George Mills Part 22
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"Sure," Mills said. "My G.o.d, Mrs, listen to the way I build your confidence. I think I'm your man." It was exactly exactly what he thought. It was what he thought when he'd first heard her voice, when he'd listened to her prattle. He wanted this job, needed it. He had to make himself low, reserve and brutal syntax in his jaws like chewing gum. what he thought. It was what he thought when he'd first heard her voice, when he'd listened to her prattle. He wanted this job, needed it. He had to make himself low, reserve and brutal syntax in his jaws like chewing gum.
"You just better not die," Mills warned.
"I don't intend to."
"I want to go too," Mary said from where she'd been listening in the hall.
"Mary!"
"I want to go too," she said, still concealed.
"Don't be silly. What about school?"
"Kids can get off if it's educational. There's going to be a unit on Mexico. I'd get extra credit. I want to go too."
"Mary, I'm going down there to get well. I'll be taking treatments. All the people will be sick there. As sick as Mommy."
"Let me talk to her, Mrs." George Mills said, and promised he would bring back a wonderful present for her.
"Oh, presents," she said disparagingly. "My grandfather buys me all the presents I want. My Uncle Harry does."
Mills barely glanced at the woman for permission. "Gee, kid," George Mills said, guarding his protector, "I meant your mommy."
5.
To the poor most places are foreign, all soil not the neighborhood extraterritorial and queer. They cling to an idea of edge, a sense of margin. It's as if s.p.a.ce, s.p.a.ce itself, not climate or natural resources or the angle at which a town hangs from the meridian, dictates situation and size, even form, even vegetation. They believe, that is, in a horizon geography, a geology of scenic overlook, the visible locutions of surface like merchandise arranged in a store. For them, Nature, the customs she fosters, seem to exist within serially located parallel lines. Science and history are determined by lat.i.tude and longitude, little else. Savannas and rain forests, jungles, seash.o.r.es, mountains and deserts--those were the real nations.
The people were not strange to him, only their white s.h.i.+rts. Only their artifacts, their basketstraw heritage and adobe being. So much silver-it gleamed everywhere, so accessory he suspected that even the policemen's badges were made of it-made his soul reel. So much marquetry-even the benches in the public squares and gardens seemed a sort of crocheted wood-gave him a sense of an entire country artisan'd into existence. The sun seemed a feature of the landscape, and he was enough conscious of the tremor-settled streets to suspect the delicate arrangements of the earth he walked upon, and to sense it sensed his steps.
It was all as mysterious and significant as the skinned rabbits and shaved chickens that hung upside down from hooks in the butchers' shop windows, red and naked as political example.
They had been in Mexico almost four days and Mrs. Glazer had still to receive her first treatment. They had rented a car in El Paso and crossed the Rio Grande to Juarez, Mrs. Glazer insisting they stop for the hitchhikers standing on the Mexican side of the bridge. George handled the money, the blue, red and yellow tissues of currency, soft as old clothes. He signed the insurance forms and answered the border guards' questions. She gave him her tourist card to carry. He signed the register at their motel while she remained in the air-conditioned car. He settled her in her room and turned down her bed. She had him call Sam before he went to his own room. Standing, he relayed both ends of the conversation to and from the easy chair in which she sat. They had arrived safely, he said. He and the children already missed her, he said. The girls had to do all their homework before they went out. Mary couldn't have a milk shake till after dinner. Milly wasn't to make any arrangements for Wednesday afternoon. That's when auditions for Nutcracker Nutcracker were scheduled, he said. The trip had tired her, he said, and she thought she'd put off her first visit to the clinic till morning. were scheduled, he said. The trip had tired her, he said, and she thought she'd put off her first visit to the clinic till morning.
A boy rose from a camp chair in which he'd been sitting, handed something to an old woman, and came up while George was still parking the car in the lot.
"Joo here for treatments?"
"Do you speak English?"
"Ain't that English? Joo here for treatments?"
"Information."
"What informations joo want? Si. Si. Sure. It work. Cure up jore cancers. Fix joo up fine." Sure. It work. Cure up jore cancers. Fix joo up fine."
Mills started past the boy.
"Hey," called the boy. "Joo, Misters. Joo got to take number. I give joo."
But Mills ignored him.
Two receptionists in nurse's uniforms sat at registration desks at the back of the crowded room. George went outside to get a number.
"Joo need me to watch jore cars? I watch jore cars," the boy called after George as he started back toward the clinic. "That ways nothing awfuls happen. n.o.body break jore window or puncture jore tires or tear off jore antenna or pour sugars in jore gas tanks."
George turned around.
"How much?"
