SOMETHING ABOUT A VIET CONG FLAG
The desert baked under the summer sun. Red jumped off the freight as it
slowed just outside the railroad yard. He took a shit behind some tall rocks
to the north, wiped his ass with some leaves. Then he walked fifty yards,
sat behind another rock out of the sun and rolled a cigarette. He saw the
hippies walking toward him. Two guys and a girl. They had jumped off the
train in the yard and were walking back.
One of the guys carried a Viet Cong flag. The guys looked soft and
harmless. The girl had a nice wide ass -- it almost split her bluejeans. She
was blond and had a bad case of acne. Red waited until they almost reached
him.
"Heil Hitler!" he said.
The hippies laughed.
"Where you going?" Red asked.
"We're trying to get to Denver. I guess we'll make it."
"Well," said Red, "you're going to have to wait a while. I'm going to
have to use your girl."
"What do you mean?"
"You heard me."
Red grabbed the girl. With one hand grabbing her hair and the other her
ass, he kissed her. The taller of the guys reached for Red's shoulder. "Now
wait a minute . . ."
Red turned and put the guy on the ground with a short left. A stomach
punch. They guy stayed down, breathing heavily. Red looked at the guy with
the Viet Cong flag. "If you don't want to get hurt, leave me alone."
"Come on," he said to the girl, "get over behind those rocks."
"No, I won't do it," said the girl, "I won't do it."

Red pulled his switchblade and hit the button. The blade was flat
across her nose, pressed it down.
"How do you think you'd look without a nose?"
She didn't answer.
"I'll slice it off." He grinned.
"Listen," said the guy with the flag, "you can't get away with this."
"Come on, girly," said Red, pushing her toward the rocks.
Red and the girl disappeared behind the rocks. The guy with the flag
helped his friend up. They stood there. They stood there some minutes.
"He's fucking Sally. What can we do? He's fucking her right now."
"What can we do? He's a madman."
"We should do something."
"Sally must think we're real shits."
"We are. There are two of us. We could have handled him."
"He has a knife."
"It doesn't matter. We could have taken him."
"I feel god damned miserable."
"How do you think Sally feels? He's fucking her."
They stood and waited. The tall one who had taken the punch was called
Leo. The other was Dale. It was hot in the sun as they waited. "We've got
two cigarettes left," said Dale, "should we smoke?"
"How the hell can we smoke when that's going on behind the rocks?"
"You're right. My god, what's taking so long."
"God, I don't know. You think he's killed her?"
"I'm getting worried."
"Maybe I'd better have a look."
"O.k. but be careful."
Leo walked toward the rocks. There was a small hill with some brush. He
crawled up the hill behind the brush and looked down. Red was fucking Sally.
Leo watched. It seemed endless. Red went on and on. Leo crawled down the
hill and walked over and stood next to Dale.
"I guess she's all right," he said.
They waited.
Finally Red and Sally came out from behind the rocks. They walked
toward them.
"Thank you brothers," said Red, "she was a very fine piece."
"May you rot in hell!" said Leo.
Red laughed. "Peace! Peace! ... He flashed the sign with his fingers.
"Well, I think I'll be going . . ."
Red rolled a quick cigarette, smiling as he wet it. Then he lit up,
inhaled, and walked off toward the north, keeping in the shade.
"Let's hitchhike the rest of the way," said Dale. "Freights aren't any
good."
"The highway's to the west," said Leo, "let's go."
They began moving toward the west.
"Christ,' said Sally, "I can hardly walk! He's an animal!"
Leo and Dale didn't say anything.
"I hope I don't get pregnant," said Sally.
"Sally," said Leo, "I'm sorry . . ."
"Oh, shut up!"
They walked. It was getting along toward evening and the desert heat
was dropping off.
"I hate men!" said Sally.
A jackrabbit leaped out from behind a bush and Leo and Dale jumped as
it ran off.
"A rabbit," said Leo, "a rabbit."
"That rabbit scared you guys, didn't it?"
"Well, after what happened, we're jumpy."
"You're jumpy? What about me? Listen let's sit down a minute.
I'm tired."
There was a patch of shade and Sally sat between them.
"You know, though ..." she said.
"What?"
"It wasn't so bad. On a strictly sexual basis, I mean. He really put it
to me. On a strictly sexual basis it was quite something."
"What?" said Dale.
"I mean, morally, I hate him. The son of a bitch should be shot. He's a
dog. A pig. But on a strictly sexual basis it was something . . ."
They sat there a while not saying anything. Then they got out the two
cigarettes and smoked them, passing them around.
"I wish we had some dope," said Leo.
"God, I knew it was coming, said Sally. "You guys almost don't exist."
"Maybe you'd feel better if we raped you?" asked Leo. "Don't be stupid."
"You think I can't rape you?" "I should have gone with him. You guys are
nothing." "So now you like him?" asked Dale. "Forget it!" said Sally. "Let's
get down to the highway and stick our thumbs out."
"I can slam it to you," said Leo, "I can make you cry."
"Can I watch?" asked Dale, laughing.
"There won't be anything to watch," said Sally. "Come on. Let's go."
They stood up and walked toward the highway. It was a ten minute walk.
When they got there Sally stood in the highway with her thumb out. Leo and
Dale stood back out of view. They had forgotten the Viet Cong flag. They had
left it back at the freight yard. It was in the dirt near the railroad
tracks. The war went on. Seven red ants, the big kind, crawled across the
flag.