Read Online Shadow Man: A Novel by Jeffrey Fleishman - Free Book Online Page B

Kurt’s cutoffs hung damp and heavy at his waist. He grabbed Vera, threw her on his shoulders, and twirled her toward the waves. She screamed and laughed and told Kurt he had better put her down, but he kept twirling, getting dizzy, losing his knees, wobbling as the water rushed up on him and then he tumbled into a big wave with Vera, and for a moment they were gone, and then Vera popped up and then Kurt. She walked over and pushed him back into the water and another wave came and knocked them both into the shore and they popped up again, beaten and tired and Vera grabbed Kurt and held him and jumped up in his arms and he carried her out of the waves, and she seemed small, thin, her black hair matted in strands, as if the waves had washed some of her away. We walked under the pier and toward our car. Kurt carried Vera the entire way. She tried to teach us a few words of Arabic, the throaty, clipped syllables made the night exotic. Inshallah — God willing. Allahu Akbar — God is great. Hasbyallah wa ne’malwakil — I complain to God, He is my best resort. God is in the language, Vera said; he lives in Arabic more than he does in English.
    “A different God,” said Kurt.
    “Same God, different name,” said Vera. “He’s a desert god, ruler of a harsh place.”
    Kurt opened the Impala’s trunk and tossed us towels. We drove to a hotel and the girl at the counter — she looked no older than me — said, “Do y’all need a room?” Y’all was so much softer than Vera’s Arabic; it was a word that didn’t come at you so much as rolled over and through you. The girl pinged a silver bell on the counter and a little, bent man appeared and grabbed our two suitcases. He walkedtoward the elevator, his right foot splayed as if unhinged, and the girl whispered to us, “He’s my uncle. He ain’t right in the head if you know what I mean. But Daddy’s gotta take care of him. Kin is kin, after all. But he’s good for carrying things and he’ll show you to your rooms.”
    The elevator opened on the fifth floor and you could faintly hear the Beach Boys, tinny, every note false, from the transistor in the lobby. Kurt and Vera took 501 and the bent man led me to 503. Vera came in and gave the man two quarters and he handed me the key and disappeared. Vera kissed me on the cheek and ran off to 501. My room’s balcony overlooked the ocean. It was night. The sand was gray from up here and the ocean black. Lights glowed on the faraway horizon, floating in the air, unattached, like spirits, but I knew they were the lights of freighters and trawlers that sailed beyond. A man leaned over the boardwalk railing nearest the hotel. He looked out to sea and then turned and looked at the hotel, up its floors as if he were staring right at me, and then looked away again to the sea. I went inside and closed the curtains.
    The phone rang. “How y’all doing? Rooms okay? Can I gitcha anything?” I said thank you and no. I took a shower, the warm water tasted like salt. I dressed and watched TV. A knock on the door.
    “Hey, I came to check on you. Need towels. Soap?” said the girl from the desk.
    “No. Well, maybe an extra towel if you have any.”
    She laughed. “You wanna make out? I’m a good kisser. But only kissing. Some of you boys want more but I only kiss.”
    She was blond and wore white shorts and a forest-green halter top. She stepped in and wrapped her arms around me and started kissing me; her lips were shiny and smelled of cinnamon. She pressed hard and her teeth clinked my teeth but then she eased and kissed some more and it was strange and nice, and I don’t know why, but I closed my eyes and kissed her back and we fell on the bed and she landed on top of me. She had a short, hard tongue, and she was lightupon me. She sat up and straightened her hair. “I better git down to the desk. My uncle’s down there; he gets confused after a while. Maybe I’ll come back later and we’ll kiss some more. But only kissing.