Rage Read Online Free

much to the man
himself on more than one occasion: "Let me get my hands on him and you'll soon see..." It was his favourite
turn of phrase, especially so when he could use it to
close a conversation. Very well, now was his opportunity
to put his words into action. Posted at the building's
entrance and keeping company with the doorman, he
was waiting for Maria to pass by. Israel flexed the joints
in his fingers, then his wrists, ankles and neck, while the
doorman chain-smoked one cigarette after the next.

    Maria came by at six thirty on the dot, just like the
previous evening. The doorman saw him coming and
nudged Israel, indicating the man with his chin.
    "That's him."
    "Back off," Israel muttered under his breath.
    The doorman took a step backwards.
    Once again, the climate looked ominous. Maria, oblivious to the possibility of getting caught out, came along
whistling a merry and mellifluous melody, pure birdsong; he had the bag containing his work clothes slung
over his shoulder. As he drew level and was about to pass
the two men, one of them - Israel - cut in front of him,
rudely blocking his way.
    "Where are you going?" he asked him.
    ?
"Why?"
    "What d'you mean, why? Because I'm asking you, you
Black Jewish motherfucker."
    Maria looked at the doorman, engaged in cleaning
his nails with a key, and understood the source of the
problem. Next he acted entirely out of character: taking
the bag off his shoulder, he set off at a lick, heading for
the corner. He ran with such speed and agility that Israel
hadn't yet turned around before Maria had disappeared
from the scene.
    "Did you see that?" Israel asked the porter.
    "I told you he was swift."

    "What kind of a cowardly motherfucking Black Jew?...
Those Bolivians are all the same..."
    "He doesn't seem like a Bolivian to me. Tall, for a start."
    "Chilean?"
    "Maybe Peruvian..."
    "Peruvians are also motherfucking Black Jews - and
dwarfs to boot. But this one's a Chilean. If he's not a
Bolivian, definitely a Chilean. What's more I'm gonna
get him. I'm gonna force that motherfucking Black Jew
Chilean to swallow the Malvinas whole!"
    As he said this he crossed himself, loudly kissing his
thumb at the end. No sooner done than he began
chewing his thumbnail.
    He couldn't believe it. Nor could the doorman. The
pair of them were equally astonished: they'd never seen
anything like it. He was the world champion of cowardice.
Between Maria's cowardice and his speed, neither Israel
nor the doorman could tell which surprised them most.
    At that moment, Maria reappeared. First Israel spotted
him, rounding the corner and heading towards them.
This time he came accompanied by Rosa.
    "Is that him coming this way again, or is there something the matter with my eyesight?" enquired Israel.
    "Yup - it's that motherfucking coward!" exclaimed
the doorman. "Mind you it takes balls to come back this
way... even more so with that girl on his arm!"
    "Move back."
    "Let's leave it for tomorrow, Israel... the girl's bound to
start screaming and attracting attention... I'll risk losing
my job over the fuss..."
    "Nobody's going to put you out of a job. My old man's
president of the Owners' Association. Step back and I'll
take over..."
    "Does it bug you if I go inside?"

    Israel wasn't answering. He had his eyes fixed on
Maria, now barely twenty yards away. The doorman hesitated an instant (he wanted to stay, he wanted to watch
him destroy the guy), but in the end he opted to protect
his job, and went inside the building.
    Israel stopped in the middle of the pavement.
    Rosa realized something was up and became anxious.
She said nothing, but Maria felt her clutch his arm more
tightly.
    "Calm down," he said. "It's some idiot with nothing
better to do. Carry on walking as if nothing's up."
    Israel planted himself in their path.
    "Ohh..." murmured Rosa, as if sighing. She was more
bemused than frightened.
    Israel addressed her first: "You're the maid at the
Blinder