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"We better take him back to El Palacio," Wireman
said"I don't like to lose the time - hell, I
don't like to lose him - but this shit ain't
right
"As far as Perse's concerned, it's exactly right,"
I saidNow my bad leg was itching almost as much
as my armIt felt like electricity"It's her
little poison beltHow about you, Wireman? How's
your gut?"
938
"Fine,
vintage omega watches but my bad eye - the one that used to be
bad - is itching like a bastard, and my head's
kind of hummingProbably from that damn radio
"It's not the radioAnd the reason it's getting
to Jack and not to us is because we've beenSort of ironic, isn't
it?"
Behind the wheel, Jack groaned
"What can you do for him, muchacho? Anything?"
"I think so
I had my pads on my
black and white bags lap and my pencils and erasers
in a belt-packNow I flipped to the picture of
Jack and found one of my art-gum erasersI took
away his mouth and the lower arcs of his eyes, all
the way up to the cornersThe itching in my right
arm was fiercer than ever, and I actually had no
doubt that what I planned to do would workI
summoned up the memory of Jack's smile in
earring chanel my
kitchen - the one I'd asked him to give me while
thinking of something particularly good - and drew
it quickly with my Midnight Blue pencilIt took
no more than thirty seconds (the eyes were really
the key, when it comes to smiles, they always are),
939
but those few lines changed the whole idea of Jack
Cantori's face
And I got something I hadn't expectedAs
tiffany heart tag I drew,
I saw him kissing a girl in a bikiniI could feel her smooth skin, even a few
little grains of sand nestling in the hollow at
the small of her backI could smell her shampoo
and taste a faint ghost of salt on her lipsI
knew her name was Caitlin and he called her Kate
I put my pencil back in the little belt-pack and
zipped it closed"Jack?" Speaking
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