Page 7 (1/2)

"If you want food," the Aine, "come inside and eat"

I’m surprised that we’ve stopped at all, much less to feed me He walks around to my side of the car and opens the door, likely just to entleet out Finally, I do, just after slipping my bare feet down into my flip-flops in the floorboard

This place can’t be called a roadside diner; I think it would need a few more tables for that, but there is a place to sit and eat, off in a dark corner near a single black door I have a microwaved chicken sandwich fro but black coffee The two of us look out-of-place here Both of us obviously with no Spanish genes, in a place that is clearly not a tourist town, him dressed in expensive black slacks and shoes, which were probably shiny at one time but are now covered in a fine layer of dirt I know I must smell pretty bad I don’t remember the last time I wore deodorant

I scarf down half of the chicken sandwich and gulp the bottled water until it’s nearly eo never to drink the water in these parts, that if it isn’t from an unopened bottle, it’ll probably radually, reading the contents of a local newspaper of sorts If I didn’t know better, we could al breakfast in any typical American town Unconventional because I’m only twenty-three, and the American, he’s older than me Middle to late thirties,here one day, like he is noith both feet on the floor and his dress-shirt-covered elbows on the table, I’d find hih with stubble in a pattern along his face He has sharp cheekbones and piercing blue-green eyes that see And he’s very tall, lean and frightening I find it notable how he scaresto say a word At the same time, I feel like I’m better off with the American than I ever ith the likes of Javier

At least, for now That’ll change, I’m sure, when he tries to hand me back over to hioing to tell me your name?" I ask

He raises his eyes fro his head

I can sense iet that personal with his ‘hostage’, but finally he throws me a bone

"Victor"

I’m so stunned he even told me that it takes me a second to think of what to say next

I sip my water

"Where are you from?" I ask

It’s worth a try

"Why don’t you finish your food," he suggests and peers back down into the paper

"You know my name You knohere I’m from Why don’t you humor me, Victor?" The bitterness into kill me, I’d be dead already, so I’ hs with annoyance and shakes his head subtly

"I was born in Boston," he says "I have a sister A year younger than me My mother is somewhere in Budapest My father, he’s dead He was my first kill"

That sht out offor the man behind the counter who sold us the food He’s on the opposite side of the store, sweeping the floor and not paying a lick of attention to us

I look back at…Victor, nervously shat’s left of the saliva in my mouth

"You killed your father?" I have to believe it was for so those lines

He nods

"Why? How old were you?"

"I think you know enough about , ently around the tiny white Styrofoam cup "You asked to know more about me and I told you It was a favor Not an invitation to asklike that to begin with Maybe he was just trying to scare ether