The Mortal Nuts Read Online Free PDF

her—seventy-three years old, probably hadn’t got it up in decades.
    The hair was nice. Carmen wrapped a thick strand around her index finger, let it fall free. The strand remained curled for a moment, then slowly unwound. Good hair. But it wasn’t the hair men looked at. It was the boobs. Axel probably wouldn’t notice if she shaved her head like Dean. God, what a strange guy that James Dean was. A good guy to know, always bringing her stuff, but weird-looking and sort of spooky. All he ever wanted to do was go back to her place and fuck. He seemed to think he was her boyfriend or something.
    She had met Dean only a couple of months before, through his sister, Mickey, another student at Eastern Nebraska Institute of Medical Specialties. One night Carmen and Mickey and a couple of the other students had gone across the street to Bailey’s Pub, and Dean had joined them. Carmen remembered her first impression: What a geek! Since then, Dean had popped up with increasing frequency, and she’d gotten used to his appearance. She thought it was interesting that he’d been to prison. Thirty months on a drug rap, he’d told her. They’d gone out dancing a few times. Dean had a peculiar style, bouncing around like a barefooted kid on a hot sidewalk. It was embarrassing. His performance in the bedroom was similar—frantic and arrhythmic. The guy didn’t even have a car.
    Thinking about Dean recalled the image of the blue Valium tablets in her carry-on bag. The thought sent a smooth wave rolling down her spine. A definite plus, where Dean was concerned. The Valiums would get her through the ordeal to come. The memory of the smell of the Taco Shop assaulted her: twelve days of hot grease, taco sauce, Sophie, and Axel Speeter. She shivered and dug in her purse, looking for a Tic Tac or something. It seemed unreal, almost impossible to believe that she was going back to do another season at the Minnesota State Fair. For a lousy six bucks an hour, plus whatever fell out of the till. A cash business like that, what did he expect?
    There was one Tic Tac way down in the corner, covered with lint. Carmen dipped it in her drink and wiped it off with a little square napkin from the bar. She inspected the mint, popped it in her mouth, and looked up. The bartender, older and balder even than Axel, watched her. The Tic Tac was wintergreen, her favorite. She finished the Rob Roy and ordered a gin and tonic. How did Sophie stand it, having dinner with Axel every Sunday all year long? For that matter, how did Axel stand being around Sophie all that time? Carmen recalled the red mole on Axel’s left eyelid, its three white hairs, and the smell of Mennen Skin Bracer. One thing about Axel, he smelled okay in spite of being seventy-three, which was in Carmen’s view the next thing to having died already.
    The second drink pushed Axel and Sophie to a small stage at the back of her mind. One more and they would become like characters in a movie. Then, if she got really loaded, it would be like they were characters in a movie she had heard about but never seen. Her shoulder muscles relaxed, and she smiled. Carmen was good at imagining, making movies in her head. She imagined herself driving, a red Corvette with the top down and the stereo turned way, way up. Where was she going? Puerto Penasco? That sounded good. Who was that in the passenger seat? James Dean. No, change that. She looked again. It was still James Dean, but not the bald one. It was the dead one, the rebel without a cause, one sneakered foot propped on the dash, squinting at the horizon. She imagined coffee cans in the trunk, filled with fat, rubber-banded rolls of money. Hundred-dollar bills. That would be the way to live. She tried to recall whose picture was on the hundred. The face that swam into view looked a lot like Axel Speeter.

Chapter 5
    â€œIt looks like a junkyard, Sam. I can’t believe they let you do this.”
    â€œNone