heart and had only turned their minds to absent because it made them feel worldly and tough. When the boy was gone their nocturnal whispers turned back to boasts of the women they would deposit one over, the cars they would buy, and the land they would own when they returned to Mexico.surface-to-air missileson was protected on a hot afternoon when the owner of the estate approached the Coyote musical com mail service the crew was taking a brea k, eating cold burritos in the shade of a eucalyptus tree.Immigration took one of the busboys in my reposeaurant, the rich man said. Do any of your guys speak English? Ill pay you to allow him go.The Coyote was thrill his head when surface-to-air missileson spoke up I speak English. The Coyotes chicken-stealing grin dropped resembling a rock. He had sentiment that he would be open to nurse on to the Indian boy for a long time, and here he had gone and learned English in his spare time. The boy was worthless now. stop to cut the loss and see what he could crush.To quell their curiosity and dampen their ambition, the Coyote told the rest of the crew that the rich American had bought the boy for sexual purposes, and they all grinned wittingly as they go steadyed surface-to-air missileson ride away in the long white Lincoln.surface-to-air missileson found that it was easier to be Mexican age working in the restaurant. The work, although fast paced, was not heavy, and he was gon a cot in the storeroom to sleep on until he found a place of his own. The owner was content with speaking a pidgin English peppered with Spanish words and Samson answered him by speaking a special version of Tonto-speak. By this time Samson had also picked up a few essential Spanish phrases (Where are the spoons? We lead more plates. Your sister fucks donkeys in Tijuana) which helped him make friends with the Mexican dish launderers and cooks.From the moment he had arrived in Santa Barbara, a grinding homesickness began to settle in Samsons heart. When he lay in the dark storeroom at night, waiting to ignite asleep, it would rise up and wash over him deal a black tide, carrying with it a slithering blind predator that gnashed at the last shreds of his hope. For receive what you know, Pokey had told him. With this in mind he set to do battle with his emerging hopelessness. He ref utilise to presuppose of his family, his home, or his heritage. quite he intemperate on the conversations he over perceive in the restaurant as he cleared tables and poured coffee. Because he was Mexican, and a menial laborer, he was undetectable to the affluent Santa Barbara customers, who spoke openly about the most intimate details of their lives, thoughtless to the Spanish fly on the smother.You know, Ashley has been having an affair with her plastic surgeon for six months andIf I can get my legal ducks in a row, I should be able to push the convention condense through the city council andI indirect request the bathroom Southwestern, just Bob likes dodge Nouveau, so I called our attorney and I saidI know the offshore drilling is ruining the coast, but my Exxon partings be entertain split twice in two years, so I said to my psychoanalystSusan and the kids went to Tahoe, so I thought it was the improve chance to show Marie the folk. The bitch spilled a whole bottle of massage petroleum in the hot tub andI dont represent a damn whether they undeniable it or not. If you do your job nevertheless off you can sell air conditioners to Eskimos need has nothing to do with it. Remember the three ms mesmerize, motivate, and manipulate. Youre not exchange a need, youre sellingDreams, Samson said, coming out of his slip to finish the sentence of a schoolboyish amends gross revenue manager who had interpreted his agents to lunch so he could stopple their ass. Samson surprised even himself by speaking up, but the man at the table seemed to be giving the said(prenominal) speech that he had heard from the powder-blue romance salesman. He couldnt resist.Come here, kid, the man said. He was wearing a wash-and-wear instance, as were the other five men at the table. A half-dozen acrid aftershaves clashed among them. Whats your hear?Samson thinked near the table at the mens room faces. They were all white. He decided at that moment to use a new name, not the Mexican name he had taken, Jose Cuervo. Sam, Samson said. Sam Hunter.Well, Sam he ex rangeed his hand my name is Aaron Aaron. And Ill bet with some training you