Orpheus - Haunting the Dead.pdf - Dice

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DIA DE LOS MUERTOSAUNTING THE DEAD
“You can see me?” Eileen asked, knowing that she
was still invisible.
“Of course I can see you, puta,” the girl replied. Her
face was drawn and thin. Dark circles shadowed her
eyes and a thin dribble of spit trailed from one corner
of her mouth. “The sacrament gives me the power to
see the spirits—even spirits of evil like you!”
“Sacrament?” Eileen asked. What are you talking
about? Who are you?”
“I owe no explanations to blanca scum like you.”
Eileen looked closer at the girl. Her pupils were dilated
and her face was filthy. She was wearing faded blue
jeans and expensive work boots that looked as if they
had never actually seen a day of hard work. A thin Tshirt
bearing a picture of Che Guevara had been pulled
over her spare frame, and a beat-up denim jacket
sporting a number of buttons covered it.
Looking closer, Eileen saw some of the buttons had
images—the faces of John Lennon and Fidel Castro, a
striped rainbow, a black fist and a stepped pyramid.
Other buttons had slogans including YANQUI GO HOME!,
U.S. OUT OF NORTH AMERICA, INTERNATIONAL
A.N.S.W.E.R., ANOTHER WORLD IS POSSIBLE and FOR
THE RACE, EVERYTHING, OUTSIDE THE RACE, NOTHING!
The other accessory she wore looked fresher—blood
splashed over her clothes and hands, and not the dark
jelly of Eileen’s ghostly breast.
“Blanca?” Teo said, spinning the girl around and
staring into her eyes. “You might want to look a little
closer at me.”
The girl’s expression of hatred changed slightly,
now modified with a tinge of disgust. “You’re worse
than the Euro! You are a bronze traitor, like La
Malinche—Cortez’s whore. Nothing but a lapdog for
our oppressors.”
“Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?”
Teo asked, turning the girl back around.
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