Re: AHS: Sam A & Cris M
The Grand Canyon wasn't a place Cris had ever made it to. Even his honeymoon had been in the state of New York. But, he'd wanted to go, and he liked how enthusiastic she was about it. Grow up in the city and you didn't hear much excitement that didn't go along with the Yankees, the Giants, the Mets, the Knicks, the Devils, etc.; everything was painted with India ink and bleakness. The hipsters flocked to it like moths to mustachioed flame. The cure of Sam's voice, all that earnestness, got another smile, not a bland thing of humoring someone, but something that maybe strayed a little into admiration.
"Yeah." He knew what she meant by alive. Like, yours wasn't the only heartbeat. You could hear the grass moving against itself, crickets singing, water washing, some breeze playing in boughs above. It was different than the creaks and aches of a city at rest—the sort of clangor heard when you tried to sleep on the fire escape. A woman with long, loose hair danced salsa across the street, her lights on and yellow, blinds like broken teeth, hardly a stitch on in the heat. A TV screamed downstairs with static and choked out segments of TV Mujer. Men argued on the corner. Somewhere an ambulance wailed. Yeah, people drowned out the Life Sam was talking about.
The question about the woman in the accidentally exhumed memory didn't take Cris by surprise. He knew by now she caught on quick. He flashed her a small smile as the road rounded.
"Otra persona," the man said in the face of the sun as it drew downward. The carnival blinkered ahead, a little mirage of electric lights in the wasteland that was Florida, everything shimmering and dancing in the press of omnipresent heat.
Sam's kick to his thigh and her curse got another laugh. Cris didn't say anything else about it, not then, as the pavement gave way to chalky gravel and bedded grass. He pulled the car up where she told him, shifted to reverse and engaged the parking brake. He cut the engine in a choke of keys.—Pulling them from the ignition, he tossed the set to Sam. He didn't bother with the windows.
He stopped for his hat and jacket.
"You let me know about your painting," said Cris as he walked to the passenger door. He held out an arm for a casual sort of embrace.