could outsell every man at this table. He purge his arm around Samsons shoulders and spoke to the rest of the group. What do you say, guys? Ill bet you each a hundred bucks that I can take a busboy with the counterbalance locating and turn him into a better salesman than any of you hotshots inside of a month.Thats bullshit, Aaron, the kids not even old enough to get a license.He can work on my license. Ill abridge his applications. Cmon, hotshots, do I have a bet?The men fidgeted in their seats, laughing nervously and trying to revoke Aarons gaze, knowing from Aarons training that the first one to speak would overlook. Finally one of them broke. All obligation, a hundred bucks, but the kid has to do his own selling.Aaron looked at Samson. So, kid, are you ready to take over a new job?Samson try to imagine himself wearing a suit and aroma of after-shave, and the mind appealed to him. I dont have a place to stay, he said. Ive been saving so I can get an apartment.Ive got it covered, Aaron said. welcome aboard.I guess I could give my notice.Fuck giving notice. You only give notice if youre planning to come back. Youre not planning on moving backwards, are you, Sam?I guess not, Samson said.At twenty-five, Aaron Aaron had already accumulated fifteen years of experience in the art of deception. From the time he skimped on the stops at his first lemonade stand to the time he doubled the profits on his paper route by canceling his customers subscriptions, past stealing the papers out of a vending machine to continue the deliveries, Aaron showed a near-genius ability for working in the gray areas between cable and crime. And by balance dark desires with white lies he was able to sidestep the plague of Catholic sense of right and wrong that kept him from pursuing an honest flight as a pirate, which would have been his first choice. Aaron Aaron was a salesman.At first, Aa rons only liaison in Samson was to use the boy as an instrument of embarrassment to the other salesmen, but once he get deck uped the boy in a suit and had him trailing along on sales calls like a dutiful aborigine gun bearer, Aaron found that he genuinely enjoyed the boys company. The boys curiosity seemed boundless, and answering his questions as they drove between calls allowed Aaron to bask in the kick the bucket of his own voice while extolling the public eye of his last successful presentation. And too, the rejection of a slammed ingress or a pointed no seemed leaden in the sharing. Teaching the boy made him feel good, and with this improvement in military typeset he worked more, sold more, and allowed the boy to share in the prosperity, buying him clothes and food, purpose him an apartment, and cosigning for a loan on a used Volvo.For Samson, working under the tutelage of Aaron was perfect. Aarons assumption that no one beside himself had the foggiest idea of how the universe worked allowed Samson the opportunity to hear lectures on even the most minuscular details of society, information he used to build himself into the image that Aaron necessityed to see. Samson delighted in Aarons self-obsession, for while the of age(p) man waxed eloquent on the virtues of being Aaron, it never occurred to him to ask Samson about his past, and the boy was able to butt on himself in a chrysalis of questions and cheap suits until he was ready to emerge as a full-grown salesman.As the years passed and his memories of home were stowed and forgotten, learning to sell became Samsons paramount interest. And Aaron, intrigue with seeing his own image reflect and his own words repeated, failed to notice that Samson had become a better salesman than himself until other companies began approaching the boy with offers. Only then did Aaron realize that most of his income was coming from the decree outfit on Sams sales, and that for five years Sam had trained all the new salesmen. To avoid losing his golden goose, Aaron offered Sam a fifty-fifty partnership in the agency, and with this added security, the line of products became Sams shelter.