Chapter 6: Dias de los MuertosMiss Rose was cleaning Gustavo’s wounds as best she could the next morning. “I used to do this for soldiers down in Texas during the war.” She was likely trying to distract him with words. “I was a just little girl, but people my color and yours, we helped where we could.”
Gustavo hissed when the swab touched broken flesh.
“I should have gotten after these right away.” Miss Rose used liquor for the cuts and scrapes and some sort of oil on the burns.
“I ain’t matter, Rose. Just Alfie.”
“You matter to him.”
They sat on a tufted red velvet chaise below a gas flame wall sconce in the upstairs hallway permeated with cigar smoke, s*x, and a huge bouquet of flowers spilling out of a crystal vase on a round, black table. The door behind them, closed to the room i
