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Show Flying - 19 CHAPTER II John Henry Pierson walks down a dirt street in Ciudad Acuna, Mexico, just across the Rio Grande from Texas, wearing a dirty white shirt, grease-stained white pants and black army shoes dusty and cracked across the Instep. Very cold, John Henry, at three o'clock on this fine morning, and not at all lecherous, his last night's lust well spent. Whores call out to one another across the narrow street. They stand sheltered in the doorways of bars and their quick hands reach out for John Henry as he walks by. They reach for his belt to drag him in, and for his crotch to entice him. One reaches for his wallet and he gently pushes her hand away. Come to us, John Henry. We will love you. After he goes by they call him queer and spit in the dirt behind him. It is early August and far south, but it is the desert and the night is cold. Inside the bars is warmth, singing and dancing and good Mexican beer, but there the whores are also, and tired John Henry walks down the middle of the street looking for a place to sleep and twisting away from the hungry hands of Mexican whores. He comes to the end of the street and starts to walk on past the last bar, but a fat cop in khaki steps out of the shadows and motions him back, takes him gently by the arm |