In Combes, Sissy Estrada Waits On Tribune Editor Patrick Alcatraz...No Thoughts On Boyfriend Junior Bonner...

"Samuel Johnson defines the novel as a 'small tale, generally of love.' The French say, 'without adultery, there is no novel.' Who am I to disagree?..." - Patrick Alcatraz

By NICK YEMANA
Special to The Tribune

COMBES, Texas - Sissy Estrada was up for the attention. Patrick Alcatraz had gifted her with a day at the beauty spa and she had not only said yes, but happily looked forward to the make-over. Somewhere across the northern Atlantic Ocean, her beau - Junior Bonner - stayed on the trail of his friend Ron Mexico's killers, oblivious to his girlfriend's new flirattions. Amsterdam in late-September wasn't all that bad of a place to be; he had his furry Russian hat and gloves at the ready for the first snowfall. It ain't my homeland Western Colorado, but it sho 'nuff is purty, he told himself as evening fell.

In South Texas, Sissy looked at herself in the large mirror she'd purchased for her bedroom inside the doublewide mobile home she now, it seemed, shared with Tribune Editor Alcatraz, a man she said had the strength of a panther in the sack. "Not bad at all," she said, looking at herself from head to toe, stopping to focus on the new shoes and underclothing Patrick had purchased for her online from Victoria's Secret and some Parisian shoe store. Junior Bonner had never done such things, giving her only a blue jean jacket and three pairs of blue jeans with accompanying blouses he had bought for her on sale at Mervyn's Department Store in McAllen.

"Mervyn's," she said, "...Mervyn's? Oh, boy...Mervyn's!"

That cowboy Junior would fade, was her feeling as she sat back on the old couch and looked at herself on the mirror across the room once more. For effect, and really to know what it was Patrick would be seeing later that night, she lowered her black sports bra and scoped her breasts, nipples especially. Patrick could spend hours on her breasts, is what she knew. It had become clear to Sissy that Junior was no Patrick; that, although both were men, sex-explorer Patrick brought her a little more adventure in the sack. This, she said aloud, is not about faithfulness or any such rot. This is about a woman perhaps finding the one man that made life and all it entails worth living, battling.

Sissy rose sexily and stood in front of the mirror briefly before walking into the living room to conduct an interview with this reporter.

"I don't know if it's over with Junior," she said right-off. "Exactly how does a woman ever know things are done with a man? Short of being murdered, I mean..."

The telephone rang.

"Yes, I love the clothes," she cooed into the receiver. "...Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

She said something about keeping the fires burning and then hung up the phone.

"Any other questions?" she asked. "No, right? - I knew it. Gotta go bathe, but, anyway, thanks for coming by..."

Junior's latest photo had been of a new car he had purchased in Amsterdam, a big, American car he would use to hunt down Ron's killers. The color sucked, was what Sissy had thought at seeing it, not that she cared..

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