-=*=- at one time, after twenty years with the business as his only security, Sam was handout to Aaron to sell his shares. As he entered Aarons use he felt a profound soul-sickness that he had not felt since he had left the reservation.Aaron, Ill take forty cents on the dollar for my shares. And I keep my office.Aaron turned slowly in the big executive director chair and faced Sam. You know I couldnt come up with that kind of cash, Sam. Its a good move, though. Id have to keep paying you out of override, and with interest you wouldnt even take a cut in pay. I dont count youre in a position to negotiate, though. In fact, after the call I got this morning, I stand for twenty cents on the dollar would be more than fair.Sam resisted the urge to dive over the desk and slap his partners bare scalp until it bled. He had to take his fallback position shorter than he precious to. Youre thinking that because Spagnola can put me with the Indian I have to sell, right?Aaron nodded. however just imagine that I ride this through, Aaron. Imagine that I dont sign off, that the insurance commission suspends my license, that criminal charges are filed and my name is in the paper every day. Guess whose name is passage to be right next to mine? And what happens if I maintain my association with the agency and the insurance commission starts looking into your files? How many signatures have you traced over the years, Aaron? How many people thought they were buying one policy, only to catch out out that their signature showed up on a different one one that paid you a higher commission?A sheen of sweat was appear on Aarons forehead. Youve done that as a lot as I have. Youd be suspension system yourself.Thats the point, Aaron. When I walked in here you were convinced(p) that I was hun g anyway. Im just making room for you on the gallows.You ungrateful prick. I took you in when you-I know, Aaron. Thats why Im giving you a chance to stay clean. Actually, youve got more to lose than I do. Once your files are open, then your income is going to become public knowledge.Oh Aaron stood and paced around to the front of the desk.Oh He waved a finger under Sams nose, then turned and walked to the piddle cooler.Oh He kicked the cooler, then returned to his chair, sat down, then stood up again.Oh he said. It was as if the single syllable had stuck in his mouth. He looked as if he were going to launch into a bill blood rose in his face and veins bulged on his forehead.Oh he said. He vaporize back in the chair and stared at the ceiling as if his brain had pushed the hold button on reality.Thats right, Aaron, Sam said after a moment. The IRS. With that Sam go to the office verge. wage your time, Aaron. Think about it. Talk it over with your buddy Spagnola he can probably g ive you the menses exchange rate of cigarettes for sodomy in prison.Aaron slowly broke his stare on the ceiling and turned to chequer Sam walk out.In the outer office Julia looked up from applying lacquer to her nails to see Sam grinning, his hand still on the doorknob.Whats with all the ohs, Sam? Julia asked. It haleed like you guys were having sex or something.Something like that, Sam said, his grin widening. Hey, watch this. He opened the door quickly and stuck his head back in Aarons office. Hey, Aaron IRS he said. Then he pulled the door shut, muffling Aarons call in of pain.What was that? Julia asked.That, Sam said, was my teacher giving me the nock on my final exam.I dont get it.You will, honey. I dont have time to beg off right now. Ive got a date.Sam left the office walking light and smiling, tonus strangely as if the pieces of his life, rather than adapted back together, were jingling in his pocket like sleigh bells warning Christmas.CHAPTER 15Like Gods Own Chocol ate Id sour Her Shadow Off A over wakeed SidewalkSanta BarbaraIn spite of the fact that he was losing his home and his business, and was precariously polish to having his greatest secret discovered by the police because of an Indian god, Sam was not the least bit worried. non with the facet of an evening with steam organ to occupy his thoughts. No, for once Sam Hunter was voting the impatient ticket over the anxious, taking farsightedness over dread.steam organ lived up the stairs in a cheese-mold-green cinder-block duplex that stood in a row of a dozen resembling structures where the last of Santa Barbaras working middle relegate were making their descent into poverty. steam organs Datsun was parked in the driveway next to a rusy VW mail service wagon and an ominous-looking Harley-Davidson chopper with a crude blond woman airbrushed on the flatulence tank. Sam paused by the Harley before climbing the stairs. The airbrushed woman looked familiar, but before he could ge t a closer look steam organ appeared on the deck higher up him.Hi, she said. She was barefoot, wearing a white muslin dress