up a plate and handed the spoon to the next person in line. “I want to eat with you and Stella.” Janie followed her to one of the tables and sat on the bench next to Cookie and across from Stella. Loaves of bread and bowls of salad made their way down the center of each table.
Stella wiped the beans from his plate with a slice of bread. “About time. I thought you weren’t sitting down tonight.”
Cookie laughed. “I nibbled all day.”
The rice and beans were served with a salad of oranges, avocados, and some crunchy white vegetable that was cut into tiny slivers and tasted sweet. Janie had never eaten such exotic food before. “I wish I could cook like this. How did you learn?”
“My grandmother on my mom’s side taught me how to make traditional Cuban food. She moved in with us after my grandfather died. I was six. I think I learned to cook to anger my mami. She’s a law professor at U C- Berkeley. She wanted me to be one too. Or an attorney like my dad. Or at least a profession requiring an advanced degree. My mom believes cooking is demeaning. If you want to learn, I’d be happy to show you.”
“I’d like that. It’s really good.” Janie sliced another piece of bread from the loaf. “Did you make the bread too?”
“I can’t take all the credit. Alex, that big guy in the red T-shirt, he baked the bread all last week and froze it in my walk-in.”
Stella filled a cup with wine from a big bottle on the table. “Cookie has a restaurant in Eugene.”
“Not a restaurant. I have a food cart on campus and a kitchen I use for some catering. I aspire to own a restaurant.”
Stella reached across the table and caressed Cookie’s arm. “I keep saying you could do food at my place.”
Cookie pulled her hand away. “Listen mijo, you know what I think about the way you’ve chosen to make your money. Sell that titty bar and then we’ll talk.”
Stella looked away.
Cookie reached out this time and stroked Stella’s arm. “Never mind. Over this we will agree to disagree.” She looked at Janie. “Want to learn to fry a plantain, chica?”
Janie had never cooked much before she came to Stella’s. She was so young when her mom died and Daddy cooked simple meals designed to get by. Norma preferred frozen dinners or eating out and rarely cooked. Cookie showed Janie how to slice the plantains and slip them into a skillet of hot peanut oil and just when to turn them.
She helped Cookie fry dozens sprinkling them with cinnamon and sugar. After the plantains were eaten and the dishes cleaned they sat around the fire watching the flames die to coals. As the evening ended Janie leaned against China, who slept snuggled against her back. Cat had attached herself to her ex-boyfriend. It looked to Janie like everyone was coupled up for the night. Stella sat across the pit from her. Cookie nestled in the V of his lap, his arms wrapped around her. Cookie rose and stretched joined by Stella a moment later. They waved goodnight to Janie and walked to the tipi in the dark meadow.
Janie waited awhile before she left the fire and went off to find her small tent. He’d told her that the tipi would give her good dreams but she didn’t want to be in the tipi with all the couples. The meadow in the dark was beautiful. The sky looked like a planetarium show – the stars were so close and bright. She crawled into the tent with China and into her sleeping bag, zipping up the door behind her and rubbing China’s forehead until she drifted off to sleep.
Late in the night the familiar sound of a motorcycle on gravel woke her. She turned over in her sleeping bag and made herself close her eyes.
Tight-Wire
JANIE UNZIPPED THE TENT AND STEPPED OUTSIDE. CHINA stretched and shook herself, happy to be released from the small space. Early morning light filled the sky. Janie had been awake, waiting for morning to come so she could sneak away without seeing Paul. She dressed and crept through camp, hoping she wouldn’t wake anyone. Yesterday she had noticed a trailhead at the campground entrance and she headed there now.
Janie walked to the makeshift kitchen and saw Paul’s bike. She took some fruit, a jar for water and part of a loaf of bread. She’d stay away all day. Maybe by sunset he’d be gone. As she walked down the path to the main campground, she began to relax. Being near Paul made her feel as if she couldn’t catch a breath.
The lower campground looked like a suburban neighborhood transplanted into the woods and smelled like bacon. Janie used the cinder block bathhouse to shower. There weren’t any tipis down here. People camped out of motor homes and trailers; only a few had tents. Although it was still early, people were up. When she’d been on the road before Stella’s, she liked wandering around neighborhoods checking out houses from the street, looking in windows, seeing what people did. It made her sad but she could never resist a glimpse of regular families, eating meatloaf and watching Gunsmoke.
Janie found the trailhead. An official looking notice encouraged hikers to write their names, time they left, and destination in a battered notebook chained to the post. Janie dug in her pack for a pen and wrote, Saturday morning early, then paused and scratched it out. She wished she’d left a note for Stella. Nobody else would miss her.
PAUL SAT AT the picnic table sipping his coffee, waiting for Janie to appear. He had tried to get there earlier, but it didn’t happen because Ernie wanted him to cop enough acid to light up this birthday party. Paul was happy to oblige, but he didn’t have it on him and had to see the twins in Seattle. They didn’t get off work until late. That was the thing about dealing, you could spend hours just waiting to score. You had to be patient, had to have time to kill, had to be willing to wait. Now with a pocketful of acid tabs, the rest of the weekend was his.
He wanted to talk to Janie. He had stayed away from her, going to the bar only to do business. He stayed away hoping he’d forget her. Before if he stayed away long enough most memories lost their sharpness leaving behind a dull ache, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Janie. He’d gone down to San Francisco to do some business, and when he got back he’d stopped by Dee’s place. Janie wasn’t there. He went to The Habit. Dee said Janie was living with Stella. She made it sound like they were together, but Ernie told him Janie had been beaten up pretty bad, maybe raped, trying to hitch out of town. Paul wanted to ask Stella how she was but he couldn’t. Stella never liked him and wouldn’t give Paul anything, not even information. He hoped he’d see her. Make sure she was all right. She’d come around sooner or later.
Ernie, shirtless and sunburned, came down the path from the tipi. “Hey Paul! When’d you get here?” He belched and rearranged his shorts.
“Late.” Paul took a joint from his shirt pocket and lit it, taking a hit and passing it to Ernie. “Happy birthday, man.”
Ernie took the joint and examined it, smoothing the seam with his finger.
“Let’s see what you got.”
Paul took a baggie with a sheet of paper stamped with tiny purple pyramids. He handed it to Ernie.
Ernie cut two squares from the sheet with his Swiss Army knife, popped them in his mouth, and handed Paul two squares. “Let’s get lost.”
JANIE ROLLED ON her back and stretched out in the sun. Sometime today, unless she didn’t go back, she was going to see Paul. Unless he left. That was a possibility. Thinking about him made her stomach feel tight and a little sick.
