VIII
Pablo winced the moment Dale opened the door. The stench was literally piercing his eyes. He stood outside for a second or two, pushing back and preventing the bread he ate for breakfast from flushing out. "Dios mio," Pablo whispered to himself. The horrifying smell wafted through the stale air as he entered the apartment. If it wasn't for the pale white light emitted from the forlorn-looking lamp in the kitchen, Pablo would have assumed something died in here.
"It's a little messy in here," Dale admitted casually. "Haven't gotten the time to clean up."
"A little, kid? Wait till your tia sees this," Pablo replied, still covering his nose with his palm. "She gonna slaughter you like you're a big fat cerdo."
"Not to worry. I'll spring clean soon. Now, water or beer?"
Pablo walked across the living room (this place looks as dead as it can be. Oh, the irony) and sat down on the couch. He grimaced at the pain in his back as he sat. He gave the offer a lengthy consideration and replied: "Beer will do just fine, Dale." Something in a can will be much better compared to water coming from a pipe, especially in a place like this. Don't wanna catch myself some cholera, he wanted to add, but did not.
Pablo looked around as Dale prepared the refreshments in the kitchen. The place was indeed unkempt. The couch he was sitting on had holes in almost every corner with cotton sticking out of them. The wallpaper was stained with what he believed to be moss, if that was even possible. The only decent looking piece of furniture is the flat-screened TV. It was a gift from both himself and Juannita to Dale when he first moved into this apartment. Apart from that, it was mess in almost every corner of the place. Piles of clothes were found everywhere; magazines and takeout boxes were lying around; the place looked like it was inhabited by a caveman, if not by cavemen. Pablo's revolting observations were abrupted by Dale's entrance into the living room.
"There," Dale muttered as he passed Pablo a glass of ice-cold beer.
"Gracias," thanked Pablo as he sipped at his drink. The chilling sensation was so refreshing it cleared his mind off of the unpleasant smell and sight of the apartment.
Dale dragged a wooden stool and sat in front of Pablo. "So, uh, how should I start this." Dale picked at his stubbles as he stared at his own glass of fizzling beer.
Pablo waved his hand in the air as he gulped his drink, as though he wanted Dale to stop talking. He placed his glass unto the coaster on the table and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked straight into Dale's eyes and gave himself a slight nod.
"Let's do this two ways, shall we?" Pablo said. "I tell you about Caleb, and you tell me all about your life after Olivia's death."
Dale's heart skipped a beat as the last two words struck him like a flash of thunderbolt from Zeus. He was astonished by Pablo's bluntness and straightforwardness. Images of Olivia appeared in his mind like strips and strips of negative from a roll of film. He swallowed the bitter thought and gulped.
"Fine."
Pablo gave him a grin and this made Dale feel even more uncomfortable.
"Well then, let's begin."
Above them, the spherical suspended lamp creaked as a gentle and cold breeze swept across the room.
