Miami Blues by Charles Willeford Read Free Book Online Page B

papers?"
    "I'll sign something to say he's my brother, but I won't sign anything else. Anything else, funeral arrangements or anything, you'll have to notify my father. It's his responsibility, not mine."
    In the office, Susan signed the form Dr. Ramirez made out. He Xeroxed a copy on the office machine and gave it to Hoke. Hoke folded the Xeroxed form into a square and tucked it into his notebook. They shook hands with Dr. Ramirez and then went out to the car. When they were seated, Hoke suggested that they stop for a drink.
    "Fine with me," Freddy said. "But make it some place where I can get a sandwich."
    "We'll stop at a Brazilian steak house on Biscayne. They've got the best steak sandwiches in town."
    They were shown to a table right away. Hoke ordered a rum and Coke, Freddy a glass of red wine, and Susan asked for a Shirley Temple, claiming she never drank anything stronger than beer and that she didn't feel like having a beer on top of the yogurt she had eaten for dinner. The waiter, a Salvadoran with very little English, had difficulty with the Shirley Temple. Hoke had to cross over to the bar and explain to the Costa Rican bartender how to make it.
    Hoke waved away the menu, which was printed in Portuguese, and ordered two steak sandwiches and three flans. The steak sandwiches arrived, redolent of garlic, along with the desserts.
    Freddy dug into the custard immediately, and finished it before he covered his sandwich with A-1 Sauce.
    "Where'd you do your time?" Hoke asked Freddy. "Marianna or Raiford?"
    "Time? What time? What makes you think I did time?"
    Hoke shrugged. "The way you tucked into that flan, and because you ate it first, before tackling your sandwich. How long were you in Marianna?"
    "I don't even know where Marianna is."
    "It's our state juvenile reform school. Where're you from?"
    "California. Santa Barbara. I came here to Miami to study management at Miami-Dade. When we graduate, me and Susan're going to get us a Burger King franchise somewhere. So she's studying business and management, too. I think I see what you mean, though, about eating my dessert first. But that's because I was an orphan and raised in a foster home. There were three other guys there, all of us about the same age, and you more or less had to eat your dessert first or somebody else would snatch it."
    "The same ritual, you'll discover, is practiced at Raiford. So at least if you ever get into trouble down here you've got a good habit going for you. I didn't get your name, except for the 'Junior.'"
    "Ramon Mendez."
    "You don't have a Spanish accent. Have you got your green card?"
    "I'm not a Chicano, I'm an American citizen. And I've got ID if you want to see it. Just because a man's got a Spanish name, that doesn't make him a refugee or something. It just so happens that Mendez was my father's name, but my mother was as big a WASP as you are. Besides, I already told you I was brought up with all white guys in a foster home!"
    "Don't get excited, Ramon. We're just having a little pleasant conversation here. Do you speak Spanish?"
    "A little, sure. I went to school in Santa Barbara, and we had our share of Chicanos out there. You pick it up a little playing softball. You know, shouting 'Arriba, arriba!' when a guy's trying to reach second base on a steal."
    "You pump a little iron, too, right?"
    "A little. I can jerk three-twenty-five, but I don't like to do it. I'm not really into heavy lifting. I just like to work out, that's all."
    "What's your bicep?"
    Freddy shrugged. "I haven't measured in a while. It used to be twenty-one inches. I doubt if it's that much now."
    "I'm impressed."
    "Well, I'm not one of your body lovers. As I said, I just like to work out for the exercise, that's all."
    Hoke turned to Susan. "How's your Shirley Temple, Miss Waggoner? Would you rather have some coffee? Some espresso?"
    "No, no, this is fine. I was supposed to meet my brother at the airport tonight at eight-thirty. And he was gonna give me two