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‘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. ‘If s torn, it must be, it must be, it’s torn, all round, underneath?’
‘No.’ Martinez 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.’ Gomez 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, peónes ! 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 Vame
nos at once.
‘Right leg, easy, hurry, cows! Good! Left leg, now, left, you hear, there, easy, easy ! Ow, God! Quick! Martinez, your pants, take them off!’
‘What?’ Martinez froze.
The siren shrieked.
‘Fool!’ wailed Vamenos. ‘All is lost! Your pants! Give me!’
Martinez jerked at his belt-buckle.
‘Close in, make a circle!’
Dark pants, light pants, flourished on the air.
‘Quick, here come the maniacs with the razors! Right leg on, left leg, there!’
‘The zipper, cows, zip my zipper!’ babbled Vamenos.
The siren died.
‘Madre mía, yes, just in time! They arrive.’ Vamenos lay back down and shut his eyes. ‘Gracias.’
Martinez turned, nonchalantly buckling on the white pants as the internes brushed past.
‘Broken leg,’ said one interne as they moved Vamenos on to a stretcher.
‘Compadres,’ said Vamenos, ‘don’t be mad with me.’
