Part 16
Betty came into the bathroom and caught him just as he began to empty the tub. "You left it clean, let me use it." She climbed right in and backed up against the end. "Come back in. There is room if you don’t mind being intimate."
The codger didn’t have a lick of sense. Visions of lovely, swaying boobs persisted in his brain, and the real thing floated, waiting for him, on top the water below his greedy eyes. He had a flashback to the company house in Ciudad Madero.
. . .
(Madero) Mona was away from her desk and the new office boy was gone. "Let’s go on in. One or another of the lawyers should be here." The American tourist couple froze in their tracks at the threshold of the inner office. Cil sat sidesaddle on Jorge’s lap. Both were mindless to anything but themselves.
Bill reacted first. He pulled his wife away from the inner door and quietly exited to the hallway. Stomping loudly, they reentered, talking like a couple of Texans, "Sure is quiet. Wonder if anyone is here."
"Sure hope old Jorge has his pants on."
The young couple blushed. They knew they had been caught but didn’t know how much. Jorge twisted his tie straight, not realizing his shirt was unbuttoned, "Hola, friends. Did you like the company house?" Cil stood primly with the knotted outline of panties, showing through her skirt, just above knee level.
Bill was a little embarrassed to offer, "Betty has found a . . . plumbing fixture. You ask, honey."
"Oh, Cil, I found a humongous tub that we will pay for if you let us install it."
"No problem — there are no fixtures yet. Why this tub?" Cil sat briefly behind the desk and pretended to look into a drawer. When she arose, the panty line was gone.
"Wait till you see it. It looks like it’s built for two people to . . . you know, be together in."
Jorge began to share Bill’s nervous discomfiture. Cil got the idea too. She joined Betty in female enthusiasm over such a nonutilitarian indulgence. "Such a nice thing. It will suggest to guests that the house is a home."
Betty added, "Or that the home is a ‘house’. In the U.S., a place with prostitutes is called simply a house."
"I knew that." Jorge said with his polished English. "Where is this fixture to be found? It will be done by this evening. You wish to use the house, Bill?" He was trying to button his shirt without anyone noticing.
Cil was exited, "You will be the first to try it. You must, since you have relinquished the beach house in Tamiahua. We . . . Jorge intended to occupy it to see that it was livable." She blushed, her well-modulated Mexican genes forming the most rosy highlight in her cheeks.
Bill casually suggested, "Would you ladies allow me a word with Jorge?" He sat behind the desk as the women left the room, bubbling with girl talk. He spoke as he idly peeked into a couple of drawers, "Son, I know your family isn’t available. Please consider me your compadre for support, as a confidant, anything."
The younger man knew what Bill was talking about but protested, "Thank you, but I am fine."
"You are more than fine, you have an opportunity for heaven." The compadre tossed a pair of ladies’ panties onto the desk, "Our cultures are different, but I firmly believe that humanity is universal. Betty and I have experience that might be useful to you."
Jorge decided to come clean, "Cecília and I are working together to discover many things, and some are difficult. We will heed your words."
"Is that an ice box? Is there any beer in it? Does Cil like beer?"
At the company’s beach house, Betty removed her blouse, exposing dirty rings on her bra. "I love the idea of the tub. It’s going to be perfect for two people."
"Just one person can’t lay back without sliding under. I suppose I have to join you." he said with mock despair. "Can I bring my beer?" he kicked his huaraches off and followed her. Bill helped her ease into the water.
"How do we do this?"
"You like to bend your knees a little so I’ll extend my legs under you." They arranged their limbs comfortably and Betty picked up the sponge. He volunteered, "Let me give you a hand. I can reach most of you better than you can." He plucked the sponge out of her grasp and began to work in slow circles.
(Monterrey) Bill’s birthday was approaching and Betty was inspired to give him the finest gift he could wish for. She bought a one year-old Jeep Cherokee and tested the 4-wheel drive in a gravel pit where they practiced shooting. Except for an unequal distribution of torque to its wheels and a side window replaced by heavy plastic, it seemed to be faultless. The price was cheap because it had automatic transmission. She retained the Dodge Omni because the dealer wouldn’t touch another automatic.
Bill screamed with disappointment, "Argh ! We just got the Dodge where it is reliable. We loose its badges of service and souvenirs. The tragedy of it all." He calmed some when he found they still had the Omni, but it would end up in Jorge’s hands to dispose of. "How much money do we have left in the Tampico account?"
"One hundred and fifty mil pesos, the Jeep only cost 18 mil. Bill honey, you were supposed to be pleased."
"I guess I am. Did you check the four-wheel drive? Do the papers look clean? Those Veracruz plates look funny. Hey, this thing is big enough to sleep in."
Stuffed animals have different functions in the U.S. and Mexico. Appearing to be cuddly children’s toys, the Mexican effigies are hollow and fragile so they can double as a piñata. They look no more like the animal they mimic than the Anglo version. That is, they are fuzzy, but without the sweet innocence so popular in the U.S. Betty purchased the best teddy bear replicas she could find, but the bulging eyes were those of an Aztec war god and the muzzles were realistically longer with curled lips, baring the fangs of a jungle cat.
