Read Online The Uncomfortable Dead by Paco Ignacio Taibo II, Subcomandante Marcos - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Paco Ignacio Taibo II, Subcomandante Marcos
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eyes.
How I’d like to be your blouse to be close to you always,
to brush up against your breasts and circle your waist,
the two for being so firm and the other for being so yielding.
Well, El Sup was not in the office but over by the side of the barracks. He was with Comandante Tacho, in a shack with walls but no roof and a half-built frame. We said hello and they said it back.
“Lookit here, Elías,” El Sup said, “we have this argument going with Tacho. We’re building this sanitation shack and he says it has to have a cross bar or something like this,” and El Sup waved his arm at the roof that wasn’t a roof yet, just a bunch of sticks.
Then El Sup pulled out his pipe, lit it, and went on: “So then I ask Tacho why it has to have that cross bar. I mean, whether it’s something scientific or something that has to do with customs and mores, cause if it’s something scientific, then there’s a reason to put up the cross bar, so I ask him what the reason is and he answers that he doesn’t know, that this is the way they taught him and otherwise the whole thing would cave in.”
By that time, Comandante Tacho was doubled over. And Major Moses joined in the laughter. You could tell they’d had the argument a lot of times.
El Sup went on talking as he climbed up the roof frame. “I’m gonna apply the scientific method to see whether the cross bar has to go here or not. I am going to proceed by trial and error, which means that you do it one way and if it doesn’t work, it’s wrong, and if it does work, then it’s right. So if I climb up onto this beam and the frame caves in, it means that it isn’t going to hold the weight of the roof on its own.”
El Sup was already up and straddling the beam like it was a horse, and while he tried to keep his balance, he asked me, “So, Elías, what do you think? Is it scientific or is it customs and mores?”
Bout then I got out from under the beam, and barely got out: “It’s on account of customs—” And there was a crack and the beam broke and El Sup was flat on his back and I finished, “—and mores.”
Comandante Tacho was bent over with laughter. Major Moses couldn’t hardly talk he was laughing so hard. Captain Aurora came running up to El Sup and asked, a little concerned, “Did you fall, Comrade Subcomandante?”
“No, this was just a dry run to see how long it would take the Zapatista sanitation services to arrive at the scene of an accident,” El Sup said, still flat on his back, and the captain walked away laughing.
And El Sup was still there, looking for his pipe and lighter, when another insurgent woman arrived.
“Comrade Insurgent Subcomandante Marcos!” she barked, snapping to attention and saluting.
“Insurgent Comrade Erika,” answered El Sup, saluting back from the ground.
“Comrade Subcomandante, may I speak …?” Erika said, twisting a paliacate in her hands.
“You may speak, Comrade Erika,” El Sup answered, as he pulled over a piece of the broken beam to use as a pillow and lit up his pipe.
“It’s just that I don’t know what you’re going to say, but Captain Noah keeps hitting me,” Erika said.
El Sup inhaled the pipe smoke, coughed, and asked, “He whaaaat?”
“He keeps hitting me, you know, he does this with his eye,” Erika said, winking.
“Well, now,” El Sup said, breathing a little bit easier, “you don’t mean hitting you, like beating you, but hitting on you, like flirting, right? So do you want me to reprimand him?”
“It’s not that,” Erika explained, “it’s that I don’t know if it’s allowed, cause if it’s allowed, well, that’s fine then, but if it ain’t allowed, well, then first he should see if it can be allowed and then he can hit me all he wants.”
“Hit ON you, Erika, hit ON you,” El Sup drilled.
“That’s it, whatever,” she said.
“Very well. I’m going to look into that and I’ll let you know,” El Sup replied, still lying on the ground
How I’d like to be your blouse to be close to you always,
to brush up against your breasts and circle your waist,
the two for being so firm and the other for being so yielding.
Well, El Sup was not in the office but over by the side of the barracks. He was with Comandante Tacho, in a shack with walls but no roof and a half-built frame. We said hello and they said it back.
“Lookit here, Elías,” El Sup said, “we have this argument going with Tacho. We’re building this sanitation shack and he says it has to have a cross bar or something like this,” and El Sup waved his arm at the roof that wasn’t a roof yet, just a bunch of sticks.
Then El Sup pulled out his pipe, lit it, and went on: “So then I ask Tacho why it has to have that cross bar. I mean, whether it’s something scientific or something that has to do with customs and mores, cause if it’s something scientific, then there’s a reason to put up the cross bar, so I ask him what the reason is and he answers that he doesn’t know, that this is the way they taught him and otherwise the whole thing would cave in.”
By that time, Comandante Tacho was doubled over. And Major Moses joined in the laughter. You could tell they’d had the argument a lot of times.
El Sup went on talking as he climbed up the roof frame. “I’m gonna apply the scientific method to see whether the cross bar has to go here or not. I am going to proceed by trial and error, which means that you do it one way and if it doesn’t work, it’s wrong, and if it does work, then it’s right. So if I climb up onto this beam and the frame caves in, it means that it isn’t going to hold the weight of the roof on its own.”
El Sup was already up and straddling the beam like it was a horse, and while he tried to keep his balance, he asked me, “So, Elías, what do you think? Is it scientific or is it customs and mores?”
Bout then I got out from under the beam, and barely got out: “It’s on account of customs—” And there was a crack and the beam broke and El Sup was flat on his back and I finished, “—and mores.”
Comandante Tacho was bent over with laughter. Major Moses couldn’t hardly talk he was laughing so hard. Captain Aurora came running up to El Sup and asked, a little concerned, “Did you fall, Comrade Subcomandante?”
“No, this was just a dry run to see how long it would take the Zapatista sanitation services to arrive at the scene of an accident,” El Sup said, still flat on his back, and the captain walked away laughing.
And El Sup was still there, looking for his pipe and lighter, when another insurgent woman arrived.
“Comrade Insurgent Subcomandante Marcos!” she barked, snapping to attention and saluting.
“Insurgent Comrade Erika,” answered El Sup, saluting back from the ground.
“Comrade Subcomandante, may I speak …?” Erika said, twisting a paliacate in her hands.
“You may speak, Comrade Erika,” El Sup answered, as he pulled over a piece of the broken beam to use as a pillow and lit up his pipe.
“It’s just that I don’t know what you’re going to say, but Captain Noah keeps hitting me,” Erika said.
El Sup inhaled the pipe smoke, coughed, and asked, “He whaaaat?”
“He keeps hitting me, you know, he does this with his eye,” Erika said, winking.
“Well, now,” El Sup said, breathing a little bit easier, “you don’t mean hitting you, like beating you, but hitting on you, like flirting, right? So do you want me to reprimand him?”
“It’s not that,” Erika explained, “it’s that I don’t know if it’s allowed, cause if it’s allowed, well, that’s fine then, but if it ain’t allowed, well, then first he should see if it can be allowed and then he can hit me all he wants.”
“Hit ON you, Erika, hit ON you,” El Sup drilled.
“That’s it, whatever,” she said.
“Very well. I’m going to look into that and I’ll let you know,” El Sup replied, still lying on the ground
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