Her strange beauty was compounded by a unique habit she had of flicking her arms. In the middle of walking, eating, talking, she would involuntarily move her shoulder up, followed by her upper arm, her elbow, then her wrist. Then with a small flick of her fingertips, she would change the direction, & her wrist would lead the heel of her hand, her elbow, & the rest of her arm back down again. After a couple of days in her company, people became accustomed to it & were no longer openly mesmerized by the rippling muscles & graceful arcs of those velvet arms. The motion was fascinating, but people thought it impolite to speak of it. Like a speech disorder or a wheelchair, it was “ignored,” but when people saw her shoulder rise, they discretely stepped out of the way. They knew the force, as well as the grace, of that arm.
When she looked at herself in the mirror her eyescreen inadvertently read:
? MiLelKo FruStaTahl WaLiLaHeRaMiNa ?
But Patrice, having no eyescreen, simply registered her as WaLiLa Eyibe, 22, Ethiopian & friend.
“Hey Lila, what’s up? Who you here with?” Patrice was holding on to some tall, dark Dominican’s hand.
? Pito Reino, 23, 5?10?, 187, Dominican ?
“MalKai I with,” she replied. “You have fun, huh?” WaLiLa smiled at Patrice, jerking her chin toward Pito.
“Si, senora.” Patrice answered.
“You no come with him,” WaLiLa said, more of a statement than a question.
“No, I’m here with C.J. & George.”
“The Haitian?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You like George, no?”
“Yeah, I did, but he’s all up in C.J.’s butt. You know how much they love her light ass here.”
“Lila, here’s your drink.” MalKai interrupted, handing WaLiLa a
“Now I no have dance mate,” complained WaLiLa.
“Good thing I got one right here,” smiled Patrice holding up Pito’s hand as though a trophy. “I’m not sweating all these men flocking over C.J. Tonight none of that shit matters. Where are you sitting?”
“I no sit still.”
“Look, we’re sitting over there in the corner. You can sit with us. Me & Pito are just going to get a little fresh air. Be right back.”
i back lean in chair metal. seat is soft—color of night flame & fuzzy. i look people in club. i see c.j. on dance floor with…
? Eduardo Roberto Capitan, 26, 5?8?, 150, Dominican ?
sudden man short, skinny sit in next chair. he pick up rum off table & drink it.
“he-llo? this not your rum!”
“that’s not your seat,” the guy say.
i look chair down, look at man. he laugh, give me his hand.
“i’m george.”
“george, the haitian?”
man eyebrows jump. “i’m famous!” he say & laugh more. I shake him hand & lean front. i look george better.
? George Beuveaux, 24, 5?9?, 169, Haitian ?
in corner of me eye i see bad letters i no want see. letters say—“Assignment.”
“you must be a friend of patrice’s.”
“i am. why you here?”
“what, in this club?”
“no, in this country,” i say.
george give me look funny.
“i’m studying medicine at the university.”
“you know dances?”
“compa, rara, boogaloo? i know many dances.”
“no,” i say with sigh big. “you know dance merengue & salsa?”
“i do,” him say & hold me his hand out again.
i smile & take hand. him take me to floor dance. we fit in space tiny in floor middle. with wink in him eye, george begin the sway. we glide back & front on salsa beat, i think what kind assignment george be. will he be many work or many play? feel like play. i smile big. i close me eyes & listen to salsero song. before leave dance floor, i wipe hand on back of neck wet george. i rub me lips on hand, lick me lips & taste wet george. hunt begin.
After that dance, WaLiLa drank nothing. She wanted no liquids to dilute the tingle of George’s sweat on her tongue. That night, she lay down in her bed & tapped her chest. She touched her finger to the tingling spot on her tongue & transferred the tingle to her chest. She offered the taste as a trail, a scent that her hunterself could use to track George to his home. She freed her hunterself & watched her fly through the slanted glass slats left open for this purpose. WaLiLa closed her eyes & passed all of her energy over to her hunterself. She felt a cool breeze on her face as her hunterself sped through the air in the direction of the sparks that matched the tingling of George’s sweat. The further away WaLiLa’s hunterself flew, the weaker WaLiLa became. Eventually, she slid into unconsciousness. Her hunterself didn’t return until morning. She came back breathless & cold.
air night feel good to me shoulders naked. me & malkai dance to beat merengue. malkai spin me half circle. i can see d.j. i smile to d.j., i want to him—song nice play me. i feel hand malkai on me waist. he spin me in circle again. over shoulder malkai, me eyes see george. i close eyes slow & smile.
“he me assignment,” i whisper malkai.
“
“what mean you?”
“what do i mean? i mean he is going to see straight through you.”
“see straight through me?” i ask. i look down & see me body. it still there. it no leave.
“no,” laugh malkai, “not literally. it is a phrase. it means he will know that you are hiding something, that you are not who you say you are.”
“you no worry on that. humans too separate. they not like people from places other, they not take time to know. they no even know people language in places other. i can say i from part different in haiti & he not know difference.”
“so you got the haitian?”
“yeah.”
we spin circle, malkai look better.
“he looks pretty easy.”
“yeah, who you assignment?”