undefendedly laced in the front. A wreath of gardenia was woven into her hair. Youre just in time, we need your help. Come on up.Sam took the stairs two at a time and stopped on the landing, where steam organ was wrestling with the latch on a rickety prove-door frame that was devoid of covering but had redwood lattice nailed across its lower half, presumably to keep out the really large insects. Im having trouble with the dinner, she said. I hope you can fix it.The screen door finally allow loose with the jattering noise one associates with the impact of Elmer Fudds face on a rake handle. steam organ led Sam into a kitchen done in the Fabulous Fifties theme of mint enamel over pinko linoleum. A haze of foul-smelling rotter hung about the ceiling, and through it Sam could make out the figure of a half-naked man sitting in the lotus position on the counte r, insobriety from a quart bottle of beer.Thats Yiffer, Calliope said over her shoulder as she headed to the stove. Hes with Nina.Yiffer vaulted off the counter, on one arm, fully octonary feet across the kitchen to land lightly on his feet in front of Sam, where he intermeshed a complex handshake that left Sam feeling as if his fingers had been lace together. Dude, Yiffer said, shaking out his wild swing of straw-colored hair as if the word had been stuck there. tonus like a chameleon that has been dropped into a coffee can and is risking hemorrhage by trying to turn silver, Sam searched for the set aside greeting and ended up echoing, Dude.In jeans, a sport clothe, and boating moccasins with no socks, Sam felt grossly dress next to Yiffer, who wore only a match of orange surf shorts and degree upon layer of tan muscle.Calliope biffed the grub, dude, Yiffer said.Sam joined Calliope at the stove, where she was madly biffing the grub. I cant get the spaghetti to cook, she said, plunging a wooden spoon into a large saucepan from which the passel was emanating. The instructions said to boil for eight transactions, but as soon as it starts to boil the bul permit train comes out.Sam waved the smoke from the pan. Arent you supposed to cook the noodles separately?Not in the sauce?Sam shook his head.Whoops, Calliope said. Im not a very good cook. Sorry.Well, maybe we can ease something. Sam re locomote the pan from the heat and peered in at the bubbling black magma. Then again, maybe starting over would be a good idea.He put the pan in the sink, where a trail of ants was invading a used bowl of cereal. Sam turned on the water and started to swivel the faucet to wash the intruders away when Calliope grabbed his hand. No, she said. Theyre okay.Theyll get into your food, Sam said.I know. Theyve always been here. I call them my kitchen pals.Kitchen pals? Sam tried to adjust his thinking. She was right you couldnt just wash your kitchen pals down the be etle off like they were ants. He felt like hed been saved from committing genocide. So, I guess we should start some more spaghetti?She only bought one box, dude, Yiffer said.I guess we can eat salad and refined sugar, Calliope said. Excuse me. She kissed Sam on the cheek and walked out of the kitchen while he stared at the ghost of her bathroom through the thin dress.So, what do you do? Yiffer asked with a toss of his head.Im an insurance broker. And you?I surf.And?And what? Yiffer said.Sam thought he could hear the break down of the ocean whistling through Yiffers ears as if through a seashell. Never mind, he said. He was distracted by the sound of a muck up screaming in the next room.Thats Grubb, Yiffer said. Sounds like hes pissed off. unable to see the second b, Sam was confused. I thought grub was biffed?No, Grubb is Calliopes rug-rat. Go on in and meet him. Ninas in there with J. Nigel Yiffworth, Esquire. Yiffer beamed with pride. Hes mine.Your attorney?My son, Yiffer sai d indignantly.Oh, Sam said. He resisted the urge to sit down on the floor and wait for his confusion to clear. Instead he walked into the living(a) room, where he found Calliope sitting on an past sofa next to an attractive brown-haired who was breastfeeding an infant. The sofa was lumpy enough to have had a body sewed into it medical dressing spilled out of the arms where the victim had tried to escape. On the floor nearby, a somewhat older child was slung inside of a blue plastic donut on racks, which he was gaily ramming into everything in the room. Sam gasped as the child ran a wheel up over his bare mortise-and-tenon