When last we left our heros...
Ginny and Brew both know (without speaking) their next stop has to be Lorna's house, where Ginny picks up the note Alathea left since she is "better at this kind of thing." Brew is anticipating another withdrawl crisis, besides. The notes are on the same kind of paper, but not torn from the same sheet, which, as Ginny pedantically points out, doesn't prove anything.
They pay a call to the Missing Persons Department of the police, giving Brew a chance to feel uncomfortable, as most of the force knows who he is. Again, the new municipal building housing the police fits in with the general unpleasant architectural theme of the city. Almost nothing, ever, is comfortable.
In addition to the general oppresiveness that pervades much of the city, it foreshadows the general attitude, particularly among Chicanos, that regular people are unlikely, in Puerta del Sol, to find help.From the outside, it looks like a country club for millionaires. An ordinary citizen can no more walk in there and feel comfortable than fly to the moon. All those fountains and flower beds might've been a good idea, but unfortunately the main part of the building hands over the fountains and flowers and walkways. A square mountain of white concrete leans on the back of your neck--from some angles you can't even see what holds it up--so by the time you get to the doors and start climbing to wherever you have to go, you already feel intimidated.
Inside, Ginny questions Sgt. Encino in her businesslike, no-nonsense way. Encino seems unreachable, his eyes "sad, world-weary, and arrogant." He repeats the fact that nothing can be done unless a complaint is filed against Alathea, and Ginny argues, unsuccessfully.
Ginny pulls her ace and brings up that Carol Christie was found dead under very similar circumstances, but Encino stonewalls her, though he does let drop that Detective-Ltd. Acton is on the Christie case. Ginny makes the significant point thatWith just a hint of sarcasm, Ginny said, "You assume she ran away."
"Why not? As I have said, the city is big. Girls disappear each week..."
and Encino, rattled, calls Ginny a dirty name (rusty high school Spanish is actually useful with this book"The Christies don't want people to know what really happened to their daughter, so the cops clamp a lid on it. Having money is good for something after all. I just wonder what you and Acton are getting out of it."
). Brew's immediate response is to attempt a little physical intimidation ("I was going to knot my fist in the front of his nice blue uniform and shake him up good") but Ginny elbows. Not only is she a tough, independent woman, but she really elbows him in earnest ("an elbow that almost caved in my ribs").The interview concludes with Encino's social commentary on the different way in which disappearances of Anglo and Chicano girls are handled, the contrast between the two cultures being a recurring issue in the book.
Brew is still fuming, but he understands the point, since he has spend a lot of time in the old, Chicano part of town, and Ginny makes her moral point, also"If a Chicano girl runs away, and the mother asks for help, you Anglos say, 'What do you expect? Look for her in the brothels.' And if that Chicano girl is found dead, then the papers print every rumor they hear about her, true or false."
Brew again demonstrates his knowledge of Chicano culture and translates the insult for Ginny, at which point Ginny's tough-woman response gives Brew a"wild urge" to kiss her, but unfortunately for him, they step out into the sunlight and "suddenly my head was reeling for a drink." It's explained that his is the second of what'll probably be three major crisies. Brew retains his stubborn air of un-help-ability; though he's standing still in the parking lot "with the sun in my eyes and my brain aching" (again, the sun), he believes she can't do anything to help him."I work for whoever asks me.... I don't have any control over who asks. I just take what they as and give it my best."
Though he's in a pretty abject state, and he's previously relinquished his dignity, this time he doesn't let Ginny stay with him, and he doesn't want to go with her to question Alathea's friends."She'd done everything anybody could do when she came looking for me in the first place."
Ginny is concerned, but Brew, having trouble accepting assistance, convinces her to leave, and she leaves. "A minute after that, I wanted to cry out Ginny! Once night falls Brew revives enough to stumble out and head to the old part of town. The final sentence made me wonder if Brew is out to get a drink...I said it again. "Take me home."
"Brew," she whispered, "I don't want to leave you alone."
With an effort, I pulled my hands off my face. I must've looked pretty fierce, because she winced. "I want to be alone. It's bad enough when I'm alone. This morning was easy. It's going to get worse. Do you think I like being this danger-- Whoops
That reached her. It didn't ease the tight worry in her face, but it got me what I wanted. She took me home.
The main thing about this chapter that I'll point out, aside from the plot point that Christie's death is being hushed up, is the divide between the Anglo and Chicano worlds. The line describing Encino's eyes pretty much sums up how they're portrayed. And of course there's the continuing ambivalent relationship between Ginny and Brew, and Brew's determination to try to deal with his "messes" himself, though he's in about as abject a state as he's been in thus far.
Oh, and some withdrawl imagery:
By the time she got me up to my apartment, the pressure in my skull was squeezing sweat out of my face like beads of thirst
...red-hot bugs crawling along my nerves, ticks and chiggers and cockroaches of need..."
The chapters are short but as Joy said, you get a lot out of them...