Out of Their Minds. Luis Humberto Crosthwaite

JUST SOME GOOD OLD BOYS

       Tengo un libro vacío

       y lo voy a empezar;

      tengo sed de cariño,

      tengo ganas de amar.

      —Raul Ramirez

      I think I can make it now, the pain is gone

      All of the bad feelings have disappeared

      Here is the rainbow I’ve been praying for

      It’s gonna be a bright, bright

      Sun-shiny day.

      —Johnny Nash

      CORNELIO: We’ve known each other all our lives. When I woke up, Ramón was already there.

      RAMÓN: What’s wrong with you? It’s not like we sleep together.

      CORNELIO: I didn’t say that, man.

      RAMÓN: Well, then why do people talk…

      CORNELIO: What I was trying to explain, man, before you interrupted me, is that we’ve practically known each other since we were born.

      RAMÓN: Don’t you remember school?

      CORNELIO: What school?

      RAMÓN: The school. School.

      CORNELIO: What about it?

      RAMÓN: We went together, man, that’s where we met. We were in the same class, did our homework, hated the teachers, always ate tuna fish sandwiches at lunch time.

      CORNELIO: You sure that was with me? You sure it wasn’t with another Cornelio? (He laughs.)

      RAMÓN (sarcastically): Ah, well maybe. Because I am witness that there have been several Cornelios.

      CORNELIO: Don’t start with that again.

      RAMÓN: It’s true, man. When I talk about the school I’m talking about the Cornelio from before. Because one day my buddy became someone else, but that was after we started playing music. It’s got nothing to do with our childhood.

      AB*: What do you mean “someone else”?

      RAMÓN: Someone else?

      AB: You said that Cornelio was someone else.

      RAMÓN: When?

      AB: You just said it.

      RAMÓN: Oh, yeah.

      CORNELIO: You’re going to start that again.

      RAMÓN: All of a sudden Cornelio got to be real creative, man. A real songwriter. When we were little pricks, all we thought about was having a good time, running around, playing pranks and everything else. That’s for sure, man, always together. I remember that this always got us in trouble with our mommas.

      CORNELIO: They used to hate each other.

      RAMÓN: Okey, now you remember?

      CORNELIO: I remember my mother, not yours, man.

      RAMÓN: They were two of a kind. They hated each other, who knows why. And the worst part for them is that we were friends, man, more than friends…

      CORNELIO: Lovers?

      RAMÓN: Watch yourself, okey? And then you ask why the rumors start coming out.

      CORNELIO: Well, explain it, Ramón. If you say that we were more than friends…

      RAMÓN: Stop fooling around, fuckin’ Cornelio. You know what I’m talking about. We were best buddies, always together, you know. We even chased the same girls.

      CORNELIO: Hey, hey, hey. Watch what you’re saying, man. My girls were my girls. Loving isn’t sharing…well, maybe in some cases.

      *Over the course of several years, the poet Abigael Bohórquez conducted a series of interviews with the norteño duet the Relampagos de Agosto. The interviews touch on topics that range from the duet’s humble beginnings to the pinnacles of their careers. The complete interviews will be published as Thunder and Lightning: Interviews with Ramón and Cornelio by Cinco Puntos Press in 2014. Excerpted here by permission of the author.

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