Mission Flats
“The ex-cop tried to fix his filmy eyes on me but they were sluggish; he let them wander to a spot on my chest somewhere.
‘What is it now, Maine? Gittens send you back for more?’ ‘No, sir. Gittens doesn’t even know I’m here.’ ‘Of course he does.’ Vega snorted, then padded off barefoot.
Kelly and I followed him to the same room where we’d spoken ten days before. Vega fell into one of the sweat-slicked wing chairs and returned to his television show, ESPN SportsCenter.
There was something disquiet...ing about Vega’s appearance. It wasn’t simply that he was drunk or exhausted – though he was obviously both drunk and exhausted. Something was missing, something had gone out of him. Whatever it is that hangs behind the curtain, behind the gristle and bone of the face, whatever it is that animates the eyes and nose and mouth, it had simply left. I could imagine Vega removing that pouchy, unhandsome face and laying it down like one of Dali’s liquid clock faces.
‘Have you been drinking, Julio?’ I asked.MoreLess
‘What is it now, Maine? Gittens send you back for more?’ ‘No, sir. Gittens doesn’t even know I’m here.’ ‘Of course he does.’ Vega snorted, then padded off barefoot.
Kelly and I followed him to the same room where we’d spoken ten days before. Vega fell into one of the sweat-slicked wing chairs and returned to his television show, ESPN SportsCenter.
There was something disquiet...ing about Vega’s appearance. It wasn’t simply that he was drunk or exhausted – though he was obviously both drunk and exhausted. Something was missing, something had gone out of him. Whatever it is that hangs behind the curtain, behind the gristle and bone of the face, whatever it is that animates the eyes and nose and mouth, it had simply left. I could imagine Vega removing that pouchy, unhandsome face and laying it down like one of Dali’s liquid clock faces.
‘Have you been drinking, Julio?’ I asked.MoreLess
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