* * *
—
“Jesus Christ!” Cronley wheezed, out of breath, when he rolled off Ginger five minutes later.
“Yeah, Jesus Christ. Can I assume that I passed the test?”
“You get both ears and the tail.”
He spread his arms, and she crawled into them.
“I always knew I loved you, Jimmy. But until just now, when I felt you in me, I really didn’t know how much.”
After perhaps sixty seconds of the only sound being Jimmy’s labored breathing, she said, “It’s now your turn to say something. Preferably, something nice.”
“I was wondering what to say.”
“‘I love you, too,’ would be nice.”
“I mean to our parents, to Clete—to everybody. Last night, you had barely forgiven me for getting Bonehead whacked, and, at breakfast, we’re a couple of lovebirds. They’re going to know something happened. I don’t give a damn what they think, but you?”
“I don’t give a damn either. But you’re right. So, during the day you will slowly discover that I am an attractive, unattached woman, and I will slowly stop resisting your unwanted attentions. And at night I will sneak into your bedroom, and we will screw the brains out of each other.”
“That’ll probably work.”
“Are you going to say it now?”
“You mean say that I love you? Why? I think you’ve known that all along.”
“Say it, damn you, Jimmy!”
He did.
And then she rolled onto her back and pulled him to her.
II
[ONE]
4730 Avenida del Libertador General San Martín
Buenos Aires, Argentina
0315 11 April 1946
Cletus Frade opened the door to Uncle Willy’s bedroom, flipped on the lights, and shouted, “Drop your cock and pick up your socks—we’ve gotta go!”
Startled awake, the baby started to howl.
Ginger, naked, jumped out of bed to comfort him.
Cronley said, “Oh, shit!”
“Just to clear the air,” Frade announced, his back now turned to them, “I have just been stricken by temporary blindness. When you get your pants on, Romeo, have a look at these.”
He tossed two teletypewriter printouts on the floor and then went back out the door.
Cronley, in his birthday suit, went to the printouts and picked them up.