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‘Don’t lean against buildings in that suit.’
‘No buildings.’
‘Don’t walk under trees with birds in them, in that suit. Don’t smoke. Don’t drink –’
‘Please,’ said Vamenos, ‘can I sit down in this suit?’
‘When in doubt, take the pants off, fold them over a chair.’
‘Wish me luck,’ said Vamenos.
‘Go with God, Vamenos.’
He went out. He shut the door.
There was a ripping sound.
"Vamenos!’ cried Martinez.
He whipped the door open.
Vamenos stood with two halves of a handkerchief torn in his hands, laughing.
‘Rrrip! Look at your faces! Rrrip!’ He tore the cloth again. ‘Oh, oh, your faces, your faces! Ha!’
Roaring, Vamenos slammed the door, leaving them stunned and alone.
Gomez put both hands on top of his head and turned away. ‘Stone me. Kill me. I have sold our souls to a demon!’
Villanazul dug in his pockets, took out a silver coin and studied it for a long while.
‘Here is my last fifty cents. Who else will help me buy back Vamenos’s share of the suit?’
‘It’s no use.’ Manulo showed them ten cents. ‘We got only enough to buy the lapels and the buttonholes.’
Gomez, at the open window, suddenly leaned out and yelled, ‘Vamenos! No!’
Below on the street, Vamenos, shocked, blew out a match, and threw away an old cigar butt he had found somewhere. He made a strange gesture to all the men in the window above, then waved airily and sauntered on.
Somehow, the five men could not move away from the window. They were crushed together there.
‘I bet he eats a hamburger in that suit,’ mused Villanazul. ‘I’m thinking of the mustard.’
‘Don’t!’ cried Gomez. ‘No, no!’
Manulo was suddenly at the door.
‘I need a drink, bad.’
‘Manulo, there’s wine here, that bottle, on the floor –’
Manulo went out and shut the door.
A moment later, Villanazul stretched with great exaggeration and strolled about the room.
‘I think I’ll walk down to the plaza, friends.’
He was not gone a minute when Dominguez, waving his black book at the others, winked, and turned the doorknob.
