Herman came out. He had Bill with him. Herman leaned on the jeep, said, “You won’t be flying out tonight. Irvin is so stoned he’s passed out on the floor next to a jukebox. He got in some kind of fight with a Mexican and got his block knocked off pretty good too.”
“Shit,” Leonard said.
“What about Red?” Brett asked.
“He’s pretty drunk himself,” Bill said.
“I was just hoping he was dead,” Brett said.
“Hap needs a doctor,” Leonard said. “Got any ideas?”
“I can ask around,” Bill said. “I think I can find enough Spanish in my memory to do that.”
“You do that,” Leonard said. “And that doesn’t mean drink more first. I want Hap with a doctor. I want him with one pronto. I don’t hear from you quick, you’re gonna need a doctor. Comprende, amigo?”
“I don’t like to be threatened, black man,” Bill said.
“It ain’t no threat, red man, it’s a promise.”
Herman got in behind the wheel, started up the Jeep. “We’ll be out at the plane,” he said.
I passed out somewhere between the little town and the plane, and when I awoke I was lying across the plane’s seats, stripped down to my underwear. A little Mexican man with a wart on his cheek about the size of a doorknob and a hairdo that looked to be about three-fourths Wesson oil was poking at me with a pair of long bloody tweezers. There was blood all over the tweezers. He was dropping pellets from my side into a coffee can. When he saw I was awake, he nodded, smiled, poked the tweezers into my side, pulled out another pellet.
He carefully rolled me on my back and started probing at my shoulder and thigh wound with his fingertips, which didn’t look all that clean.
“You have to do that?” I said.
“He doesn’t speak English,” Herman said.
I turned my head. Sitting nearby were Leonard, Brett, and Herman. Bill was standing up, smoking a cigarette. I didn’t see Tillie, Red, or Irvin.
The Mexican turned and spoke to Herman. Herman nodded, said to me, “He says you’re not too messed up. Lead went through your shoulder. There’s a piece in your thigh that’ll take more work than he’s willing to do. He’s stuffed some gauze in the wound, and he’s picked out all the buckshot you got in your side. None of it went in straight on. Just the pellets from the shotgun, and you caught the far edge of the spray. Still, you need blood.”
“Then let’s get him some blood,” Leonard said.
“This guy, he does abortions mostly,” Herman said. “Delivers babies. He’s not a real doctor.”
“Me and Hap had a veterinarian work on us once,” Leonard said. “We’re not proud.”
“He doesn’t have access to blood,” Herman said. “He’s just telling you so you’ll know.”
“Shit,” Leonard said. “I could have told him that.”
“What we got to do is sober Irvin up,” Brett said.
Bill shook his head. “I don’t think so. We’re not talking a little drunk, we’re talking about being so fuckin’ drunk he’ll wake up speaking in tongues. Thing we got to do is let him sleep it off, lay around tomorrow, fly out when it’s solid dark. Then, if the Border Patrol doesn’t catch us, and my guess is they won’t because they never have, we end up back at the hangar. You folks go your way, and I go mine, and we never do business again.”
“But we can send you a Christmas card?” I said.
“A little candy on Valentine’s would be all right too,” Bill said.
“All this sounds like a lot of waiting for blood,” Leonard said.
“I can make it,” I said. “Leonard’s just scared I’m going to die and leave my dirty underwear under his couch. Where is Irvin?”
“He’s outside under the plane,” Bill said. “Me and Herman went and got him. He was still passed out, so we stretched him out there.”
“And Red?”
“He was at the cantina, pretty drunk. Doing handstands and stuff. He was trying to make the Mexican drunks in there understand he wanted a big dog to ride and he was showing them his dick, dipping it into a glass of tequila. He passed out on the way here. We left him in the jeep.”
“This sitting around bothers me,” Leonard said. “Those assholes will change tires on the other jeep, and someone in town will talk.”
“They might change tires,” Herman said, “but they’re going to have hell going anywhere with all the dirt I put in the gas tank. Pissed in it too. And it won’t do them a lot of good with the wires ripped out from under the hood and the gear shift bent.”
“Good for you, Herman,” I said.
“They could come by horse or mule,” Leonard said.
“They could,” Herman said. “I think they’re so stoned they’ll do good to stand up, let alone saddle and ride a horse. My guess is they got to wait about as long as Irvin’s got to wait.”
“From your mouth to God’s ear,” Brett said.
“Where’s Tillie?” I asked.
“At the back of the plane, sleeping,” Brett said. “They had her on something strong. Or she had herself on it. She’s really wiped out.”
“I think we take turns at watch,” Leonard said. “I don’t like being surprised.”
“Very well,” Bill said. “I’ll go first.”
The Mexican held out his hand, said something to Herman. Herman said, “He wants money.”
