122 Of Meat and Money (1/2)
The sun was already beginning to set as they sat down to eat. The world took on a golden hue: Li Yang was reminded of the advertising posters in the old days, with beautiful happy young people cavorting on sandy beaches, each holding a bottle of Buy-This-Right-Now soda.
The waiting food looked even better. Three picnic tables had been set together end to end, and there was hardly any space between tin trays piled high with meat, bowls of potatoes and corn, and jars of pickles. Li Yang's mouth was full of saliva, and so was Jake's - Li Yang heard him swallow a couple of times.
”Sit down, sit down,” said Jimmy. ”Where are the plates? Janice! The plates and forks and knives, now! No no no, guys, y'all sit on one side of the table and we'll sit on the other. That way, we'll get to know each other real fast. Harper, you sit near that end; I'll be across from you.”
”Where are you going?” asked Harper.
”To tell the Poet everything's ready. Be right back.”
”This is the America I like. The land of meat and money,” said Olga. She quickly took a seat at the table.
Li Yang and Jake chose to sit at the other end from Harper. Li Yang had Jake to his right, and Olga to his left. He would have preferred Charlene, but she sat down next to her brother. They immediately started a whispered conversation.
”Wow,” said Jake. ”Just wow.” He was staring at the pile of meat on the tray right in front of him. The pieces were all shapes and sizes, all colored a dark, angry red streaked black from being cooked over an open fire. Li Yang was very tempted to grab a small piece, and stuff it in his mouth.
”Looks good, doesn't it,” said Jake. ”Hey! Look at that.”
Li Yang turned his head. A small procession was approaching. At its front, Bud and a white guy Li Yang hadn't seen before were carrying folded director's chairs - they rushed forward to unfold and set them down, one at each end of the long table. They were followed by Linda and Janice carrying paper plates and cutlery and rolls of paper towels. The rear was brought up by the black guy they'd seen with Bud upon arrival; he was bearing two half-gallon jugs of red wine and a stack of waxed paper cups.
”This is a fucking feast,” said Jake, with wonder in his voice.
”It's not every day that we have visitors,” said Bud. He was standing next to Jake, dusting the canvas backrest of the chair he'd just set down with the back of his hand. He gave it one final slap, and added:
”Great, the Poet's here. We can get down to business.”
Li Yang's view was blocked by Olga: he leaned forward, and looked.
He stopped by the director's chair at the far end of the table and said:
”Thank you, Billy Joe.”
Then he sat down, with Harper on his right and Jimmy on his left, and reached out and grabbed a cob of corn. It was a signal for intense action.
Li Yang opted to start with meat. It was quite tough, and had a slightly bitter taste, like a blade of grass that has been chewed for too long. But it made a wonderful change from the military rations, and the boiled potatoes and corn and everything else was wonderful, too. Li Yang ate like an automaton, pausing only to sigh with contentment. He had a surprise when Janice, seated across from him, filled and put a paper cup of wine in front of him.
”You can drink my wine,” he said to Jake.
”I sure will.”
”You don't like wine?” asked Janice.
”I don't drink alcohol.”
”No kidding,” said Janice. ”Do you smoke pot?”
”No.”
”Do any drug at all?”
”No.”
”Do you fuck?”
Li Yang was silent. Janice giggled.
”Sorry,” she said. ”It kinda slipped out.” She turned to Jake and said:
”Your friend belongs to a monastic order or something like that?”
”What's a monastic order?” said Jake, his face blank.
”Never mind.”
Li Yang definitely didn't. He was happy. He hadn't imagined a welcome like that in his wildest dreams. There he was, stuffing himself stupid on a beautiful evening, as warm as if it were spring, surrounded by friends and trees and bushes that were beginning to sprout new leaves - this was so much better than New York!
He was reaching to grab a fresh piece of meat when a deep, beautiful male voice said:
”May I have your attention, please. Everyone. May I have your attention please.”
Every head swiveled to look at the head of the table. Li Yang was shocked. The voice belonged to the man everyone called the Poet! The way he looked, he should have sounded thin and reedy.