Paul Pen [Pen - Under the Water

OTHER TITLES BY PAUL PEN

The Light of the Fireflies

Desert Flowers

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Text copyright 2019 by Paul Pen

Translation copyright 2019 by Simon Bruni

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Previously published as Un matrimonio perfecto by Plaza y Jans in Spain in 2019. Translated from Spanish by Simon Bruni. First published in English by AmazonCrossing in 2019.

Published by AmazonCrossing, Seattle

www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and AmazonCrossing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-13: 9781542042062

ISBN-10: 1542042062

Cover design by David Drummond

CONTENTS

The young woman appeared with the rain. Luis saw her turn the street corner the moment it began to pour down, when the drops were visible in the bright halos of the streetlights. Soon puddles formed, reflecting the light from the same streetlights, from the green traffic lights, and from the burger-shaped neon sign above Luis. The woman walked along the opposite sidewalk, skirting a large block of apartment buildings. At this time of night, the lights were off in almost every window. Even the bars that occupied the ground floors had closed a while ago. Her pace was slow. She didnt bother to take cover from the rain under a roof or protect herself with an umbrella.

Youre gonna get soaked! Luis yelled from where he stood at the counter under the neon burger sign.

Beside him, with a spatula in his hand, Ray laughed when he saw her jump. She put her hood up, as if shed just remembered that her sweatshirt had one. The light gray of the cotton darkened as the rain soaked it. The woman looked at them from the other side of the street. Her silhouette was bent over, her hands in her sweatshirt pockets as if she was holding on to them to stop herself from falling. They couldnt make out her face in the shadows under the hoodonly a bright spot that emerged from them that could have been her nose.

Drunk or high? Luis asked in a low voice.

Drunk, Ray guessed, his elbows on the counter. And a little crazy. But fuckable, and thats what matters.

The neon, or perhaps the smell of the onions on the grill that seduced the hungry drunks who came out from nearby bars, must have caught the attention of the woman, who turned to cross the street. She did so without looking. A car avoided her with an angry blast of the horn. The driver yelled an insult at her through the window, stopping under the traffic light whose reflection in a puddle dissolved when the girl trod in it in her black Converse shoes.

Seeing her approach, Ray straightened.

Good luck, he whispered, before escaping to the grill.

From there, the cook would shoot his mouth off about customers who couldnt see or hear him. The idling generator, the hum of the neon, and the music from the radio on the counter insulated them from him, so they could hear none of the offensive remarks Ray made about them for Luiss supposed enjoyment. In reality, Luis did not find them very funny. His coworker sometimes forgot that he was a son of Mexican immigrants.

Before the young woman reached them, Luis turned a wet handle to unroll the awning that covered the bar and two stools on the street. Water that had gathered on the canvas trickled onto a power strip on the counter, to which the neon sign and the radio were connected. Yellow and blue sparks crackled and gave off a burning smell, different from the one coming from the grill.

Welcome to the best food truck in Seattle. Those were fireworks to celebrate your arrival, Luis joked to play down the dangerous wiring. Little wet, huh?

The woman didnt respond. She sat on one of the stools without drying it. Luis wiped the counter, the bar, the laminated menus, the ketchup and mustard bottles. She sat looking at the ground with her hands between her knees. She was clutching her sweatshirts cuffs with her fingers, hiding her hands as if she was cold.

You all right? asked Luis.

The light inside the van softened the shadows under her hood, revealing her face. She was much prettier than hed expected. The neon created an optical illusion on her pale skin, like makeup outlining her cheeks in orange and accentuating the curvature of her top lip, the volume of her lower one. Her pronounced nose didnt make her ugly in the leastit only added character. Luis guessed she was around his age, about twenty-five.

Told you shed be fuckable, Ray declared from the privacy of the grill at the back of the truck.

The stream of obscenities had begun. The sound of the rain would hide Rays off-color commentary even more, but to make sure the girl didnt hear it, Luis turned up the radio. In the early hours, they tuned it to a station that played melodic soft classics that helped make the atmosphere more relaxed and dampened the spirits of passersby wanting to carry on the party. Now it was playing something by the Carpenters. On tiptoes to reach the set above him, Luiss eyes flicked to the open zipper on the womans sweatshirt. He discovered that she had nothing on underneath. Her hair, divided into two parts on either side of her neck, dripped water onto the material over her breasts. The way the wet cotton clung to her nipples confirmed her nudity. Her hair seemed wetter than the rain would have made itit hadnt been raining long enough to soak it this much.

Hey, seriously, you OK? he persisted.

Amigo, said Ray, showing that he did in fact remember Luiss Mexican heritage. You need to stop worrying so much about everyone else.

Luis could easily imagine a group of the girls friends wetting her head in the bathroom of one of the bars that had closed an hour ago, to sober her up. Then they wouldve dried it for her with her own T-shirt and put the sweatshirt on her so she didnt have to wear wet clothes. Of course, if they were such good friends, they could have walked her home instead of letting her go on her own, at the mercy of a ravenous alcoholic stomach.

Hungry. It was the first word she said, almost confirming Luiss thoughts. Im hungry.

The young woman looked at him with eyes of a blue so light it seemed gray. Luis wondered if that was how she saw the world right now: gray and plunged into some profound state of gloom. Luis could smell a few beers on her breath as she spoke. A few chasers, maybe. Some shots of tequila. A year serving late-night burgers on the street refined ones ability to detect alcohol. No wonder she was acting so strange, if shed had that much to drink.

Then youve come to the perfect place, Luis said.

He offered her two laminated menus, one with pictures of burgers and the other of milkshakes. She gestured at the former without letting go of the sweatshirts cuff. She didnt let go to pick up the menu, either, preferring to let Luis leave it on the bar. After glancing at the options, she chose the regular burger.