Thread: Chasing Buffalo (Praxis x Dane Stalling)

Rudy had a lot to learn about reading. Meredith half listened to his voice at the back of the crowd as she swiped left, left, left. She'd heard him read it so many times she had it memorized. He should be toning it down though. People wanted to co-create the emotional experience. Excuse me, a man said, I need to buy all your books. She didn't recognize him, but she knew his type immediately. He was immaculately put together, expensively so, but his hair was blown. They were in the same tribe, facilitators, connectors, mavens. And he was managing a crisis, or he never would have had a small piece of leaf stuck to his shoelace. She could tell that until ten minutes ago, at the outside, his hair had been perfect. And he had made her too. Agents. And he wanted to buy. Of course, she said smoothly, trying not to let too much of her elation show. For whom do these need to be signed? He moved in a little closer. I'm with the Healey organization, he said, and she wants them all. Twice. Bridgette Healey. She didn't fit the target audience, but hell, her money was as green as all these activists. Twice as green. I hope you have a dolly. There are ninety in the boxes, she said, and the store can deliver the rest wherever you like. They're 19.99, but I'll round up because I like you. You've got 3,600 in change, right? Five or six copies had been sold out of the top box, but those were just the beginning. Meredith expected to sell thirty, maybe, to the crowd here. It would have covered lunch and gas anyway. This was much better. The Chicanos could find their copies somewhere else. We appreciate your business, Mr... ? Burke. Arthur Burke. Mr. Burke. I'm Meredith Garcia, Mr. Espinoza's agent. I wasn't aware that Ms. Healey was interested in Rudy's work. The fractional pause told her everything. He didn't know either. This was some celebrity mania, an impulsive and probably fleeting idea that he had to handle and make disappear. She has... influences sometimes that we are not aware of. It is kind of you to accommodate. Meredith nodded. Contact needed to continue if they wanted to profit from her obsession du jour. Obviously, Mr. Espinoza would be happy to thank her personally for her interest. He will be most grateful. She handed him her card and smiled. ---- The fuck? Rudolfo glared at Meredith. Where are the books? They're on order. The store will deliver. How the hell am I supposed to sign books that get shipped from some depot in New Mexico? The crowd wasn't dissipating like it normally did. People stood around with twenties folded up between their fingers. There was significant interest from an outside party. There he goes now, Meredith said, waving at Mr. Burke as he struggled with the boxes of books just outside the store window. This has been a very successful reading, Rudy. Rudolfo turned to the curious eyes behind him. They were his people and they wanted... no. They needed his words, his father's words. Come with me, he said, and ran out of the store. The man with the boxes was sweating already. Rudolfo grabbed his lapel. Who bought these? he said. Are you trying to suppress my father's voice? Are you trying to silence the Chicano people? No... please, Arthur said, putting the boxes down, They're for an admirer of yours. A fan. My fans are not faceless, Rudolfo said, They are not figments of imagination or shadow people. You paid for these, yes? Arthur nodded. Well, my fan only has one pair of eyes. Rudolfo opened the top box and took out a book. He handed it to a black-haired woman standing close behind him. Compliments of my fan, he said. He picked up another book and handed it to a young man with a red bandana around his neck. There were still a few books left in the second box when he was done. The man had burbled and protested. Weak bleatings. Meredith kept up some boring monologue about contracts and the rights of buyers. She knew nothing about changing worlds. She had a mind that ended at money. In the end, Rudolfo narrowed his eyes at her and shouted, If my admirer wants to charge me, I'll pay. If he sues me, I'll pay. But if he's just trying to keep these thoughts off the street, out of the public, and off the market, he can go fuck himself in a cactus patch. This generated sparse clapping from the few of his audience that remained. The man picked up a book. I'm Arthur Burke, he said, will you sign this one for Bridgette Healey? Rudolfo picked a black pen out of his pocket and wrote, Bridgette, thank you for the kind gift of fifty seven books to people who will actually read them. Rudolfo Espinoza