Latisha Character Analysis

The food at the Dead Dog was good, but what drew tourists to the cafe was the ambience and the reputation that it had developed over the years. Latisha would like to have been able to take all the credit for transforming the Dead Dog from a nice local establishment with a loyal but small clientele to a nice local establishment with a loyal but small clientele and a tourist trap. But, in fact, it had been her auntie’s idea.

“Tell them it’s dog meat,” Norma had said. “Tourists like that kind of stuff.”

“Nice jacket,” Billy had told him.

“Damn right it is,” said George.

“Thought you just liked new things,” said Latisha, wiping down a table.

“It’s history,” said George, rolling his shoulders in the jacket. “Most old things are worthless. This is history.” […]

That night when Latisha got home, George was sitting in front of the television with Christian curled up on his lap. He still had on the jacket. Latisha hadn’t even seen it coming. George turned the television off, got out of the chair as if he was getting up to get a cup of coffee, grabbed Latisha by her dress, and slammed her against the wall. And before she realized what was happening, he was hitting her as hard as he could, beating her until she fell.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” he kept shouting, timing the words to the blows.

So that Thought Woman takes off her nice clothes, and that one gets into the River.

Whoa! says Thought Woman. That is one cold River. This must be a tricky River.

Swim to the middle, says that tricky River. It is much warmer there.

So Thought Woman swims to the middle of that River and it is warmer there.

This is better, says Thought Woman, and she lies back on the River and floats with the current. Thought Woman floats on that River, and that one goes to sleep.

I am very sleepy, says Thought Woman, and then she goes to sleep.

Hee-hee, says that River. Hee-hee.

“Come on,” said George. “Come on! It’s the twentieth century. Nobody cares about your little powwow. A bunch of old people and drunks sitting around in tents in the middle of nowhere. Nobody cares about any of this.”

“Go away, George,” said Latisha. “Just go away.”

“You’re a joke!” George’s lips were wet with spit. “You all act like this is important, like it’s going to change your lives. Christ, you guys are born stupid and you die stupid.”

Lionel picked up the case and set it on its feet. “There’s nothing for you here.”

Lionel waited until Charlie’s car disappeared down the road. “So,” he said to Alberta, “you in town for the weekend?”

“That’s right,” said Alberta. “Figured I’d give Norma a hand.”

“With what?”

“With the cabin,” said Norma. “You can help, too.”

Lionel stopped what he was doing and looked at Norma and then he looked at the dam. “You’re not serious?”

“Sure she is, brother,” said Latisha.

“Won’t take much,” said Norma. “We’ll get Harley’s truck and drag as many logs as we can back up here, and what we’re short, we can cut and bring in.”

“That’s a lot of work,” said Lionel.

“My mother did it,” said Norma. “Did it all by herself.”

Alberta set her feet in the mud and put her hands on her hips. “You can help or you can sell televisions.”

The food at the Dead Dog was good, but what drew tourists to the cafe was the ambience and the reputation that it had developed over the years. Latisha would like to have been able to take all the credit for transforming the Dead Dog from a nice local establishment with a loyal but small clientele to a nice local establishment with a loyal but small clientele and a tourist trap. But, in fact, it had been her auntie’s idea.

“Tell them it’s dog meat,” Norma had said. “Tourists like that kind of stuff.”

“Nice jacket,” Billy had told him.

“Damn right it is,” said George.

“Thought you just liked new things,” said Latisha, wiping down a table.

“It’s history,” said George, rolling his shoulders in the jacket. “Most old things are worthless. This is history.” […]

That night when Latisha got home, George was sitting in front of the television with Christian curled up on his lap. He still had on the jacket. Latisha hadn’t even seen it coming. George turned the television off, got out of the chair as if he was getting up to get a cup of coffee, grabbed Latisha by her dress, and slammed her against the wall. And before she realized what was happening, he was hitting her as hard as he could, beating her until she fell.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” he kept shouting, timing the words to the blows.

So that Thought Woman takes off her nice clothes, and that one gets into the River.

Whoa! says Thought Woman. That is one cold River. This must be a tricky River.

Swim to the middle, says that tricky River. It is much warmer there.

So Thought Woman swims to the middle of that River and it is warmer there.

This is better, says Thought Woman, and she lies back on the River and floats with the current. Thought Woman floats on that River, and that one goes to sleep.

I am very sleepy, says Thought Woman, and then she goes to sleep.

Hee-hee, says that River. Hee-hee.

“Come on,” said George. “Come on! It’s the twentieth century. Nobody cares about your little powwow. A bunch of old people and drunks sitting around in tents in the middle of nowhere. Nobody cares about any of this.”

“Go away, George,” said Latisha. “Just go away.”

“You’re a joke!” George’s lips were wet with spit. “You all act like this is important, like it’s going to change your lives. Christ, you guys are born stupid and you die stupid.”

Lionel picked up the case and set it on its feet. “There’s nothing for you here.”

Lionel waited until Charlie’s car disappeared down the road. “So,” he said to Alberta, “you in town for the weekend?”

“That’s right,” said Alberta. “Figured I’d give Norma a hand.”

“With what?”

“With the cabin,” said Norma. “You can help, too.”

Lionel stopped what he was doing and looked at Norma and then he looked at the dam. “You’re not serious?”

“Sure she is, brother,” said Latisha.

“Won’t take much,” said Norma. “We’ll get Harley’s truck and drag as many logs as we can back up here, and what we’re short, we can cut and bring in.”

“That’s a lot of work,” said Lionel.

“My mother did it,” said Norma. “Did it all by herself.”

Alberta set her feet in the mud and put her hands on her hips. “You can help or you can sell televisions.”