‘No,’ said Villanazul, simply, ‘Gomez.’
They all smiled upon that genius who now circled them with his arms.
‘Are we not fine?’ he wondered. ‘All the same size, all the same dream – the suit. So each of us will look beautiful at least one night each week, eh?’
‘I haven’t looked beautiful in years,’ said Martinez. ‘The girls run away.’
‘They will run no more, they will freeze,’ said Gomez, ‘when they see you in the cool white summer ice-cream suit.’
‘Gomez,’ said Villanazul, ‘just let me ask one thing.’
‘Of course, compadre.’
‘When we get this nice new white ice-cream summer suit, some night you’re not going to put it on and walk down to the Greyhound bus in it and go live in El Paso for a year in it, are you?’
‘Villanazul, Villanazul, how can you say that?’
‘My eye sees and my tongue moves,’ said Villanazul. ‘How about the Everybody Wins! Punchboard Lotteries you ran and you kept running when nobody won? How about the United Chili Con Carne and Frijole Company you were going to organize and all that ever happened was the rent ran out on a two-by-four office?’
‘The errors of a child now grown,’ said Gomez. ‘Enough! In this hot weather, someone may buy the special suit that is made just for us that stands waiting in the window of SHUMWAY’S SUNSHINE SUITS! We have fifty dollars. Now we need just one more skeleton!’
Martinez saw the men peer around the pool-hall. He looked where they looked. He felt his eyes hurry past Vamenos, then come reluctantly back to examine his dirty shirt, his huge nicotined fingers.
‘Me!’ Vamenos burst out, at last. ‘My skeleton, measure it, it’s great! Sure, my hands are big, and my arms, from digging ditches! But –’
Just then Martinez heard passing on the sidewalk outside, that same terrible man with his two girls, all laughing and yelling together.
He saw anguish move like the shadow of a summer cloud on the faces of the other men in this pool-room.
Slowly Vamenos stepped on to the scales and dropped his penny. Eyes closed, he breathed a prayer.
‘Madre mía, please …’
The machinery whirred, the card fell out. Vamenos opened his eyes.
‘Look! One thirty-five pounds! Another miracle!’
The men stared at his right hand and the card, at his left hand and a soiled ten-dollar bill.
Gomez swayed. Sweating, he licked his lips. Then, his hand shot out, seized the money.
‘The clothing store! The suit! Andale!’
Yelling, everyone ran from the pool-room.
The woman’s voice was still squeaking on the abandoned telephone. Martinez, left behind, reached out and hung the voice up. In the silence, he shook his head. ‘Santos, what a dream! Six men,’ he said, ‘one suit. What will come of this? Madness? Debauchery? Murder? But I go with God. Gomez, wait for me!’
Martinez was young. He ran fast.
Mr Shumway, of SHUMWAY’S SUNSHINE SUITS, paused while adjusting a tie-rack, aware of some subtle atmospheric change outside his establishment.
‘Leo,’ he whispered to his assistant. ‘Look …’
Outside, one man, Gomez, strolled by, looking in. Two men. Manulo and Dominguez, hurried by, staring in. Three men, Villanazul, Martinez, and Vamenos, jostling shoulders, did the same.
‘Leo,’ Mr Shumway swallowed. ‘Call the police!’
Suddenly, six men filled the doorway.