Part 8
It bothered Betty, "You never explained your feelings about that Gorda woman. You just shrug or giggle to get my goat."
"Never found anything else to get your goat. That was years ago — I guess it's safe now to say she turned me on.
"In what way did she turn you on?"
"Er . . . uh . . . I was fascinated about what went on inside her neural system — all those climaxes, each one bigger than the last."
"Hmm, just a scientific study?"
"Yes, that's it !" Bill clutched at the excuse. "The scene only made me want to renew your acquaintance."
Betty was nearly satisfied, "Then how come we didn't . . . do anything until after we'd cleared Veracruz?"
"You have to be kidding. We didn't get a chance."
. . .
(Veracruz) "Here." Lilia indicated the turn into her family villa. Expansive grounds surrounded a ranch-style house on the outskirts of Veracruz. Superficially, it appeared there was no security; the double gates stood open and one could easily crawl over the low fence. However, grounds keepers were always in sight, gardening, pruning, digging, mowing and all were armed with either a pistol belt or a shoulder weapon slung across his back.
The evening meal was formal in honor of Lilia's return. As lady of the house (her father was a widower), she ruled that guests could wear a peasant blouse and skirt or bib overalls. Retiring to their room rather late, the visitors immediately fell asleep.
Ruben Leon arrived the next day. "We must talk. Please, come sit." he invited. Although overweight and distinguished gray, he didn't look like a businessman. He had returned from the country, wearing work clothes, and had not yet bathed. "Señor Franker, I was prepared to pay a large ransom of 150,000 U.S. dollars and was only working out a safe way to do it for my daughter's sake." He smiled at Lilia. "I would much rather give you the gift than pay ransom to those kidnappers. The Fat Lady of Death, you say?"
"Thank you, sir, a fine gesture. But such a gift would be reduced by taxes in the U.S. by forty percent. I would rather leave it with you than pay that extortion." Bill was nervous about speaking for both himself and his wife. "May I speak to Señora Bety? We Anglos live in the shadow of our women."
Betty interjected, "That sounds good to me. It's the thought that counts." The ball was returned to Sr. Leon's court.
Ruben shook his head, "There must be something I can do. But you will stay one more day and rest up? Tonight is The Festival to Celebrate Festivals and Lilia will guide you."
Despite the firecrackers, water bombs, tequila, and traditional Aztec masks, it wasn't much fun for the Anglos. Lilia met with her man friend, all on the up-and-up because of chaperons — there were two bodyguards to look after her. Quite serious about their charge, the Indian fellows wore inside-the-pants holsters under loose Hawaiian shirts.
"I don't like him much, he's a snob." Betty referred to Lilia's suitor, "No wonder she's twenty-seven and not married."
"Aw, he's okay. Lilia likes him. And there they go." Lilia and friend disappeared into a marching band and blazing fireworks. Her guards hurried to keep her in sight and put a stop to whatever they had in mind.
"Might as well drink our beer. Only way back to the villa is by cab and I don't know the way. Uh-oh, those Mexicans over there." he nodded in the direction.
There were no less than a hundred Mexicans where he indicated, mixed and confused by a good portion of Europeans. But Betty picked them out immediately by their demeanor and cowboy hats. She had seen these two somewhere before, "The fat lady !" She scrambled into the crowd away from them, upsetting her chair. Bill tipped their sidewalk table over as he followed.
"Into the alley." Bill pulled her after him.
Betty exclaimed, " Lilia ! "
Lilia and her date had shaken the chaperons and stood, straining against one another. um. . .mm m. . .mmf They kissed and embraced.
"Sorry, kids, La Mujer Gorda. Run for it." Bill skidded to a stop at a low-walled trash barge. He jerked Betty to keep her from falling. "In here — pull the cardboard over us."
She tripped, fell in, and crouched, pulling rubbish around herself. Bill dragged a slab of corrugated cardboard on top and hunkered. Betty felt his arm around her shoulder and reached for his hand. She ran her fingers through a cantaloupe rind and croaked, "This is garbage !"
"Hush. I hear them coming."
"Bil? Bety?" it was Lilia's voice, "These are our men. Where are you?" One of the goons gingerly lifted the paper cover and gazed down at the palefaces, plastered with brown lettuce. His face held no expression at all. Another of Leon's men tilted his straw hat back and looked, for all the world, like the compassionate Virgin Mary. After viewing the mess, Lilia discreetly disappeared with her man friend.
"Either of you fellows know how to laugh?" and Bill began to howl with laughter. One guy joined in the mirth, and even Stoneface cracked a smile. Betty, regretting her newly acquired fragrance, was happy not to be captured again by gangsters. But funny? Afraid not.
The men delivered a message that the Omni had been towed from the grounds for service. The tourists asked for a ride to the villa. "Damn, didn't even get a beer out of the deal."
The night man offered cerveza in their room. "Would it be possible to have one in the kitchen? That's what we'd do in New Mexico." The Americans sat with the butler and his wife at the kitchen table. One by one, men came in from the grounds for a snack or a beer. "¡Por la fiesta!", "¡Mucho gusto!", "¡Salud!" The company and beer were good. So passed the holiday until bedtime at two o'clock in the morning.
The car repairs took two days because of difficulty in finding parts for the automatic transmission. It was returned sparkling clean, inside and out, and with new suspension components. Michelins replaced the old tires, which were original equipment on the car and were awfully worn at 60,000 miles.
An extra night was spent at the Leon residence. "I can't do it in someone else's house."
"Let's just cuddle."
"You feel so good."
" snore, honk ", uttered Bill.
The next day, Bill was driving cross-country north of Veracruz. "The mechanics did something to get rid of our air-box buzz." He noticed a car tailing them, "Looks like Leon has sent an escort."
Betty turned to see, "Most cars would have passed by this time. Here it comes now." The black car moved up to ride the Dodge's bumper. A cowboy drove, a woman sat shotgun, and there were two men in the back. Betty shrieked, "It's them, La Gorda !"
Bill put the pedal to the metal and swerved to the middle of the road. The big sedan sailed by with ease and the tourists were given the international one-finger salute for trying to impede progress. "You are paranoid, woman."
"And you ain't? You're the one with clinched teeth."