Over the next two days, they learned their permit had stalled with Carlos’s kidnapping. Without his pushing to get it done, it had been sucked into the great black hole of Mexico City’s bureaucracy. Antonio visited the Ministry to see what progress had been made, but after a half day there, he returned with a dour expression.
“Nobody knows anything about it. So I made a new request. But we’ve lost almost a week.”
“That’s frustrating. It doesn’t sound like there’s much we can do about it,” Sam said.
“No, unfortunately, this is the system. It’s a bad one, but it’s the one we must work with.”
“How long do you think this application will take?”
“Could be as much as a month. Although I highlighted that we have a commitment for funding, which I told them was time-sensitive, so I’m hoping that hastens it along.”
“A month is too long. Carlos felt he could get it done in a week.”
“Which he probably could. The problem is that Carlos isn’t here, so we don’t have his contact base to draw upon. He could pick up a phone and take the right person to lunch. I’m afraid I don’t even know who the right person is. I’ve spent my time in academia and in the field.”
Remi shifted in her seat. “Is there anything we can do to help speed things up?”
Antonio frowned. “I sincerely wish there was. But I can’t think of anything.”
Antonio left them and returned to the new find. Sam continued studying the images from the tunnel discovered under the Temple of the Feathered Serpent while Remi pored over the pictographs from the tombs north of town, unearthed during the earthquake. At one o’clock they took a break for lunch and Sam called the clinic to see how Lazlo was faring. The administrator, Isabella Benito, came on the line, and, after exchanging pleasantries, Sam cut to the questions that he and Remi had discussed the prior night.
“How is he?” Sam asked.
“Physically, he’s getting stronger, and has made a nearly complete recovery. He’s put on three kilos, and is taking part in the clinic’s exercise program every day.”
“And mentally?”
“Ah, that is always a more difficult process. The psychological dependence on alcohol is insidious, and it has been a major part of his lifestyle for many years.”
“I understand.”
“His self-image must be revised so he can imagine a future without alcohol. That, as they say, is the hard part. Unfortunately, many patients don’t make that important transition and instead fall prey to old habits.”
Sam sighed. “In your opinion, is he stable enough to work on a project with us?”
“That depends on what you require of him. If you are asking whether he can work here while he’s recovering, the answer is a cautious yes. It could well prove therapeutic.”
“What about going into the field with us?”
“Into the field? You mean leaving the clinic before his course here is done?”
“Only temporarily. Perhaps a day here, two there. What’s your assessment?”
Benito hesitated as she considered the question. “We’re nearing the point where we would slowly reintroduce him into the outside world. Small steps to acclimate him to a noninstitutional setting. But that would be under carefully controlled circumstances and supervised at every turn.”
“Then he’s ready to reassimilate?”
“Yes, but I’m describing going to a restaurant with several of the other patients, accompanied by a counselor. Taking a shopping trip. It sounds like you’re proposing something more . . . demanding.”
“Señora Benito, Lazlo is foremost an academic. It’s what he lives for. Intellectual stimulation is like oxygen for him. What I’m proposing is to involve him in a project that will fully engage his attention. That will give him a purpose.”
“If you wish to do so, I have no objection, but you’ll have to take full responsibility for him.”
“Yes, I appreciate that. If I’m understanding you correctly, you’re saying that he’s probably up to it, but you can’t guarantee that he won’t . . . backslide.”
Her tone was cautious. “I can’t see anything negative, but honestly, Señor Fargo, none of us can predict a patient’s outcome with complete accuracy, especially at this stage. It’s still very early.”
“I respect that. Thank you for your candor.”