The boy grinned at him. "Joo got a Joo.S. dollars on you?" George handed him a dollar.
"Crowded in there? Many peoples?" The boy wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead, pulled at his s.h.i.+rt, pretended to fan himself. "Joo want to rent my chair for a quarter? Sick peoples need to sit down."
"What's your number?" a very old man asked him, smiling, when he was again inside. He wore an old-fas.h.i.+oned taxi driver's cap with a b.u.t.ton that said "Official Guide" where the badge number would have been.
"Ninety-five," Mills said.
The old man's smile disappeared and his eyes filled with tears. "Ninety-five," he said feelingly. "You come all this way, all this far from el Estados Unidos, el Estados Unidos, and they give you ninety-five. Tch-tch." and they give you ninety-five. Tch-tch."
"It's all right," Mills said.
"No, senor! No senor! No all right! I jam shame for my people. I jam shame for those two wh.o.r.e daughters of wh.o.r.es who call themselves typists. So slow. Tch-tch. They call themselves train typists? They are train p.u.s.s.ies! Customers have to spell out for them all everything. Ninety-five." The old man spit on the floor. "You be here all week. I get you thirty-seven. Five pesos." all right! I jam shame for my people. I jam shame for those two wh.o.r.e daughters of wh.o.r.es who call themselves typists. So slow. Tch-tch. They call themselves train typists? They are train p.u.s.s.ies! Customers have to spell out for them all everything. Ninety-five." The old man spit on the floor. "You be here all week. I get you thirty-seven. Five pesos."
"No thanks."
"Five pesos. That isn't even a quarter."
"I'll wait."
"Sure," the old man said, "wait. You in good shape. I can seen it for myself. Your tumor ain't bad. You got all the time in the world."
"I'm not sick," Mills said, "it isn't for me. I'm making arrangements for the lady I work for."
"Verdad?" the old man said. He seemed relieved. "I'm happy for you, senor. senor. I am happy but puzzle. If it isn't for you, then why you waste your time in such a place? Plane to El Paso, I am happy but puzzle. If it isn't for you, then why you waste your time in such a place? Plane to El Paso, verdad? verdad? Rented a car? First time in ol' Mayheeho, Rented a car? First time in ol' Mayheeho, si si ? Sure. Is beautiful day, si? Gift me seven pesos, I get the c.u.n.ts to call out ninety-five, we go for a ride." ? Sure. Is beautiful day, si? Gift me seven pesos, I get the c.u.n.ts to call out ninety-five, we go for a ride."
Mills looked at the young women. Twenty-eight had been the last number called.
"Could you do that?" he asked.
"Caramba, senor," the old man said, "thees girls is my sisters!"
"No," Mills said. "I don't think so."
"Seven pesos. That's thirty cents."
"It's thirty-five cents," Mills said.
"Where do you change your money?"
"At the motel."
The old man groaned. "No, senor, senor," he said patiently, "never change money at the motel. Always go to the Midas m.u.f.fler. Change it there."
"Jesus, leave me be, will you?" Mills said. "Everybody has his hand out. I had to pay the kid in the parking lot to watch the car."
The old man was horrified. "The kid? Not the old woman? The kid? kid? How much you give him?" How much you give him?"
"A buck."
"Sure," the old man muttered, "he'll go to the Midas m.u.f.fler and get twenty-three point eight pesos for it. Here," he said, "take thirty-seven. I jam shame for my people." He put the number into George's hand. thirty-seven. I jam shame for my people." He put the number into George's hand.
"What about the car? You think he'd do anything to the car?"
"No no," the old man rea.s.sured him, "the machine will be fine. You bribed him good."
Mills made Judith Glazer's arrangements with the receptionist and returned to the car. The old man was with him, watching him as he unlocked the automobile. "I already gave you your five pesos," George said. "What do you want now?"
The old fellow shook his head. "You could have done all this over the phone," he said tragically.
"Is that what you do? Give advice?"
"I am a tout," he said proudly. "I saved you two hours. It cost you less than a quarter."
"Yeah, well, when I come back with the lady I work for don't expect any more."
"Don't come back," he said earnestly, touching George's arm.
"What?"
"Don't come back. This is not a good place. For rich gringos. gringos."
Mills, who was only a delegated gringo, gringo, and for whom wealth and international travel and the perks of life, sleeping in motels and eating out, were merely a.s.signments, was not so much offended as surprised by the old tout's warning. and for whom wealth and international travel and the perks of life, sleeping in motels and eating out, were merely a.s.signments, was not so much offended as surprised by the old tout's warning.
"You listen to him, Misters," the boy said who had watched his car. "Father Merchant is the wisest tout in all Mexico."