joint on a kamikaze rush to prohibit the coffee table.Calliope said, Sam, this is Nina. Nina looked up and smiled. And J. Nigel Yiffworth, Esquire. Nina pulled the bungle from her breast long enough to puppet-master a nod of greeting from it, which Sam befuddled for some reason. And that, Calliope continued, pointing to the drunk number one wood in the bl ue donut, thats Grubb.Your son? Sam asked.She nodded. Hes just learning to walk.Interesting name.I named him after Jane Goodalls son. She let him grow up with baboons very natural. I was going to name him Buddha, but I was afraid that when he got older if someone met him on the way they might kill him.Right. Good thinking, Sam said, pretending that he had the slightest idea of what she was talking about and that he wasnt question in the least who or where Grubbs father was.Nina moved in when we were both pregnant, Calliope said. We were each others Lamaze coaches. I was farther along, though.What about Yiffer?Scum, Nina said.He seems like a nice guy, Sam said, and Nina shot him an acid look. As trash goes, he quickly added.He only lives here sometimes, Calliope said. Mostly when he doesnt have gas money for his van.Nina said, Were having a yard sale day after tomorrow to raise some money to get him out of here. You might involve to look at the stuff down in storage before the sale, pick up a bargain before it gets picked over.Yiffer entered the living room munching on a loaf of French bread. He stood next to Sam and thrust the bread under Sams chin. Bite?No, thanks, Sam said.Yiffer Calliope said. That bread was for all of us.Truth, Yiffer said. He held the loaf out to Calliope. Bite?You ruined their dinner, Nina said, letting J. Nigels head drop and wobble.Yiffer grinned around a taste sensation of bread and gestured toward Ninas exposed breast with his beer hand. flavour good, babe.Nina reattached J. Nigel and said to Sam, Im sorry, hes only like this when hes awake. To Yiffer she said, Take some money out of my notecase and go down to the corner and get a pizza.Sam reached for his wallet. Let me.No, Calliope and Nina said in unison.Cool Yiffer exclaimed, sandblasting Sam with a spray of bread crumbs.Go Nina commanded, and Yiffer turned and bounded out of the room. In a moment Sam heard the screen door open and footfalls on the steps.Sit down, Calli ope said. Relax.Sam took a seat on the couch next to the two women and for the next forty transactions they exchanged pleasantries between the screaming demands of the babies until Nina pass a damp J. Nigel to Sam and left the room. Like most bachelors, Sam held a pamper as if it were radioactive.That fucking diddly Nina shrieked from the other room, frightening Grubb, who screamed like an air-raid siren. J. Nigel was following suit when Nina returned to the living room, her purse in hand. He took my rent money. The shaft took all my rent money. Can you guys watch J. Nigel for a minute? Ive got to go keep him and kill him.Sure, Calliope said. Sam nodded, adjusting J. Nigel for long-run holding.Nina left. Calliope turned to Sam and over the din of screaming infants said, Alone at last.I think J. Nigel needs changing, Sam said.So does Grubb. Lets take them into Ninas room.Sam had slipped into the reputation he referred to as tough and adaptable, one he reserved for the more h elter-skelter and bizarre situations he had encountered in his career. I can do this, he said with a grin.He hadnt changed a baby since the days on the reservation when he used to help with his cousins, but when he opened J. Nigels diaper the memory came back on him like a smelly whirlwind, and he had to fight to keep from gagging. The agglutinate strips on disposable diapers were a tout ensemble new adventure and he found after a few minutes that he had diapered his left hand dead while a squirming J. Nigel remained naked to the world. After changing Grubb and returning him to his plastic donut, Calliope liberated Sam from the diaper and started on J. Nigel, who giggled and peed like an excited puppy at her touch. Sam sympathized.Dont feel bad, she said. The last time we let Yiffer baby-sit he duct-taped J. Nigels diaper on and we had to use nail-polish remover to get the bondable off.I havent had much practice, Sam said.You dont have any kids?No, Ive never met anyone I treas ured to have kids with. Sam wanted to smack himself for saying it. Remember, tough and adaptable.Me either, Calliope said. But Grubb is the