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Vamenos, surprised, whirled, saw a car, heard the shriek of brakes.
“No,” said all five men on the sidewalk.
Martínez 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. Martínez felt his own fist pounding his heart in agony. He could not move his feet.
“I don’t want to live,” said Gómez quietly. “Kill me, someone.”
Then, shuffling, Martínez 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 Martínez. “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.
“The suit, what have I done to the suit, the suit, the suit!”
The men crouched lower.
“Vamenos, it’s … why, it’s okay!”
“You lie!” said Vamenos. “It’s torn, it must be, it must be, it’s torn, all around, underneath?”
“No.” Martínez knelt and touched here and there. “Vamenos, all around, underneath even, it’s okay!”
Vamenos opened his eyes to let the tears run free at last. “A miracle,” he sobbed. “Praise the saints!” He quieted at last. “The car?”
“Hit and run.” Gómez suddenly remembered and glared at the empty street. “It’s good he didn’t stop. We’d have—”
Everyone listened.
Distantly a siren wailed.
“Someone phoned for an ambulance.”
“Quick!” said Vamenos, eyes rolling. “Set me up! Take off our coat!”
“Vamenos—”
“Shut up, idiots!” cried Vamenos. “The coat, that’s it! Now, the pants, the pants, quick, quick, peones! Those doctors! You seen movies? They rip the pants with razors to get them off! They don’t care! They’re maniacs! Ah, God, quick, quick!”
The siren screamed.
The men, panicking, all handled Vamenos at once.
“Right leg, easy, hurry, cows! Good! Left leg, now, left, you hear, there, easy, easy! Ow, God! Quick! Martínez, your pants, take them off!”
“What?” Martínez froze.
The siren shrieked.
“Fool!” wailed Vamenos. “All is lost! Your pants! Give me!” Martínez jerked at his belt buckle.