"He didn't have such terrific things to say about joo," George said.
"Father Merchant knowing my heart," the boy said sadly.
Mills opened the car door. "Uhn uh, uhn uh," Father Merchant said. "Always is it too hot. Crack the window of the side of the pa.s.senger three inches, and the window of the side of the driver two, to force the circulation of the air. Carry the towel with you to protect yourself when you touch metal surfaces." Mills looked at the wisest tout in all Mexico. "Es verdad," he said. Mills started the engine and began to back out of the s.p.a.ce. The old man walked beside the car, trying to hand a card to him through the open window. Mills stepped on the brake and put the car in neutral.
"Please," he said.
"Nightspot," said Father Merchant, and gave George the card. "Inst.i.tute de Cancer too sad. No cover, no minimum. Very refine. Intimate. No clip joint. Sophisticate. Tell them who sent you, they let you sit ringside, close enough to stick your finger up the pony's a.s.shole. Go, too sad. No cover, no minimum. Very refine. Intimate. No clip joint. Sophisticate. Tell them who sent you, they let you sit ringside, close enough to stick your finger up the pony's a.s.shole. Go, senor. senor. Take the Take the senora. senora. All work and no play make Jack a dull boy." Mills started to back out again. "Father Ixtlan Xalpa Teocaltiche hears confessions in English. Thursday before 6:00 A.M. ma.s.s. He's been to Chicago. Church of the Conquistador Martyrs." Mills was out of the s.p.a.ce and pulled hard on the wheel to turn into the street. The old man called to him through cupped hands. "On Sundays, at the bullfights? All work and no play make Jack a dull boy." Mills started to back out again. "Father Ixtlan Xalpa Teocaltiche hears confessions in English. Thursday before 6:00 A.M. ma.s.s. He's been to Chicago. Church of the Conquistador Martyrs." Mills was out of the s.p.a.ce and pulled hard on the wheel to turn into the street. The old man called to him through cupped hands. "On Sundays, at the bullfights? Sol y sombre? Sol y sombre? Shady side is not always the best choice. You could freeze your nuts off if it's a cool day." Mills could see him now in the rear mirror. " Shady side is not always the best choice. You could freeze your nuts off if it's a cool day." Mills could see him now in the rear mirror. "Don't drink the water!" the old tout shouted.
They sat by the small pool in deep lounges, idly watching children play Marco Polo. The kids had driven most of the grownups out of the water, making it impossible for anyone to swim with their excited thras.h.i.+ng and sudden, abandoned lunges that obliterated the pool's invisible lanes whenever the child who was it it moved away from the coping and plunged, eyes shut tight, toward the voices that answered "Polo" in response to his honor-blind "Marco." moved away from the coping and plunged, eyes shut tight, toward the voices that answered "Polo" in response to his honor-blind "Marco."
Mrs. Glazer seemed rested, looked better. Mills remarked on this. "It's my sunburn," she said. "It covers the jaundice. Oh, Mills," she said, "I've been to the lobby. It's more hospital here than motel. The guests bring their nurses. Some arrive in ambulances. I saw one with New Jersey plates. Have you looked at the room service menu? The salads and entrees have been approved by the clinic's nutritionist. Monks openly solicit money to pray for the remission of your cancer. Urchins show you the candles they'll light if you'll give them some dinner.
"And everyone's so hopeful, Mills! As if the decision to come here, break with their doctors, defy science and throw themselves into all the desperate optimisms of last resort were measures in the cure. I myself have not been unaffected. Why, we've not been here two days yet and already I'm feeling better than I have in weeks. A little, a little I am. Oh, Mills," she said, "how are we to know what is so and what is just psychology?"
"From the blood tests," Mills said, and his charge glanced at him.
"Yes," she said. "Well, what do we do now?"
"Maybe you should rest."
"No. No, I'm not tired."
"Do you want to eat something?"
"I'm not hungry. I'm raring to go. What?"
"Nothing."
"No, what? What is it?"
"A Mex at the clinic gave me a card."
"A card?"
"The address of some nightclub."
"A nightclub? Oh, I don't think I'm up for a nightclub. Oh," she said, "a nightclub, nightclub, a border town nightclub. Exhibitions, you mean. Burros and girls. Fetis.h.i.+sts. Consenting adults. I don't think so, but I'm feeling well enough to spare you. You go, Mills. Take the car." a border town nightclub. Exhibitions, you mean. Burros and girls. Fetis.h.i.+sts. Consenting adults. I don't think so, but I'm feeling well enough to spare you. You go, Mills. Take the car."
"No," he said, ashamed he had spoken. "I don't want to go."
George Mills Part 22
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George Mills Part 22 summary
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