Homemade Sin by V. Mark Covington Read Free Book Online Page B

town, probably part of the reason I have Intermittent Tourette’s syndrome. I wasn’t allowed to cuss or drink or fool around as a girl. Now, I’m trying to make up for lost time. I guess it’s sort of like a preacher’s kids the first week in college, they go hog wild. Only my first week has been going on for five years.”
    Roland watched Stinky hop off the bar and saunter back to the table and leap into a chair.
    â€œThe zombie drink didn’t work,” Stinky said in Roland’s head. “That stuff didn’t turn the guy into a zombie.”
    â€œIt’s a just drink,” Roland said. “It’s got cherry brandy, rum, lemon, lime and orange juice and a little grenadine.”
    â€œAnd it doesn’t turn people into zombies?” Stinky sighed, manifestly disappointed.
    â€œOf course not,” said Roland. “There’s no such thing as zombies. That’s only in bad horror movies.”
    A condescending grin played at the corners of Stinky’s mouth. “’There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’” Stinky’s voice was redolent and Shakespearian in Roland’s head.
    â€œNow I suppose you knew Shakespeare?”
    The waiter arrived shortly after Stinky returned and placed drinks before the couple and the saucer of cream and brandy in front of Stinky on the floor. Stinky’s grin widened enigmatically as he bent down and began lapping up the creamy concoction.
    â€œYou’re doing it again,” said Dee Dee. “Having a one-sided conversation with that cat. Are you a little crazy?”
    â€œWell, that’s debatable,” said Roland. He thought about his running telepathic conversation with Stinky.
    Dee took a sip from her glass. “Here is to fucking South Boston.” As she ran her tongue over her lips, she slipped off a sandal, stretched out her foot and brushed her toes against Roland’s ankle.
    Roland smiled. “Tourette’s?” he said. “Isn’t that where you can’t control what you say, you cuss a lot?”
    â€œYeah, but I don’t have it all the time. It comes and goes. Anyway,” Dee Dee said, “the next town over from South Boston was called Halifax. It was smaller but, for some reason, the girls who grew up over there were a lot prettier than the girls in South Boston, so when a South Boston girl was hot she was called ‘Halifax hot’. I was called that a lot growing up; about forty-seven times, actually. That’s how many guys were in my graduation class. ”
    â€œHow did you get to Key West?”
    â€œYou mean why did I leave South Boston?” Dee Dee said. “Besides the dogma, the moralistic oppression, and the boredom? I was asked to leave when I was nineteen. Actually, the town was nice enough to buy me a one-way bus ticket to Key West, as far south as they could send me.”
    â€œYou actually got run out of town! Why?”
    â€œI was dating this guy and the town didn’t approve. He was easily the richest guy in town. I think it was mostly his wife who objected, but the town agreed with her so they sent a town deputy to my house one day with a bus ticket.”
    â€œThat’s the meanest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Roland, trying not to smile. Impressive, he thought, I’ve never known anyone who was actually run out of town.
    â€œThey could have been meaner and sent me north.” Dee Dee grinned. “Actually it a good thing, it got me here. I’m doing better here.”
    â€œI thought you said you were broke and about to be evicted,” said Roland.
    â€œIt’s still better than there.” She took another sip of mango daiquiri. “And I’ll find another job, there’s lots of call for what I do.”
    â€œWhat do you do?”
    â€œI cut fish, make sushi,” Dee Dee said. “Maybe you know someone in town who needs a