Wrong Thing by Barry Graham

guys. “This is Martin, but I call him Martian. And this is Bobby.”
    The Kid shook hands with them both, and told them his name.
    â€œMy name’s Vanjii,” the woman said. The two guys went on talking with each other. She kept looking at the Kid, and said, “Why’d you get beat up?”
    â€œNo reason. They were just messing with us.”
    â€œDid they beat up that guy you’re here with too?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWhere’s he?”
    â€œAt the restroom.”
    â€œHey, can I ask you a question?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œAre you and him like . . . gay?”
    The Kid laughed at the thought. “No, we’re both straight. What made you think that?”
    â€œI saw you both coming out of Trash Disco once. A lot of gay guys go there.”
    â€œWell, not us. He’s my roommate.”
    She smiled at him. “I’m glad you’re straight.” She lowered her voice. “Neither of these guys is my boyfriend, they’re just friends. Bobby wants to be, but it’s never gonna happen.”
    Miguel appeared. “Hey, bro. We leaving or staying?” he asked the Kid.
    Before the Kid could answer, Vanjii said, “Martian’s giving me a ride home. Hey, you doing anything tomorrow?”
    â€œNot really,” the Kid said.
    â€œWell, I’ll be working at Woolworth’s in the Plaza. Come and see me in the afternoon, okay?”
    â€œOkay.”
    Before he stood up, she hugged him quickly.
    The Kid and Miguel walked out into the street. “How in the hell did you get talking to her?” Miguel asked.
    â€œI didn’t. She got talking to me.”
    â€œMan. Today has been the best of times and worst of times for sure.”
    â€œWhere’d you get that?”
    â€œIt’s from the book I’m working on,” Miguel said.
    The Kid looked at him. “You’re writing a book?”
    â€œHell, no. I’m trying to read one.”
    They both laughed, half-realizing how drunk they were. The Kid told Miguel what Vanjii had said to him, and Miguel had hysterics. “If it was anybody but you, I’d say they had to be messing with me. Come and see me at Woolworth’s . . . God damn.”

SEVEN
    T he Kid slept until around eleven, then got up and ate fried chicken livers and eggs for breakfast. Miguel was still asleep. The Kid drank some coffee, then went outside and got in his car. He drove to Acequia Madre Street, to the house where the snitch lived. He parked, got out of the car and knocked on the door.
    A young woman opened it. “Is Rob home?” the Kid asked her.
    She looked at him venomously. “He left.”
    â€œWhen’ll he be back?”
    â€œHe won’t be back. He left for good.”
    â€œWhere’d he go?”
    â€œI don’t know. He didn’t say where he was going.”
    The Kid knew she was lying, but that didn’t matter. “Thanks,” he said. The woman closed the door. The Kid wondered if she was the woman the snitch had planned to marry, and if she would join him wherever he was moving to.

    The Kid drove to the Plaza, but in the early afternoon it was impossible to find a parking space anywhere near it. He drove around for a while, then headed for the Aztec Cafe. He drank a hot cider and read the
New Mexican.
It wasn’t a very long walk from Aztec Street to the Plaza, so when he left the Aztec he decided to leave his car there and walk.
    The Woolworth’s was made from adobe, but the Kid didn’t know whether it was real. A lot of the buildings are just made that way for the benefit of tourists and white incomers. Only rich white people lived in the center of town now; gentrification had driven the Mexicans out into the barrios. The Kid went into the Woolworth’s and looked at the checkout people, but none of them was Vanjii. He walked around the store looking for her among the aisles, but he didn’t find her.
    Then he