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it was about bloody time.
Hal? Frank demanded sharply into the phone.
Hey there, Pop s, Hal replied as if he didn t have a care in the
world. His voice sounded clear.
So, Frank insisted, what s going on?
Is that all you care about, Frank? he clucked his tongue. You
don t want to know how I m doing& if I have a suntan or&
Don t be an asshole. I ve been waiting for you to call. Why in hell
didn t you call me before this? It s been almost a month.
I didn t have anything to tell you.
Well, I assume you do now?
Yep. Our boy has made it to pre-first base.
English, please?
He s working in the man s house.
Oh? How did you manage that?
A vacancy came up suddenly. The guy who worked there before
had a little accident.
What kind of an accident? Frank gripped the phone.
He ran into a rope that tangled around his neck and hung himself
in a tree. Tragic, Hal mocked.
You are one sick bastard! Frank told him softly.
Did the trick, he cooed, his voice thick with sarcastic sentiment,
It created a vacancy. It also offered the two of them a meaningful
shared experience, which in my mind can only draw two souls
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Arsenic and Rio
together. Then he laughed harshly and said, Don t worry, Frank, he ll
be fucking Marshall s brains out any day now.
Frank closed his eyes in distaste. Hal, why in the hell do you need
to be so crude all the time?
You know, you re one funny guy, Frank. Anything goes with you as
long as you don t have to hear about it, Hal laughed.
Okay, enough said on the phone. Call me when more progress is
made. You are keeping an eye on him?
Of course, Hal replied. I ll call you when I have something else
to tell you. Bye, he said and hung up.
Frank sighed and put down the phone. He sat in his chair and
rubbed his chin. It was going well. He needed to relax and stop
worrying. He looked at the calendar on his desk. This had better work,
or he was finished.
109
DJ Manly
Chapter 31
arshall was dismayed to see Ricardo Hernandez sitting in the
M
living room when he came out of Angelo s bedroom. Ricardo
Hernandez gave him a cold stare as he passed by him on his way to the
patio door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Angelo sitting
outside drinking coffee. He was talking in Italian on his cell phone.
Angelo looked up at him as he came outside and motioned with his
hand. Marshall smiled at him, closing the door behind him.
He sat down and helped himself to coffee and fruit, listening as
Angelo spoke in Italian. He understood most of what he said, except
when he spoke too quickly. Italian had been the first language he
learned in childhood, but he hadn t spoken it for years. He spoke
much better French than Italian.
Angelo was laughing. Obviously he was speaking with someone he
liked. He was saying something about the university and being crazy.
Finally, he said in English, Okay, got to go, Victor. Take care, and
send me an email. Chow, he said and put down the phone. Sorry
about that, he said, glancing at Marshall.
No problem. You miss Rome, Angelo? Marshall asked him,
reaching for a banana.
Angelo nodded. Desperately. Don t get me wrong, Brazil is
beautiful but it s not home.
Suddenly Angelo s grandmother came around the corner with a
bunch of flowers in her hand. She glanced at the two men, made a
sound of disapproval in her throat and went inside.
Marshall shook his head. Your grandmother& she doesn t seem
to& well, like you much. Are you close?
Angelo laughed. Good God, no. I think she hates me even more
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Arsenic and Rio
than Ricardo does.
Doesn t it bother you that you re& well& how come? I mean, I
guess I don t understand it. It s none of my business really, Marshall
muttered, taking a bite of his banana and eyeing a ripe peach.
It s perfectly normal that you would find us a curious bunch. Now
that you will be working here, I might as well tell you the true story
before you get everyone else s version of it. This family has provided
the evening gossip for generations from here to Santa Branca.
Marshall wiped his mouth on a napkin and met his eyes. He smiled
faintly. Tell me only if you want to.
He shrugged. It s no secret. I guess you realize these are my
maternal relatives.
Yes, that woman is your mother s mother, right?
Correct. This place has been in the hands of the Hernadez family
for four generations. My grandfather was a pure capitalist, he valued
money and power above all things except for one, my mother. My
mother was his only child and he was very possessive of her.
So Ricardo is your great uncle, right? Marshall asked.
Yes, the youngest brother of my grandfather.
Cruz told me that. So how did your mother and father meet? He
wasn t from Brazil, was he?
No. Italy. My father met my mother much the same way you have
met me, he laughed. My father was travelling around and he needed
money so he got a job in the coffee fields here on the plantation.
Ah, so they met and fell in love here?
Yes, but they had to meet secretly because of my grandfather. He
did not approve of her being with a poor Italian boy, a common
labourer. Well, to make a long story short, she got pregnant with me
and they ran off together to Rome where I was born.
How romantic. She must have been so in love with your father.
Angelo nodded. Yes, so people tell me. It was not common for a
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