9
He has the day off.
He makes some sandwiches, grabs a beer and some water for Jasmine. Then he gets the old radio, the one he listened to when Koko and Pugliese were still alive, and he takes Jasmine to the tree where the dogs are buried. The two of them sit in the shade, listening to instrumental jazz.
The station plays Miles Davis, Coltrane, Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie. There are no words, only the music and the sky, its blue so immense it shimmers, and the leaves of the tree barely moving, and Jasmine leaning silently against his chest.
When Thelonious Monk comes on, he stands up and slowly brings Jasmine to her feet. He holds her carefully and begins to move, to sway. At first Jasmine doesn’t understand and seems uncomfortable, but then she lets go and smiles. He kisses her on the forehead, on the mark where she’s been branded. They dance slowly, though it’s a fast song.
They spend the rest of the afternoon beneath the tree and he thinks he can feel Koko and Pugliese dancing with them.