The Day It Rained Forever

‘I’ve never been to this particular station before.’

‘I know you, anyway. Run here, do this, do that. Oh, here’s a peso, buy yourself a house. Run over there, do this, do that.’

‘It wasn’t me.’

‘He looked like you, anyway.’

They stood in the sun with their shadows dark under them, and the perspiration colouring their armpits. The soldier moved closer to John Webb. ‘I don’t have to do anything for you any more.’

‘You never had to before. I never asked it.’

‘You’re trembling, señor.’

‘I’m all right. It’s the sun.’

‘How much money have you got?’ asked the guard.

‘A thousand pesos to let us through, and a thousand for the other man over there.’

The guard turned again. ‘Will a thousand pesos be enough?’

‘No,’ said the other guard. ‘Tell him to report us!’

‘Yes,’ said the guard, back to Webb again. ‘Report me. Get me fired. I was fired once, years ago, by you.’

‘It was someone else.’

‘Take my name. It is Carlos Rodriguez Ysotl. Go on now.’

‘I see.’

‘No, you don’t see,’ said Carlos Rodriguez Ysotl. ‘Now give me two thousand pesos.’

John Webb took out his wallet and handed over the money. Carlos Rodriguez Ysotl licked his thumb and counted the money slowly under the blue glazed sky of his country as noon deepened and sweat arose from hidden sources and people breathed and panted above their shadows.

‘Two thousand pesos.’ He folded it and put it in his pocket quietly. ‘Now turn your car around and head for another border.’

‘Hold on now, damn it!’

The guard looked at him. ‘Turn your car.’

They stood a long time that way, with the sun blazing on the rifle in the guard’s hands, not speaking. And then John Webb turned and walked slowly, one hand to his face, back to the car and slid into the front seat.

‘What’re we going to do?’ said Leonora.

‘Rot. Or try to reach Porto Bello.’

‘But we need gas and our spare fixed. And going back over those highways … This time they might drop logs, and –’

‘I know, I know.’ He rubbed his eyes and sat for a moment with his head in his hands. ‘We’re alone, my God, we’re alone. Remember how safe we used to feel? How safe? We registered in all the big towns with the American Consuls. Remember how the joke went? “Everywhere you go you can hear the rustle of the eagle’s wings!” Or was it the sound of paper money? I forget. Jesus, Jesus, the world got empty awfully quick. Who do I call on now?’

She waited a moment and then said, ‘I guess just me. That’s not much.’

He put his arm around her. ‘You’ve been swell. No hysterics, nothing.’

‘Tonight maybe I’ll be screaming, when we’re in bed, if we ever find a bed again. It’s been a million miles since breakfast.’

He kissed her, twice, on her dry mouth. Then he sat slowly back. ‘First thing is to try to find gas. If we can get that, we’re ready to head for Porto Bello.’