The Orchid Eater by Marc Laidlaw Read Free Book Online

figure lying in the
dark on the couch below. A drab army-issue jacket had been thrown over one arm
of the sofa, and a knapsack sat on the floor next to a metal crowbar that could
have come from Sal’s own garage. The fruit bowl on the coffee table was almost
empty. Peels, cores and broken walnut shells were scattered on the glass.
    “Hello,
Sal.”
    Sal didn’t
move for a moment. He knew the voice, high as a girl’s, but the body that went
with it was all wrong.
    “Guadalupe?”
he whispered.
    “Caught up
with you.”
    Sal flipped
on a light. He hadn’t seen his brother in more than five years, and life had
changed him in ways he never could have predicted. Lupe had always run to fat,
slouching around like a sleepwalker, a born victim, natural prey for urban
predators. But now he looked trim and strong, in need of no protector. His blue
jeans and thin T-shirt were stretched tight over lean, dense muscles. His face,
though . . . his face hadn’t changed. Fatcheeked, round
and soft, like a baby’s head on a soldier’s frame, as though none of the body’s
hardships had been able to affect that grinning moon. His hands were scarred,
his brow smooth.
    “How’d you
find me?”
    “Wasn’t
hard. Why? Were you hiding?”
    “It’s just.
. . you’ve been out of touch so long, I didn’t know how to tell you where I
went.”
    “You didn’t
tell many of your old friends either. I was in L.A. for a week, asking after
you. Aunt Theresa . . . you didn’t even tell her.”
    “I
especially didn’t tell her,” Sal said, suddenly uncomfortable, as if Lupe had
reached into an old source of shame and drawn out Sal’s personal demons. He
felt attacked. Lupe’s appearance brought a flood of unwelcome memories, things
he had been glad to leave untouched for as long as possible.
    Sal heard
steps in the back of the house. Realizing that his boys were coming in, he
relaxed.
    “I didn’t
want any of those fools following me,” he said, wishing he didn’t sound so
defensive. “I wanted to leave all that shit behind. Like you did.”
    Lupe shook
his head and laughed, a high-pitched childish sound. “I didn’t leave anything
behind. I went to meet it.”
    “So what’d
you do? Join the army?”
    The girlish
face looked astonished. “You think they’d take me? No, I been traveling. All
over the country.”
    “No kidding?
New York?”
    Lupe nodded.
“I was there a while. I like the country better.”
    Sal found
himself laughing. “Who’d have thought it? We’re a long way from our roots—not
many like us. You’re a world traveler, and me . . .  ”
    “Yeah. What
are you, anyway?”
    Randy
stepped into the room.
    In the
instant of silence that followed, Lupe grabbed for his coat, fingers closing on
the pocket.
    He’s got a
knife, Sal thought. I wonder if it’s the same one . . . the switchblade I gave
him?
    “What’s
going on?” Randy said. “Who is this?”
    “This is my
little brother Lupe. He’s come for a visit.” Lupe stared at Randy.
    “He couldn’t
wait till we got home?” Randy said. “He had to break the fucking window and
jimmy the door?”
    “Cool it,”
Sal said. “This was unexpected. For all he knew, I might have been out of town
for a week.”
    Randy shook
his head and went toward the back of the house. “Wait’ll you see this,” he
called. “Sal has a brother.”
    “Who’s he
talking to?” Lupe said.
    “My
friends,” said Sal. He could see that Lupe was disappointed they wouldn’t be
alone; Randy’s appearance had jarred him. To be fair, he’d have to set aside
some time to spend alone with his brother—send the boys out for a while so they
could talk in private.
    Meanwhile,
he was curious to see how Lupe would react to the gang.
    Marilyn was
the first into the room, fingers toying with his long platinum locks. When he
saw Lupe, he let his hands fall.
    “This is
Lupe,” Sal said.
    " Loopie?” said
Marilyn, gaping. “Is that a nickname? You’re not loopie, are