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“You’re right,” he said. “I guess I’m not thinking very clearly.”
“I wonder why not?” Mother Superior said, as she took his pulse. “When was the last time you had something to eat?”
“Lunch,” he said.
Mother Superior looked at Ashton.
“When el Coronel Frade is finished giving his orders, wake up a cook and have him ready to prepare a couple steaks for these two when they wake up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ashton said.
“Wake up?” Clete challenged. “What makes you think I’m going to sleep? I can’t afford to go to sleep.”
She snorted.
“And have el Jefe find Dorotea,” Frade went on, “and tell her we’re all right. Personally. Not over the telephone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is that all?” Mother Superior asked. “If so, just lie there quietly and let the transfusion work.”
“I’ll take care of everything, Colonel,” Ashton said.
Clete lowered his head to the pillow, and then had one more thought and raised his head.
“Make sure no one gets off the hill and starts talking,” he said. “‘You’ll never believe who’s in the infirmary.’”
“No one will,” Ashton said.
Then Clete had one more thought.
“Do something about Colonel Perón’s uniform. Get it cleaned somehow.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I said lie there quietly!” Mother Superior ordered, then waved everyone out of the room.
Clete lowered his head again and looked at the ceiling.
The ceiling lights went out, leaving only a small table light to illuminate the room.
He looked at Perón and found Perón’s eyes on him.
“Now that they’ve gone, I’ve got something to say,” Perón said.
Now what?
“We both know there has been bad blood between us, Cletus. But the blood flowing from your veins into mine has wiped that slate clean. God has changed all that. I have realized the godfather-godson relationship works both ways: God sent you to help me, to help Argentina just when we needed help most!”
Jesus Christ, does he believe that?
Even more incredibly, does he expect me to believe it?
“Greater love hath no man than to lay down his life for another,” Perón went on. “You did that for me. General Martín did that for me. Even Suboficial Mayor Rodríguez did that for me. For Argentina!”
He’s delirious! Out of his gourd!
Clete closed his eyes.