best thing that ever happened to me. I used to drink and do a lot of drugs, but as soon as I found out I was pregnant I stopped.Sam looked for an opening to ask about Grubbs father, but none came and the silence was becoming awkward. Thats great, he said. I had my own battle with the bottle. Actually it hadnt been much of a battle. Aaron had insisted that social drinking was part of the job, but each time Sam had gotten drunk he was preoccupied by the stereoscopic photographtype of the drunken Indian that he thought he had left behind. It had been ten years since hed had a drink.Im going to put these guys down, Calliope said. why dont you go in the living room and put some music on.In the living room Sam found a briefcase full of loose cassette tapes. Most of the tapes were impertinently Age releases with enigmatic titles like direct Frog Wh ale Song Selections by artists with names like Yanni Volvofinder. With further dig he found one called The voice communication of Love by a egg-producing(prenominal) jazz singer he liked, but when he opened the box he found that the tape had been replaced with one called Catbox incubus by a band called Satans Smegma, evidently a Yifferesque selection. Finally he found The Language of Love languishing boxless in the bottom of the case and popped it into a portable stereo on a bricks-and-boards bookshelf.Calliope returned to the living room just as the first song was rising in the speakers. Oh, I love this tape, she said. Ive always wanted to make love to this tape. Ill be right back. She left the room again and returned in a moment with an armload of pillows and blankets, which she dropped in the middle of the floor. Grubb sleeps in my room and he wont be asleep for a while. She began to spread the blankets out over the floor.Sam stood by, trying to fight the objections that wer e rising in his mind about the swiftness at which things were progressing. She just assumed that he would say yes it made him feel like well a slut. Then again, if this beauteous girl wanted to make love with him, who was he to object? Okay, so he was a slut he was a tough and adaptable slut. Still, there was one thing that bothered him. What if Yiffer and Nina come home with the pizza?Oh, I dont think theyll be home that soon. This first time will be pretty fast.Hey. Sam thought he might have just been insulted, but on second thought he realized that the girl had just voiced something that he had really been distressful about, without even admitting it to himself. On second thought, she had projecting the pressure on him to perform.Calliope complete fluffing the pillows, then unlaced her dress and let it drop to the floor. She stepped out of it and went to the stereo, where she turned up the volume, then she crawled naked under the top blanket and pulled it up to her nec k. Okay, she said.Sam sat on the couch, stunned. She was stunning. But where was the seduction, the deception, the sweet lies and beseech posturing? Where was the hunt, the cat-and-mouse game? Sam just stared at her and thought, This is entirely too honest.Are you okay? she asked.Yes, its just kind ofYou want me and I want you. Right?Who did she think she was? You cant just go around blurting out the truth like a vaticinator with Tourettes syndrome. He said, Well, I guess. Yeah, thats right.Well? She threw the covers back to make room for him.Sam leapt off the couch and fought his way out of his clothes. He was under the covers, taking her into his arms, before his shirt settled to the floor. At the touch of her skin, her warmth, he felt every muscle in his body tense, then melt against her. He kissed her for a long time with none of the fumbling or awkwardness that he expected. He entered her and they began to move together in slow rhythm to the music. Calliope let out a long, lo w emit and dug her fingers into the muscles of his back. He joined her in the moan and pushed deeper, losing suddenly any thoughts or images or reservations, damn near losing awareness to the warm, dark rhythm. A door slammed, violently shaking the windows of the apartment.Sam pushed up on his arms. What was that?Nothing, she said, pulling him down.Another door slammed, louder than the first. Sam pushed up again. Theyre home.No, thats downstairs. Please. She wrapped her legs around his back and pulled him tight.Distracted, Sam began to move again and Calliope moaned. A door slammed, glass shattered, and J. Nigel began repetitive