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.“And I’d like to take a bath,” you said, Dragoness.“I wish we were already at the sea.” You walked toward the small store with an icebox beside its door and got a soft drink while Franz moved to the car, parked a little way from the pyramid.You drank your pop and Javier and Isabel opened drinks also.Franz, in the car, turned on the radio.He moved the knob all the way across the dial, quickly passing commercials, Afro-Cuban music, mariachis, the sound of surf, and stopped at a voice: “… performed by the Symphony Orchestra of Vienna, under the direction of Wilhelm Furtwängler…” He raised his hands, covered his eyes with his handkerchief, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.He stuck his head out the window and called, “If you people plan on getting to Veracruz tonight…” He pressed the starter and nothing happened.Javier paid for your drinks and you walked toward the car.Franz was moving the gearshift lever back and forth.“I don’t understand,” he said.“The gears don’t seem to work.”Javier smiled.Franz got out and went to the back of the car and opened the engine hood.He put his hands inside.Then he shrugged his shoulders and wiped his hands on his handkerchief.“This is the end of the road for a while,” he said quietly.“Someone has smashed the gearbox.”“We’ll have to find a mechanic,” said Isabel.“How long will it take, Franz?” you asked.He shrugged again.“It’ll have to be checked thoroughly.We’ll probably have to have the car towed into Puebla.I suppose we can spend the night in Cholula and go on tomorrow.”“Oh, no,” you groaned.“Is there a hotel?”“There’s a hotel,” Javier said.“It’s not too good, but…”“Look,” said Franz, showing broken wires.“Someone cut the wires from the distributor head.”“Sure,” you said dryly.You crossed your arms and leaned against the door of the car.“What do you expect? It’s that mania for destruction.Someone just got angry at your little car.”“A patient from the asylum,” Isabel laughed.She finished her drink and walked toward the store to return the bottle.“I’ll go to the gas station and call the AMA and arrange for towing,” said Franz.“But first let’s get out the suitcases.”“Javier, do something, for God’s sake,” you said, your arms crossed.“Help him with the bags.”* * *Δ You woke up and turned over in bed.“Oh, you’re back now?”“What do you mean, back? I haven’t gone anywhere.”“What time is it?”“Going on ten.Let’s get something to eat.”“What for? Besides, it will upset your stomach.”“Well, my stomach isn’t my fault.It’s not my fault that we live seven thousand meters straight up, with eagles and snakes.”“Hold it, Javier, hold it.I haven’t said a word.”“Do me a favor, Ligeia.Get me my medicine and a glass of water.”“What’s wrong?”“Just acidity, that’s all.”“Don’t hog the whole sheet.You always do that.”“Well, what does Franz say? Will the car be ready in the morning?”“How should I know? I haven’t seen Franz.Wouldn’t your stomach feel better if you ate something? Acidity is worse on an empty stomach.”“The medicine will trick them.”“Trick who?”“The damned juices in my stomach.”“Come on, Javier.Get up, let’s do something.”“What, for example?”“Well … did you bring the dominoes?”“Yes.They’re there in the suitcase.”You got up and opened the suitcase.“I laugh when I remember how you used to eat when you were younger.God, nothing bothered you.”Javier’s eyes said nothing.You felt for the box of dominoes.“When you were just a kid, old man.In New York.When we met at City College and fell in love.” You found the box and shook it.You looked around the room and finally emptied the box out on the night table.“Remember the black olives? The big black olives? Remember where we ate them?”“I remember that we drank a very dry white wine and that we were sitting facing the wharf.”“What was the name of the town? I bet you don’t remember.”“And I remember that we ate a red fish.”“Aren’t you going to get up and play dominoes?”“Put them on the bed.”You looked at Javier and sighed and shoved the dominoes on to the bed.“Bring my pen, Ligeia.It’s in my coat pocket.And we’ll need a piece of paper.”“No.”“We have to keep score.”“No
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