Another day on the subway.
I moved her dress so I wouldn't sit on it. Black party dress.
"AFRICA!" she shouted, green stuff between her teeth, like seaweed.
"AFRICAAAA!" she called out, too much mascara on Japanese eyes. She looked at me. "We're enemies, I guess."
I shook my head. "We're not enemies."
"Yes we are. You've got blue eyes and I've got brown. That makes us enemies." Her hair black and up in pigtails piled high.
"No it doesn't."
"Yes it does. I'm full-blooded Russian-Japanese. Did you know that?"
"Really?"
She nodded and repeated herself. "I'm full blooded Russian-Japanese. I'm your enemy!"
"I'm not your enemy, though."
"And Africa, she's my baby. I love you Africa! You see they converted. They started in Asia but they converted."
At one point she took my hand. This was difficult because I had a shopping bag around my wrist.
"She's my baby," she repeated. She held my hand and said "You're my baby. You see I'm not afraid anymore.
I love the Africans. But they're afraid. They converted but they were afraid. But I guess they're not afraid now."
"Who's afraid?" I had lost track of the argument.
"The Africans." She took my hand again and smiled. She let it go. "White toilet paper. I got plenty of white toilet paper in my shoes."
And indeed, her little black pumps were in her lap, stuffed with pieces of toilet paper.
I chose not to get off at 34th street, instead to wait for 42nd.
"Gettin' dirty is the hardest thing to do in the world." she expliained.
"No it's not." I said. "It's very easy."
"No, gettin' dirty is the hardest thing in the whole world."
"It's really easy, I think."
"No it's not."
"This is my stop. You be careful out there."
"Africa!" She touched my hand again as I got up.
"You be careful."
"I love you!" She gave me her seaweed smile again as I walked out, feeling kissed by the Moon.
"AFRICA!" she shouted, green stuff between her teeth, like seaweed.
"AFRICAAAA!" she called out, too much mascara on Japanese eyes. She looked at me. "We're enemies, I guess."
I shook my head. "We're not enemies."
"Yes we are. You've got blue eyes and I've got brown. That makes us enemies." Her hair black and up in pigtails piled high.
"No it doesn't."
"Yes it does. I'm full-blooded Russian-Japanese. Did you know that?"
"Really?"
She nodded and repeated herself. "I'm full blooded Russian-Japanese. I'm your enemy!"
"I'm not your enemy, though."
"And Africa, she's my baby. I love you Africa! You see they converted. They started in Asia but they converted."
At one point she took my hand. This was difficult because I had a shopping bag around my wrist.
"She's my baby," she repeated. She held my hand and said "You're my baby. You see I'm not afraid anymore.
I love the Africans. But they're afraid. They converted but they were afraid. But I guess they're not afraid now."
"Who's afraid?" I had lost track of the argument.
"The Africans." She took my hand again and smiled. She let it go. "White toilet paper. I got plenty of white toilet paper in my shoes."
And indeed, her little black pumps were in her lap, stuffed with pieces of toilet paper.
I chose not to get off at 34th street, instead to wait for 42nd.
"Gettin' dirty is the hardest thing to do in the world." she expliained.
"No it's not." I said. "It's very easy."
"No, gettin' dirty is the hardest thing in the whole world."
"It's really easy, I think."
"No it's not."
"This is my stop. You be careful out there."
"Africa!" She touched my hand again as I got up.
"You be careful."
"I love you!" She gave me her seaweed smile again as I walked out, feeling kissed by the Moon.