Beet Generation

"Ah Sal you are all right.", said Remi Boncoer as Dean and I walked into his house. He patted me on the back, and avoided eye contact with Dean, who looked hurt, but only for a second. His expression was replaced by swaying and longing for the last fifteen dollars we spent at the bar that night.

Lee Ann came around the corner from the kitchen. She saw Dean and halted and sped backwards back into the kitchen. Remi glared a Dean and followed her into the kitchen. They began arguing in whispers, but not quietly so I could hear everything and so could Dean. I looked back at him and his eyes returned to normal. He rubbed his belly and sweat was beading on his sunken cheeks. He paid no attention to the hisses around the corner.

Dean walked over to the set table, talking on the way "My pa made this for me, back in Denver." The idea that his wino father ever cooked anything surprised me. I thought of boyhood Dean kneeling over the trashcan fire in an alley of Larimer street, hiding from the rain under his father's coat. I was so tired and broken, so beat that I couldn't think of anything else.

My eyes must have glazed over because Dean walked towards me and stopped when his face was only a few inches from my face and he yelled with a full mouth, "Try this - you have to!". Remi's French accent was still audible two rooms away now, and I knew I would have time to try some without him noticing. Using two fingers so as to not make a mess I tried one of the red cubes. The taste reminded me of dirt, or earth, but it was also tart, and it was such a beautiful color. It was the first real food I had eaten in two days.

"What is it?" I asked and sneaked another piece, but Dean was already gone. I heard his footsteps walking towards Remi and Lee Ann and his booming voice "Hey Lee Ann! My pa made this all the time! Lee Ann! How do you make it? Lee Ann!"

It took longer than I thought to find the kitchen, since the floor was moving from the booze. I sat down on a chair by the door and must have passed out for a second, since by the time I caught up to Dean and Remi and Lee Ann they were all quiet and leaning on the counter. There was blood on Dean's hands - he was peeling beets and cubing them. Remi saw me walk in but said nothing and turned his gaze back to the cutting board. It wasn't blood as I thought; it was the juice from the beets.

Lee Ann was dictating her recipe: "Not so big, or they wont cook. Okay now just add olive oil and salt and put them in the ov-" but she couldn't finish because Dean had left the room and we heard the front door slam. I had found a chair by now and we had nothing to say to each other, but Remi looked happy staring at Lee Ann.

Dean walked back in with the bottle of Chablis wine from the car that we couldn't bring ourselves to finish and forgot in the trunk. It had been open for months. He uncorked it and the entire kitchen smelled like rotting vinegar and before Lee Ann could protest he poured a little on the Beets. "My pa did this I remember because he said he never wanted to waste the wine, even when it was bad."

I was happy the oven was already on, and Dean opened it and the gust of warm air made me shiver more than anyone else has ever shivered in San Francisco. He singed his arm hairs putting the beets in the very back of the oven - it must have been hundreds of degrees hot. I began feeling feverish and I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up at noon and I felt alright, and Dean and Lee Ann seemed to be getting along. He made the beets again that night and I tried some again and he was right it tasted delicious and we talked about starting a beet farm. Dean's hands were permanently stained red. At the end of the second day in San Francisco, Remi was concerned that he was getting old and Dean spent two hours talking about how excited he was about life and the things he was going to do.

Later that night Remi caught Dean trying to make with his girl. Lee Ann was not that kind of girl but it didn't matter, Dean's hands were red. I never saw Remi that mad and he told us to leave his house, even though it was Lee Ann's house. I told him I would come back without Dean but it Remi said he didn't want me to. We never unpacked the Buick so we got back in and started driving. The car was really quiet and Dean knew I was angry so he said "Now Sal, Lee Ann was the one who started it. I was trying to get her to stop but you know I miss Denver and anyway we were out of Chablis. There was no reason to stay without those beets." He started rubbing his belly and driving with his knees. We were driving back to Denver.