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“Late! It’s only nine-fifteen!”
“Late?” said everyone, bristling. “Late?”
Gómez edged away from these men who glared from him to the suit to the open window.
Outside and below it was, after all, thought Martínez, a fine Saturday night in a summer month and through the calm warm darkness the women drifted like flowers on a quiet stream. The men made a mournful sound.
“Gómez, a suggestion.” Villanazul licked his pencil and drew a chart on a pad. “You wear the suit from nine-thirty to ten, Manulo till ten-thirty, Domínguez till eleven, myself till eleven-thirty, Martínez till midnight, and—”
“Why me last?” demanded Vamenos, scowling.
Martínez thought quickly and smiled. “After midnight is the best time, friend.”
“Hey,” said Vamenos, “that’s right. I never thought of that. Okay.”
Gómez sighed. “All right. A half hour each. But from now on, remember, we each wear the suit just one night a week. Sundays we draw straws for who wears the suit the extra night.”
“Me!” laughed Vamenos. “I’m lucky!”
Gómez held onto Martínez, tight.
“Gómez,” urged Martínez, “you first. Dress.”
Gómez could not tear his eyes from that disreputable Vamenos. At last, impulsively, he yanked his shirt off over his head. “Ay-yeah!” he howled. “Ay-yeee!”
Whisper rustle … the clean shirt.
“Ah …!”
How clean the new clothes feel, thought Martínez, holding the coat ready. How clean they sound, how clean they smell!
Whisper … the pants … the tie, rustle … the suspenders. Whisper … now Martínez let loose the coat, which fell in place on flexing shoulders.
“Ole!”
Gómez turned like a matador in his wondrous suit-of-lights.
“Ole, Gómez, ole!”
Gómez bowed and went out the door.
Martínez fixed his eyes to his watch. At ten sharp he heard someone wandering about in the hall as if they had forgotten where to go. Martínez pulled the door open and looked out.
Gómez was there, heading for nowhere.
He looks sick, thought Martínez. No, stunned, shook up, surprised, many things.
“Gómez! This is the place!”
Gómez turned around and found his way through the door.
“Oh, friends, friends,” he said. “Friends, what an experience! This suit! This suit!”
“Tell us, Gómez!” said Martínez.
“I can’t, how can I say it!” He gazed at the heavens, arms spread, palms up.
“Tell us, Gómez!”
