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couple of people kind of stuck with each other because of their living
arrangements. / didn't think I'd have a boyfriend a year younger than I am
went through her mind.
She wondered how long he would stay her boyfriend. Till they stopped getting
along, she supposed. Right now, everything seemed fine. Why borrow trouble?
Here he came. He was grinning, which was a good sign. Annarita thought it was
safe to ask, "Did you?"
"You'd better believe it!" he answered, and waved his report card like a flag.
"I should have started busting my hump sooner. I might have got firsts like
you. . . . You did, right?"
"Si." She felt better about admitting it than she would have if he hadn't made
seconds. It was easy this way. "Maybe you will be up there too next year."
"Hope so," Gianfranco said. "I think I can do it. Now the question is whether
I'll kick myself in the rear and make myself do it."
"You did it over the last couple of grading periods this time," Annarita said.
"You'll start fresh next year, so if you push hard right from the start. . .
."
"If," he agreed. "Well, I'll give it my best shot and see what happens, that's
all." He waved the report card again, and almost hit somebody in the face with
it. "Now I want to go home and show this off."
"I don't blame you." Annarita was proud of him, but she didn't want to come
right out and say so. It would make him feel he was listening to his mother.
When they got back to the apartment building, a truck was parked in front of
it, two wheels on the street, the other two on the sidewalk. That was illegal,
of course, but people did it all the time. What was more surprising was the
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word painted in big green letters on the truck's door: REPAIRS.
Annarita and Gianfranco looked at each other. "You don't suppose ?" Gianfranco
sounded like someone in whom hope had just flowered against all odds.
"Let's go look!" Annarita said. They hurried into the lobby together.
Sure enough, the elevator door was open. Annarita couldn't remember the last
time she'd seen that. A man in coveralls and a cap and wearing a fat belt full
of tools came out of the elevator car. Another man in the same getup stayed in
there working.
"Are you really going to fix it?" Gianfranco might have been an acolyte in
church witnessing a miracle.
"Better believe it, kid." The man who'd come out of the elevator paused to
light a cigar and puff smoke towards
Annarita and Gianfranco. She coughed the cigar was vile. The repairman went
on, "Nothing real big wrong with it.
Somebody could've got it working a long time ago."
"How come nobody did, then?" Annarita asked.
He shrugged. "Beats me. Probably on account of nobody bothered to look and see
how hard it'd be. Probably on account of nobody figured he'd make any money
fixing it."
"But you will?" Annarita said.
"I ... sure will." Plainly, the repairman almost said something more pungent.
"I wouldn't be here if there wasn't some loot in it for me and Giulio. Isn't
that right, Giulio?" This time, he blew a noxious cloud toward the other
workman.
"Isn't what right?" Giulio asked, looking up from whatever he was doing inside
the elevator car.
"We wouldn't be doing this if they weren't paying us good money."
"What? You think I'm dumb or something? Of course not," Giulio said.
"You guys sound like capitalists," Gianfranco said.
He meant it as a compliment. Annarita knew that. She wasn't sure the repairman
would. The cigar twitched in the man's mouth. But all he said was, "Never yet
been anybody born who was allergic to cash." He turned again. "Isn't that
right, Giulio?"
"I dunno, Rocco," Giulio said. "I know I'm not."
"I wouldn't be allergic to riding the elevator instead of climbing stairs
every time I need to go to the apartment,"
Annarita said.
"Won't be long," said the man with the cigar Rocco.
She and Gianfranco still had to climb the stairs now. The trudge seemed twice
as long as usual because soon she wouldn't have to make it any more. Halfway
up, Gianfranco said, "They really did sound like capitalists. They only seemed
to care about making a profit for their work."
"Even if that is all they care about, you don't expect them to come right out
and admit it, do you?" Annarita was surprised they'd come so close. "It would
be like admitting you eat with your fingers or pick your nose or something."
"I suppose." Gianfranco climbed a few more steps. Then he turned to her and
said, "It shouldn't be like that, you know? It's not like that in the game.
You want to make as much money as you can there."
"That's a game," Annarita said gently. "This is life. It's not the same thing,
and you'll get in trouble you'll get everybody in trouble if you think it is."
The game could suck you in. Even she knew that, and she played much more
casually than Gianfranco did. But he had to remember what was real and what
wasn't.
With an impatient gesture, he showed he did. "I know, 1 know. Those guys down
there didn't exactly deny they were doing it for the money."
"No, they didn't." Annarita didn't say that showed what a crude pair they
were. To her, it was obvious. It should have been obvious to Gianfranco, too.
No doubt it would have been if the game didn't make it hard for him to think
straight.
The game. The game from another world. The game from a world where capitalism
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