Free The Way We Die Now by Charles Willeford Page B

not a yuppie."
    "Ask who they voted for. If they like Ronnie and Nancy Reagan, they're yuppies. It's a simple but effective test."
    "But you voted for Reagan."
    "My vote doesn't count. I didn't vote for Reagan, I voted against Carter. Carter let all those Marielitos in and ruined Miami as a decent place to live. You were still living up in Vero Beach with your mom then, so you don't remember what a pleasant place Miami used to be before they let in all that scum."
    "Maria, my friend at school, is a Marielito, and she isn't scum. She's very nice--"
    "I'm not an absolutist, baby. Some of them are all right, I suppose. But crime's gone up twenty-five percent because of the Marielitos since they got here. I was talking to my partner, Teddy Gonzalez, this morning. I sent him out to Krome yesterday to talk to some Marielitos, and while he was talking to them, one of them stole his wristwatch."
    "Right off his wrist?"
    "Right off his wrist, and he never noticed it."
    "But he already knew that the Cubans at Krome were criminals. He should've checked his valuables at the gate before he talked to them."
    "That's right. When you grow up, I'd like to have you as my partner."
    "When I grow up, I'm gonna marry a rich yuppie, buy a penthouse condo on Grove Isle, and tool around town in a red Ferrari."
    Hoke sighed. "My daughter's a yuppie. Where did I go wrong?"
    Aileen giggled and took his arm. They went out to find his Pontiac in the parking lot.
    Hoke pulled into his driveway at five-thirty. Two latin gardeners were finishing their work on Hutton's yard across the street. They had cut the grass, trimmed the Barbados cherry hedges, and lopped off some of the lower limbs of the smelly melaleuca tree in the front yard. A formidable pile of cuttings was stacked on the grass verge at the curb. The yard looks nice, Hoke thought. If he gives the house a new paint job, at least it will improve the appearance of the neighborhood. But he wasn't going to suggest the idea; the less he had to do with Donald Hutton, the better.
    Ellita met them in the dining room. She had rolled up her long black hair in empty Minute Maid orange juice cans. Ellita had an abundance of hair, and she had used eight cans. Her face was flushed, and her nails, freshly varnished, were the color of arterial blood. Her fingers were spread wide, to allow her nails to dry.
    "Can you baby-sit tonight, Aileen?" Ellita held up her hands, palms outward, fingers spread.
    "I'm supposed to sit for the DeMarcoses tonight."
    "Can't you take Pepe along with you? I've already fed and changed him and prepared a bottle of water and another of orange juice. If he wakes later, you can give him one or the other or both."
    "You and Rosalinda going out?" Hoke asked.
    "Rosalinda got engaged a month ago, Hoke. I told you all about that." Ellita blushed and turned her head away. "I've got a date."
    "You've got a date?" Hoke asked.
    "I'll take care of Pepe," Aileen said. "But I'd better call Mrs. DeMarcos and ask her if it's all right to bring him."
    "I already called her. She doesn't mind. And Sue Ellen will be home later, if you run into any problems."
    "You've got a date?" Hoke asked again.
    "For dinner and a movie. But we're going to the movie first and then out to dinner. -Los Olvidados-, at the Trail. It's an old Bufluel movie he made in Mexico about slum children. And I've never seen it."
    "-Los Olvidados?-"
    "'The Lost Ones.' It's supposed to have a lot of surrealistic symbolism, but I've never seen it."
    "Who're you going with, if not Rosalinda?"
    "I have a date. What do you care?"
    "I don't care. I think it's nice. It's just that you haven't had a date, since, hell, I don't know--"
    "In almost two years. And I don't want you to get all upset about it."
    "I'm not upset. I'm pleased. Why should I get upset?"
    "Good. You'll have to get your own dinner. But there's turkey in the fridge, and you can make sandwiches. There's still enough -Tres Leches- for dessert, and there's ice cream, too. Heath