‘Don’t hit him. Hit me!’
As Bull La Jolla hit Villanazul on the nose, a chair crashed on Bull’s head.
‘Olé!’ said Gomez.
Bull La Jolla swayed, blinking, debating whether to fall. He began to drag Vamenos with him.
‘Let go!’ cried Gomez. ‘Let go!’
One by one, with great care, Bull La Jolla’s banana-like fingers let loose of the suit. A moment later he was ruins at their feet.
‘Compadres, this way!’
They ran Vamenos outside and set him down where he freed himself of their hands with injured dignity.
‘Okay, okay. My time ain’t up. I still got two minutes and, let’s see – ten seconds.’
‘What!’ said everybody.
‘Vamenos,’ said Gomez, ‘you let a Guadalajara cow climb on you, you pick fights, you smoke, you drink, you eat tacos, and now you have the nerve to say your time ain’t up?’
‘I got two minutes and one second left!’
‘Hey, Vamenos, you sure look sharp!’ Distantly, a woman’s voice called from across the street.
Vamenos smiled and buttoned his coat.
‘It’s Ramona Alvarez! Ramona, wait!’ Vamenos stepped off the curb.
‘Vamenos,’ pleaded Gomez. ‘What can you do in one minute and –’ he checked his watch. ‘Forty seconds!’
‘Watch! Hey, Ramona!’
Vamenos loped.
‘Vamenos, look out!’
Vamenos, surprised, whirled, saw a car, heard the shriek of brakes.
‘No,’ said all five men on the sidewalk.
Martinez heard the impact and flinched. His head moved up. It looks like white laundry, he thought, flying through the air. His head came down.
Now he heard himself and each of the men make a different sound. Some swallowed too much air. Some let it out. Some choked. Some groaned. Some cried aloud for justice. Some covered their faces. Martinez felt his own fist pounding his heart in agony. He could not move his feet.
‘I don’t want to live,’ said Gomez quietly. ‘Kill me, someone.’
Then, shuffling, Martinez looked down and told his feet to walk, stagger, follow one after the other. He collided with other men. Now they were trying to run. They ran at last and somehow crossed a street like a deep river through which they could only wade, to look down at Vamenos.
‘Vamenos!’ said Martinez. ‘You’re alive!’
Strewn on his back, mouth open, eyes squeezed tight, tight, Vamenos motioned his head back and forth, back and forth, moaning.
‘Tell me, tell me, oh tell me, tell me.’
‘Tell you what, Vamenos?’
Vamenos clenched his fists, ground his teeth.