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The Fancy ladies fluttered when he came in the door. Then they saw me. It was like they’d seen a rat running across the floor. And I didn’t really blame them.
After ten minutes I was thinking, Fuck these women. I didn’t often even think that word, but it made me feel better while they yanked at me and turned me around. I tried to tell myself this was like picking out a new gun, but that didn’t work too well. I love guns.
I left Fancy with a dress, two blouses, two skirts, two pairs of shoes, underwear, and a nightgown. And a hat. And a purse. I had no idea what I was going to carry in the purse, unless it was extra bullets.
“You bitch!” he said, and started to wheel around to hit me, but Eli got him with a spell first, contained in some powder he’d pinched from a pocket of his grigori vest. Rogelio went blank and silent. “I love that,” I said.
“What kind of ice cream do you have?” She had chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and blueberry. “I can’t decide,” I said. “You can get two scoops,” she told me, her eyes never leaving Eli. “Two different kinds.” “Chocolate and blueberry,” I said. “Vanilla and strawberry,” Eli said. So we got to taste all four, and it was the happiest fifteen minutes I’d had that day.
This was a good moment. I added it to my little room of good moments.
We had a fine time finishing our food. I was used to a lot more exercise and a lot less eating, and I felt porky.
“Yes, let’s go to another restaurant,” Eli said. “This time of day they won’t be crowded, and we can get some pie. Or ice cream.” More food. I was going to be as tubby as Big Balls, the butcher’s pig in Segundo Mexia.
“It could have been a guerilla strike.” Eli looked thoughtful. “Guerillas? There are guerillas here in Dixie?” It was lucky I was looking down. I thought he meant “gorillas” for a minute, and I was having a picture in my head that was crazy wonderful. Then my brain translated.
“He’s a tracker, ma’am. He can track anything you give him the scent of. A missing person, a deer, and so on.” I hadn’t had any idea dogs could do that. “Thank you for letting me meet him,” I said, not having much idea how to end this encounter. “You’re real welcome. Clete likes to make new friends.” I looked at the baggy jowls and the drool and I figured it might be a little hard for Clete to do that. Smart he might be, but he was not lovely or appealing, at least to this Texoman. The dog and the man resumed their walk, and I congratulated myself on avoiding the drool.
“I believe you,” Eli said. “But right now, even if I didn’t, I’d say I did, because I have to lie down on something that’s not moving.” I figured out after a second that he meant the bed, not me. I’d been thinking, I move plenty when the occasion calls for it. “Okay, let’s go to bed,” I said.
