Estoy en mi caja familiar, en la coche.
"Are you ready? Okay, I'm letting her out."
Veo la caja de arena. Por el dios del osito Bimbo, pero cada vez voy en la coche, debo hacer pipi. Pues, uso la arena, y subido a la silla frente y sentarme.
"No, she's fine." He powered down the window partway, enough to let his hand ride in the breeze. "Hey, go down Milk; let's get a sixer."
"Good idea!" He and she sat in the car while the driver went into the corner store, sat there watching as she chatted with the crowd of men running the register while the skinny guy with the glasses bagged the beer and she came out. They headed for the freeway.
Nunca se a donde vamos, o cuanto tiempo estaremos. Esta bien. Me gusta la coche, la carretera. La coche, mi caja, la lluvia— me recuerdan mi nuevo hogar anterior. Y aqui tengo dos de las tres. Esta bien.
"I told you she'd be fine."
They pulled into the lot, not full, but not even close to being empty, even though the building it fronted had been closed a good hour. They parked, put the windows up most of the way, got out, and wandered into the crowd.
Pinche! No me gusta sentada solo en la coche parqueado. Subiendo abajo la silla! ...quiet... Ay! han vuelto, y...tacos! Tienen tacos. Ratas calientes!
Salto en el frente!
"Ha! Tortilla Girl wants her share." He took part of the warm, fried tortilla, tore it into bits, put it and a piece of carnitas on a napkin and placed it on the dashboard. "Look, she's ignoring the meat!" He put more tortilla on the napkin and took back the carnitas. The three of them ate tacos, seats back, Mexican radio played low. They watched the cat watch them, asking "Do you think she..."
...faltan Oaxaca? Pienso que...