The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

legs off, please call me; This is Oscar, they want a million dollars or it’s over, please call me; This is Oscar, I’ve just spotted a strange meteorite and I’m going out to investigate. She always got back to him after a couple of days, and was pleasant about it, but still. Then she canceled three Fridays in a row and he had to settle for the clearly reduced berth of Sunday after church. She’d pick him up and they’d drive out to Boulevard East and park and together they’d stare out over the Manhattan skyline. It wasn’t an ocean, or a mountain range; it was, at least to Oscar, better, and it inspired their best conversations.
    It was during one of those little chats that Ana let slip, God, I’d forgotten how big Manny’s cock was.
    Like I really need to hear that, he snapped.
    I’m sorry, she said hesitantly. I thought we could talk about everything.
    Well, it wouldn’t be bad if you actually kept Manny’s anatomical enormity to yourself.
    So we can’t talk about everything?
    He didn’t even bother answering her.
    With Manny and his big cock around, Oscar was back to dreaming about nuclear annihilation, how through some miraculous accident he’d hear about the attack first and without pausing he’d steal his tío’s car, drive it to the stores, stock it full of supplies (maybe shoot a couple of looters en route), and then fetch Ana. What about Manny? she’d wail. There’s no time! he’d insist, peeling out, shoot a couple more looters (now slightly mutated), and then repair to the sweaty love den where Ana would quickly succumb to his take-charge genius and his by-then ectomorphic physique. When he was in a better mood he let Ana find Manny hanging from a light fixture in his apartment, his tongue a swollen purple bladder in his mouth, his pants around his ankles. The news of the imminent attack on the TV, a half-literate note pinned to his chest. I koona taek it . And then Oscar would comfort Ana with the terse insight, He was too weak for this Hard New World.
    So she has a boyfriend? Lola asked him suddenly.
    Yes, he said.
    You should back off for a little while.
    Did he listen? Of course he didn’t. Available any time she needed to kvetch. And he even got—joy of joys!—the opportunity to meet the famous Manny, which was about as fun as being called a fag during a school assembly (which had happened). (Twice.) Met him outside Ana’s house. He was this intense emaciated guy with marathon-runner limbs and voracious eyes; when they shook hands Oscar was sure the nigger was going to smack him, he acted so surly. Manny was muy bald and completely shaved his head to hide it, had a hoop in each ear and this leathery out-in-the-sun buzzardy look of an old cat straining for youth.
    So you’re Ana’s little friend, Manny said.
    That’s me, Oscar said in a voice so full of cheerful innocuousness that he could have shot himself for it.
    Oscar is a brilliant writer, Ana offered. Even though she had never once asked to read anything he wrote.
    He snorted. What would you have to write about?
    I’m into the more speculative genres. He knew how absurd he sounded.

    The more speculative genres. Manny looked ready to cut a steak off him. You sound mad corny, guy, you know that?
    Oscar smiled, hoping somehow an earthquake would demolish all of Paterson.
    I just hope you ain’t trying to chisel in on my girl, guy.
    Oscar said, Ha-ha. Ana flushed red, looked at the ground.
    A joy.
    With Manny around, he was exposed to an entirely new side of Ana. All they talked about now, the little they saw each other, was Manny and the terrible things he did to her. Manny smacked her, Manny kicked her, Manny called her a fat twat, Manny cheated on her, she was sure, with this Cuban chickie from the middle school. So that explains why I couldn’t get a date in those days; it was Manny, Oscar joked, but Ana didn’t laugh. They couldn’t talk ten minutes without Manny beeping her and her having to call him back and assure him she wasn’t with anybody else. And one day she arrived at Oscar’s house with a bruise on her face and with her blouse torn, and his mother had said: I don’t want any trouble here!
    What am I going to do? she asked over and over and Oscar always found himself holding her awkwardly and telling her, Well, I think if he’s this bad to you, you should break up with him, but she shook her head and said, I know I should, but I can’t. I love him.
    Love . Oscar knew he should have checked out