Chapter 62

           Itwashotthatnightatthereading,whichwastobeheldatSt.Mark’sChurch.TammieandIsatinwhatwasusedasthedressingroom.Tammiefoundafull-lengthmirrorleaningagainstthewallandbegancombingherhair.Marshalltookmeoutinbackofthechurch.Theyhadaburialgroundbackthere.Littlecementtombstonessatontheearthandcarvedonthetombstoneswereinscriptions.Marshallwalkedmearoundandshowedmetheinscriptions.Ialwaysgotnervousbeforeareading,verytenseandunhappy.Ialmostalwaysvomited.ThenIdid.Ivomitedononeofthegraves.

           "YoujustvomitedonPeterStuyvesant,"Marshallsaid.

           Iwalkedbackintothedressingroom.Tammiewasstilllookingatherselfinthemirror.Shelookedatherfaceandherbody,butmostlyshewasworriedaboutherhair.Shepileditontopofherhead,lookedatitthatwayandthenletitfallbackdown.

           Marshallputhisheadintotheroom."Comeon,they’rewait-ing!"

           "Tammie’snotready,"Itoldhim.

           Thenshepiledherhairupontopofherheadagainandlookedatherself.Thensheletitfall.Thenshestoodclosetothemirrorandlookedathereyes.

           Marshallknocked,thencamein."Comeon,Chinaski!"

           "Comeon,Tammie,let’sgo."

           "Allright."

           IwalkedoutwithTammieatmyelbow.Theystartedapplauding.TheoldChinaskibullshitwasworking.TammiewentdownintothecrowdandIstartedtoread.Ihadmanybeersinanicebucket.Ihadoldpoemsandnewpoems.Icouldn’tmiss.IhadSt.Mark’sbythecross.

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