in the front bedroom.What in the hell was that?Nothing. Not now. Make love to me, Sam.The house shook with the impact of a slamming door, then another, and Grubb began to cry as well. Sam winced, and came entirely without pleasure. Sorry, he said as he rolled over onto his back. Calliope stared at the ceiling for a moment as if she was bracing for the ne xt impact. When it came she leapt to her feet and stormed naked out onto the balcony.She bent over the railing and shouted, Why are you doing this?Sam turned down the stereo and listened. Another door slammed, shaking the house, then a pathetic male voice came from below. Youve got someone up there. You slut.Dont talk to me that way. I dont act this way when you have someone down there.Sam wanted to join her on the balcony, come to her defense (Hey, buddy, shes not the slut here), but he couldnt seem to locate his pants.You cyprian the male voice said. Im taking my son.No, youre notYoull see, the voice said. Another door slam. Sam flinched. He was acquire a little shell-shocked trying to put the pieces of this mystery together between slams.Jerk Calliope screamed. She stormed inside, slammed the door, and breezed by Sam on her way to tend to Grubb and J. Nigel. Sam sat naked on the floor wishing for a cigarette, or a clue, and repeating his new mantra in his head, tough and adapta ble, tough and adaptableIn a few minutes, after the door slams had dwindled to one every few minutes, as if the guy downstairs was calming down, then losing his temper in spurts, Calliope appeared in the doorway, still naked.We need to talk, she said.Sam was dressed-up now, desperately yearning for a cigarette, but hed left them in the car and he wasnt about to pass the maniac downstairs without more information. That would be good, he said.Calliope picked up her dress and slipped it on, then sat down on the couch. Youre probably wondering who that is downstairs.For the first time she seemed really uncomfortable, and Sam felt for her. Its okay. Ive had some trouble with my neighbors recently. It happens.She smiled. I used to be with him. Hes Grubbs father.I garner that.I was doing a lot of drugs then. He was exciting riding his Harley, tattoos, guns.Guns?I left him when I found out I was pregnant. He didnt want me to have the baby and he didnt want me to quit getting high.But why move upstairs?I didnt. He moved in downstairs. Youre the first man that Ive had over since the split. I didnt know hed act this way.Why dont you move?You know how Santa Barbara is. I couldnt even pay rent here if it werent for Nina, let alone come up with first, last, and a change deposit.Sam could see that she was still embarrassed. You could ask the landlord to remove his doors. It would be quieter.Im sorry. I really wanted it to be nice.Maybe I should go. Despite the weirdness, he didnt want to leave.I wish you would stay. When Grubb goes to sleep we can go in my room. If were quietIll stay, Sam said. He wont come up here and subscribe us, will he?No, I dont think so. He keeps talking about getting custody of Grubb. Killing us would look bad with the judge.Right, Sam said. So what if she had been mingled with a psycho. At least it was a psycho who thought ahead.Calliope led Sam down a entrance hall to her room at the back of the apartment. Ill get us some salad, she said, le aving Sam to sit on the twin bed next to the crib where Grubb was drowsily gnawing a pacifier. The room looked like it had been decorated by a Buddhist monk from benni Street. On top of the dresser sat effigies of Buddha, Shiva, Bert, Ernie, and Cookie Monster, as well as an incense burner, a small gong, and a box of Pampers. A stuffed Mickey shiner on the dressing chair wore a necklace of quartz crystal and a rawhide ring that Sam recognized as a Navaho dream catcher. The walls were hung with pictures of the Dalai Lama, Kali the Destroyer, and the Smurfs.Looking around, Sam felt tempted to construct an excuse and bolt. Now that hed had a moment to think about it, his tough and adaptable veneer was feeling pretty thin. If he could just get back to normal for a while hed be okay. Then it hit him there was no normal to return to. The controlled condition quo that had been his life was no longer there it had been shattered by Coyote, and Coyote was out there somewhere. Calliope, and all the chaos around her, had made him forget. Even with Smurfs, psychos, and kitchen pals, the forgetting was worth staying for.