The Day it Rained Forever

‘I can’t see!’ Gomez squinted, shielding his eyes. ‘What’s he doing?’

Martinez peered. Yes! There, way back in the shadows, was a big chunk of snow, and the idiot smile of Vamenos winking above it, wreathed in smoke.

‘He’s smoking!’ said Martinez.

‘He’s drinking!’ said Dominguez.

‘He’s eating a taco!’ reported Villanazul.

‘A juicy taco,’ added Manulo.

‘No,’ said Gomez. ‘No, no, no …’

‘Ruby Escadrillo’s with him!’

‘Let me see that!’ Gomez pushed Martinez aside.

Yes, there was Ruby! Two hundred pounds of glittering sequins and tight black satin on the hoof, her scarlet fingernails clutching Vamenos’s shoulder. Her cow-like face, floured with powder, greasy with lipstick, hung over him!

‘That hippo!’ said Dominguez. ‘She’s crushing the shoulder pads. Look, she’s going to sit on his lap!’

‘No, no, not with all that powder and lipstick!’ said Gomez. ‘Manulo, inside! Grab that drink! Villanazul, the cigar, the taco! Dominguez, date Ruby Escadrillo, get her away. Ándale, men!’

The three vanished, leaving Gomez and Martinez to stare, gasping, through the peephole.

‘Manulo, he’s got the drink, he’s drinking it!’

‘Olé! There’s Villanazul, he’s got the cigar, he’s eating the taco!’

‘Hey, Dominguez, he’s got Ruby! What a brave one!’

A shadow bulked through Murillo’s front door, travelling fast.

‘Gomez!’ Martinez clutched Gomez’s arm. ‘That was Ruby Escadrillo’s boy friend, Bull La Jolla. If he finds her with Vamenos, the ice-cream suit will be covered with blood, covered with blood –’

‘Don’t make me nervous,’ said Gomez. ‘Quickly!’

Both ran. Inside, they reached Vamenos just as Bull La Jolla grabbed about two feet of the lapels of that wonderful ice-cream suit.

‘Let go of Vamenos!’ said Martinez.

‘Let go that suit !’ corrected Gomez.

Bull La Jolla, tap-dancing Vamenos, leered at these intruders.

Villanazul stepped up, shyly.

Villanazul smiled. ‘Don’t hit him. Hit me.’

Bull La Jolla hit Villanazul smack on the nose.

Villanazul, holding his nose, tears stinging his eyes, wandered off.

Gomez grabbed one of Bull La Jolla’s arms, Martinez the other.

‘Drop him, let go, peón, coyote, vaca!!’

Bull La Jolla twisted the ice-cream suit material until all six men screamed in mortal agony. Grunting, sweating, Bull La Jolla dislodged as many as climbed on. He was winding up to hit Vamenos when Villanazul wandered back, eyes streaming.

‘Don’t hit him. Hit me!’

As Bull La Jolla hit Villanazul on the nose, a chair crashed on Bull’s head.

‘Olé!’ said Gomez.

Bull La Jolla swayed, blinking, debating whether to fall. He began to drag Vamenos with him.

‘Let go!’ cried Gomez. ‘Let go!’

One by one, with great care, Bull La Jolla’s banana-like fingers let loose of the suit. A moment later he was ruins at their feet.

‘Compadres, this way!’

They ran Vamenos outside and set him down where he freed himself of their hands with injured dignity.

‘Okay, okay. My time ain’t up. I still got two minutes and, let’s see – ten seconds.’

‘What!’ said everybody.

‘Vamenos,’ said Gomez, ‘you let a Guadalajara cow climb on you, you pick fights, you smoke, you drink, you eat tacos, and now you have the nerve to say your time ain’t up?’

‘I got two minutes and one second left!’

‘Hey, Vamenos, you sure look sharp!’ Distantly, a woman’s voice called from across the street.

Vamenos smiled and buttoned his coat.

‘It’s Ramona Alvarez! Ramona, wait!’ Vamenos stepped off the curb.

‘Vamenos,’ pleaded Gomez. ‘What can you do in one minute and –’ he checked his watch. ‘Forty seconds!’

‘Watch! Hey, Ramona!’

Vamenos loped.

‘Vamenos, look out!’

Vamenos, surprised, whirled, saw a car, heard the shriek of brakes.