The Americans were finally on their way home to New Mexico, and the beach house in Madero was on their way out of town. "These are house warming gifts for Cil and Jorge. I have no doubt they will be the next visitors, maybe tonight." At the house, Betty pulled slowly to the side of the road, "Didn’t we close the front door when we left this morning?"
"I know damn well we did. It doesn’t lock, but it closes well. You stay here."
"Baloney." She extracted the pistol from her purse and followed him to the front where they tried to peek in through windows.
Betty nudged the door and it swung open, exposing the entire interior except the bed and bath. They crept in and poised, weapons at the ready, around the corner from the bath.
Bill took a breath and eased an eye around the corner. He thought he saw something and jerked back. He gave Betty a quizzical expression. All was deathly silent as he again took a look and studied the room. He moved away from the door jam, inviting his wife to see.
Cil’s profile, from the shoulders up, sitting in the tub, met her eyes. The young woman was nearly motionless, but not quite. Her wild black hair gyrated ever so slightly. Betty saw that the girl’s eyes were closed and her lips were parted. There was the smallest splash and a full head of hair bobbed over the tub’s rim. The girl jerked slightly and Jorge’s forehead and closed eyes showed momentarily. A barely audible moan escaped one of them.
Betty retreated and faced her wide-eyed husband just as a yelp was heard from the bath. She had never before heard the Spanish words of passion but understood every one.
The old people tiptoed from the house, pursued by a noisy chorus of unintelligible sounds and splashing water. Bill jammed his pistol into his belt and returned to the house with the grizzly bears, leaving them just inside the door. ". . . so they will know that we know."
He hurried back to the car, "I wanted to talk to Jorge about birth control. I thought, no, they are enlightened young people. I hope so."
"The kids are okay, Bill. Anyway, they are so much in love, they need to have a baby."
"They ain’t married yet." he grumped, "It would ruin Olmec Ventures. The whole world is going to hell."
giggle "No it’s not. How far can we go today? Let’s figure three days to the border." She guided the Jeep onto an arterial highway.
"Nope. Aliens will descend on us before the day is out."
One hundred miles along, Betty noticed they had used three-quarters tank of gas. "You don’t suppose the gauge is wrong?"
"No idea what the capacity is. I wish we had the owner’s manual. Better fill it the first chance you get. That would be Victoria if we can get that far."
Betty pulled into a tourist-oriented gas station in Victoria. "I guess we better stick with magna sin until we find out more about this Cherokee." The attendant pumped and pumped much longer than she thought necessary. She argued with him in Spanish, "Seventy-five liters? You thug, that’s . . ." she halted to figure the gallons.
Bill paid for the gasoline and finished for her, "Twenty gallons. This is bound to have a larger tank than your Omni." Unfortunately, the tank had not been filled in Tampico, and they couldn’t figure the gas mileage.
"I don’t like this traffic. Look, this secondary road is only a little farther. We can see the same country and be able to watch it." They pulled onto a slightly improved mountain road and changed drivers. Soon, conditions deteriorated and they were forced to test the four-wheel drive.
"This will take a lot longer than we expected. What is that funny grinding noise?"
"Every time it makes that noise, one wheel spins and the others stop driving." grunch The vehicle ground to a stop and the engine died.
Bill spent the balance of the day under the truck, backward engineering the inside-the-car, selective-drive mechanism. "Sure glad we salvaged the tools we had in the Omni. This would be easier with old-fashioned manual hubs." He busted his knuckles and twisted his back, groveling in the dust and gravel. It began to rain, and Betty retreated into the vehicle. "Hey, it’s too dark to see to work anymore. Open the tailgate for me, I’m coming in."
Betty threw the rear door open as he wriggled from beneath into the mud and rain. Laboriously, he crawled inside the Jeep, groaning over a displaced lumbar. She had taken stock, "We have plenty to eat for supper and breakfast. How’s it going under there? My poor darling, happy birthday." They slept comfortably with their sleeping bags on the cargo deck of the big car.
The next morning, Bill threw some leftover parts into the Jeep, "The front drive is disabled. I lost the gear-case oil but that doesn’t matter if it isn’t driving . . . I think. We have rear-wheel drive only. You drive, my back hurts too much."
They continued on, to the north. The gas gauge indicated empty as they pulled onto a highway. pook poop The auto jerked to a stop within five miles of Linares in Nuevo Leon. The Jeep’s gas mileage proved to be twelve miles per gallon on the highway and eight off the road, about a third that of the Omni.
The tourists holed up in Monterrey for two weeks, waiting for parts and repairs. While they were at it, they replaced the original equipment tires, "Four hundred and fifty pesos each? You crook, a Michelin for my Dodge only cost 160."
"The jeep goes around corners like a Winnebago motor home. This is God’s punishment for being wealthy in a poor country. Betty, when we get home, we want to trade it away. I hope your feelings aren’t hurt. What was the total bill?"
She shuddered, "Over 1,300 American dollars. That doesn’t count the four or five hundred we’ve spent waiting on it. Live and learn."