Read Online The Uncomfortable Dead by Paco Ignacio Taibo II, Subcomandante Marcos - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Paco Ignacio Taibo II, Subcomandante Marcos
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smoking.
“That was all, Comrade Insurgent Subcomandante Marcos,” Erika said, then saluted and marched off.
El Sup just lay there thinking and biting the stem of his pipe. Then there was a cracking noise and he rolled over, spitting pieces of pipe on the ground.
“Sonovabitch! I think I’m getting too old for this job,” El Sup said, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the broken beam or cause he fell and didn’t get up or cause the pipe kept going out or cause Erika said hitting instead of hitting on or cause he had just ruined another good pipe with his biting or because of the damn customs and mores.
“So I’m heading out,” I said.
“Did you get someone to go with you?” he asked.
“Yeah, I did,” I said. “I’m traveling with some campamenteros who were going into Mexico City anyway, and—”
“Into the Monster, remember that we call Mexico City the Monster,” El Sup corrected.
“That’s it,” I said.
What I didn’t say was that I had told the campamenteros that I was going into Mexi—into the Monster—to buy some medicine. I don’t rightly know if they believed me, but that’s what El Sup told me to say. He said that his granny used to tell him to invent a story when he wasn’t sposed to say what he was doing, the first story that popped into his head, and then tell it like it was some big secret. That way they’d believe you. That’s what El Sup said his granny told him, El Sup. Now who woulda thought that? I always figgered El Sup didn’t have no grandmother.
“That’s good,” El Sup said. Looking at Major Moses, he went on, “Turn those envelopes with the letters over to Elías.”
Then Major Moses gave me some envelopes and I stuck them in my backpack. It was already starting to rain again when I asked, “Say there, Sup, there anything you need?”
“Yes,” El Sup answered, “there’s a few things. The first is that little nylon bag over there.”
So I give El Sup the nylon bag—him still flat on the ground—so’s he could cover the pipe from the rain.
“And the second thing is, I want you to bring me back one of those soft drinks from the Monster, the one called Chaparritas El Naranjo, the kind that tastes like grape. Oh, and there’s another thing. Tell Belascoarán that if he don’t manage to teach you how to play dominos, it’s because he’s an imbecile. No, not an imbecile; that’s too strong a word around those parts. Maybe you’d better say it’s cause he’s an asshole, which isn’t so offensive and he’ll get the drift of what I mean.”
“So what’s that good for?” I asked El Sup, cause I didn’t know what that dominos was.
“Except for demonstrations and earthquakes, couples dominos is the closest thing citizens have to working collectively. You learn and then come back and teach us, cause just maybe we’ll be needing it someday to keep us from getting stuck with the six, isn’t that right?” El Sup said, turning to Tacho and Mo, who were laughing again. Well, they seemed to know what he was talking about.
“Dominos?” I asked. “Not chess?” Cause the thing is, I see people playing chess in the towns, even with the campamenteros.
“Nope. That stuff about how military commanders and detectives play chess is bull. Military commanders play cards—solitaire, to be precise—and they do puzzles. Detectives play dominos. So you tell him to teach you, hear?” El Sup said, finally getting off the ground.
“Okay by me,” I says.
Major Moses bid me goodbye cause he was going somewhere else. He hugged me and said I should have a good trip. Then I hugged El Sup and Comandante Tacho, too. And they said the same thing about having a good trip and taking care of myself and all. El Sup reminded me that I shouldn’t forget what he told me; that through the communiqués he would let me know what to do.
As I walked away, El Sup was climbing on the part of the roof frame that hadn’t caved in and telling Comandante Tacho,
“That was all, Comrade Insurgent Subcomandante Marcos,” Erika said, then saluted and marched off.
El Sup just lay there thinking and biting the stem of his pipe. Then there was a cracking noise and he rolled over, spitting pieces of pipe on the ground.
“Sonovabitch! I think I’m getting too old for this job,” El Sup said, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the broken beam or cause he fell and didn’t get up or cause the pipe kept going out or cause Erika said hitting instead of hitting on or cause he had just ruined another good pipe with his biting or because of the damn customs and mores.
“So I’m heading out,” I said.
“Did you get someone to go with you?” he asked.
“Yeah, I did,” I said. “I’m traveling with some campamenteros who were going into Mexico City anyway, and—”
“Into the Monster, remember that we call Mexico City the Monster,” El Sup corrected.
“That’s it,” I said.
What I didn’t say was that I had told the campamenteros that I was going into Mexi—into the Monster—to buy some medicine. I don’t rightly know if they believed me, but that’s what El Sup told me to say. He said that his granny used to tell him to invent a story when he wasn’t sposed to say what he was doing, the first story that popped into his head, and then tell it like it was some big secret. That way they’d believe you. That’s what El Sup said his granny told him, El Sup. Now who woulda thought that? I always figgered El Sup didn’t have no grandmother.
“That’s good,” El Sup said. Looking at Major Moses, he went on, “Turn those envelopes with the letters over to Elías.”
Then Major Moses gave me some envelopes and I stuck them in my backpack. It was already starting to rain again when I asked, “Say there, Sup, there anything you need?”
“Yes,” El Sup answered, “there’s a few things. The first is that little nylon bag over there.”
So I give El Sup the nylon bag—him still flat on the ground—so’s he could cover the pipe from the rain.
“And the second thing is, I want you to bring me back one of those soft drinks from the Monster, the one called Chaparritas El Naranjo, the kind that tastes like grape. Oh, and there’s another thing. Tell Belascoarán that if he don’t manage to teach you how to play dominos, it’s because he’s an imbecile. No, not an imbecile; that’s too strong a word around those parts. Maybe you’d better say it’s cause he’s an asshole, which isn’t so offensive and he’ll get the drift of what I mean.”
“So what’s that good for?” I asked El Sup, cause I didn’t know what that dominos was.
“Except for demonstrations and earthquakes, couples dominos is the closest thing citizens have to working collectively. You learn and then come back and teach us, cause just maybe we’ll be needing it someday to keep us from getting stuck with the six, isn’t that right?” El Sup said, turning to Tacho and Mo, who were laughing again. Well, they seemed to know what he was talking about.
“Dominos?” I asked. “Not chess?” Cause the thing is, I see people playing chess in the towns, even with the campamenteros.
“Nope. That stuff about how military commanders and detectives play chess is bull. Military commanders play cards—solitaire, to be precise—and they do puzzles. Detectives play dominos. So you tell him to teach you, hear?” El Sup said, finally getting off the ground.
“Okay by me,” I says.
Major Moses bid me goodbye cause he was going somewhere else. He hugged me and said I should have a good trip. Then I hugged El Sup and Comandante Tacho, too. And they said the same thing about having a good trip and taking care of myself and all. El Sup reminded me that I shouldn’t forget what he told me; that through the communiqués he would let me know what to do.
As I walked away, El Sup was climbing on the part of the roof frame that hadn’t caved in and telling Comandante Tacho,
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