Page 10 of Morena
“Hold still,” she said. Her tone was clipped.
Then the liquid hit my wound. It burned so fiercely I hissed.
12“Aguántalo como un hombre, chico.”She dabbed at the cut with a cotton ball, her lips almost smiling.
It did not take her long to stitch me up, though every pull of the needle felt like a hook dragging under my skin. Blood-soaked cotton balls were piled on the table. Her fingers pressed hard against my scalp, pulsing pain through my temples until my vision blurred.
When she finished, she tilted my head back again, her green eyes gleaming.
“You need to lie down.”
She gestured toward the sofa beside the old woman, who had not moved once, not even to blink.
I obeyed, too weak to argue.
The sofa sagged beneath me, soft after nights on hard benches. My eyes slid shut, but unease lingered. Even as sleep tugged at me, I could still feel the old woman’s silence filling the room.
1. Thank you.
2. Motherfucker.
3. God.
4. What a shame/ too bad.
5. Damned.
6. Lost boy, if you want me back, say my name two more times.
7. Oh, sad eyes, if you fear losing you vision, pronounce my name once more.
8. My God.
9. Please.
10. Wait, fucker.
11. Spanish dish.
12. Hold it in like a man, boy.
III.
Isawheragain.This time, from across the dance floor of the club.
The night smelled of sweat and cigarette smoke, the kind of air that stuck to your skin. She was dancing with the music, her hips moving slowly toGirls Just Wanna Have Fun. Neon strobes flickered over her. She wore high-waisted Levi’s that hugged her curves and a white blouse with tiny daisies stitched into the collar. A thin sheen of sweat glossed her forehead, catching the light of the silver disco ball, but she looked so happy, laughing with every spin, every toss of her hair.
Her lips mouthed the words of the songs. Hoops swayed at her ears with each dance move she took. For a moment, she wasn’t human at all. She was like life itself.
Then her eyes caught mine. Or maybe I only wanted them to.
She pointed in my direction. The disco ball above us spun too fast, scattering fragments of color across her body like shards of a mirror.
“Hola,1guapo,“ she said, weaving through the crowd, voice low but sweet. “What are you doing here?”
“I can’t get you out of my mind, Morena.” My whisper trembled as I leaned closer.
She grinned, still dancing. “Then I guess you’ll have to sleep forever,guapo.”
