Read Online One Foot Off the Gutter by Peter Plate - Free Book Online Page A

and they started running up Fifteenth Street away from the health food store. He slid his hand over her palm, tightened his fingers around her wrist, and dragged her after him.
    Tears were flying out of her eyes. To hell with everyone. She had never been given anything she could call her own. The odds were set against her; precious numbers that flew away from her. She’d spent her entire life trying to catch up with them.
    They ran down the sidewalk towards Minna Street, coming upon two teenagers, a girl and a boy unlocking their bicycles at the corner. Barbie jumped on the boy and jammed the gun into his ribs, and screeched at him.
    â€œJust give me the rotten bicycle and you won’t get hurt!”
    The boy looked at Free Box, then he glanced at his girlfriend. She was standing by her bicycle with her mouth hanging wide open. He twisted his head to catch a glimpse of Barbie. Her eyes were riveted on his mouth. Shiny, hard eyes that resembled black bone buttons. The gun in her hand was empty, but he didn’t know that. All he saw was the passage of his own death in her eyes.
    â€œPlease, take them both,” he begged.

    That night Free Box and Barbie lay side by side naked on top of the bed. The air was warm and the window was open. The bleat of the foghorn in the bay went off.
    The money was spread over the mattress; one thousand, two hundred and forty-three dollars. Barbie had covered herself in a pile of the stuff. She’d blanketed herself in five and ten dollar bills. The money gave off several strange odors. New bills smelled like plastic and metal while the older bills smelled like dirty clothes. She lay on her side with twenty dollar bills falling off her breasts and shoulders.
    â€œHow do I look?” she asked him.
    He was silent for a moment. She snuggled up against him. Several twenty dollar bills fell against his face. He brushed them away as she got on top of him. The money crackled under her knees. Free Box shut his eyes and ran the fingers of one hand through her hair. He closed the other hand over a ten dollar bill and crumpled the note into a ball.
    â€œYou look like the end of the road to me,” he said.
    Â 
    There were women who were never meant to become mothers. There were buildings that were never intended to become homes. But all buildings ached for the people who struggled within their walls. Buildings were silent in their condemnation. With their own subtle methods, they made their disapproval known.
    Some buildings would never fall apart. Their fire escapes would never go bald from loss of steel. Other buildings would lose everything. A phony stucco
ranchette; that was an easy fate. Stucco houses were built in a day and sometimes, they died as quickly. All buildings feared destruction. All houses had secrets that grew from a knowledge about death.
    â€œI can’t think of a better place to make love,” Free Box said. It’s like having sex on a deserted island. An abandoned building. A faraway island. What’s the difference? The police are searching for us. But no one knows where we are.”
    The money was laying on the blankets, the pillows and the floor. A breeze was blowing through the ragged curtains. Barbie trailed a hand down between Free Box’s legs. She took his penis in one hand, then brought the other hand to her mouth. She wet her fingertips with a glob of saliva, then dabbed them across the head of his cock.
    â€œThe woman,” she said. “Tell me about the woman on the desert island.”
    â€œShe wants to get off the island.”
    â€œThat’s not true. Try again.”
    â€œShe wants to stay on the island and discover true love.”
    â€œCan you tell me what that is?”
    Her fingers were running up and down his cock. She was moving her hand faster now, almost riding him with her palm.
    â€œDon’t be reluctant now. Say it,” she coaxed.
    There was ozone in the air, burning his nostrils, causing them