Inside, a skinny Mexican... «The Pale-Faced Lie»
cat_on_the_shelf22 января 2022Inside, a skinny Mexican man with large brown eyes and aviator glasses greeted us with a wide smile from behind the counter. “I’m Ray Pino,” he said with a huge laugh, a cigarette dangling from his thin mustached lips. “I haven’t seen you boys before. Did you just move here?” He sounded like a big kid, excited to meet us.
“Yeah, about a week ago,” I said. “We’re looking for firecrackers and big action.”
Sam giggled, and I shot him a dirty look. He always did that when I tried sounding older, not helping either one of us.
Mr. Pino waved his hand, motioning for us to follow him. “I’ve got something you might like.” He laughed so hard his head shook and ashes from his cigarette sprinkled onto the concrete floor. His Wrangler jeans bagged around his skinny legs as he ambled to the back of the store, sidestepping boxes of curios. He stopped in front of cartons of Roman candles, sparklers, Whistling Jupiter rockets, and Black Cat firecrackers. I’d never seen anything so wonderful.
“I like fireworks and always keep a good supply.” Mr. Pino chuckled and slapped his knee. “These red donut-hole-sized balls are called cherry bombs.” He held one up and made an explosion sound with his mouth. “You’ll like these babies but be careful. If one blows up in your hand, it’ll take off a few fingers.”
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