Cormac McCarthy - Cities of the Plain

Debes salir, she whispered.

PromZteme.

S'. S'. Lo prometo.

When he passed through the salon it was all but empty. The blind pianist who sat in for the string trio at these late hours was at the bench but he was not playing. His young daughter stood beside him. On the piano lay the book which she had been reading to him as he played. John Grady crossed the room and took his last dollar but one and dropped it into the barglass atop the piano. The maestro smiled and bowed slightly. Gracias, he said.

C-mo est++s, said John Grady.

The old man smiled again. My young friend, he said. How are you? You are well?

Yes, thank you. And you?

He shrugged. His thin shoulders rose in the dull black stuff of his suit and fell again. I am well, he said. I am well.

Are you done for the night?

No. We go for our supper.

It is very late.

Oh yes. It is late.

The blind man spoke an oldworld english, a language from another place and time. He steadied himself and rose and turned woodenly.

Will you join us?

No thank you sir. I need to get on.

And how is your suit advancing?

He wasnt sure what that meant. He turned the words over in his mind. The girl, he said.

The old man bowed his head in affirmation.

I dont know, John Grady said. All right, I think. I hope so.

It is an uncertain business, the old man said. You must persevere. To persevere is everything.

Yessir.

The girl had taken her father's hat from the piano and stood holding it. She took his hand but he made no motion to leave. He faced the room, empty save for two whores and a drunk at the bar. We are friends, he said.

Yessir, John Grady said. He wasnt sure of whom the old man spoke.

May I speak in confidence?

Yes.

I believe she is favorable. He placed one delicate and yellowed finger to his lips.

Thank you sir. I appreciate that.

Of course. He held out one hand palm up and the girl placed the brim of his hat in his grip and he took it in both hands and turned and placed it on his head and looked up.

Do you think she's a good person? John Grady said.

Oh my, said the blind man. Oh my.

I think she is.

Oh my, said the blind man.

John Grady smiled. I'll let you get on to your supper. He nodded to the girl and turned to go.

Her condition, the blind man said. You know her condition?

He turned back. Sir? he said.

Little is known. There is a great deal of superstition. Here they are divided in two camps. Some take a benign view and others do not. You see. But this is my belief. My belief is that she is at best a visitor. At best. She does not belong here. Among us.

Yessir. I know she dont belong here.

No, said the blind man. I do not mean in this house. I mean here. Among us.

He walked back through the streets. Carrying the blind man's words concerning his prospects as if they were a contract with the world to come. Cold as it was the Ju++renses stood in the open doorways and smoked or called to one another. Along the sandy unpaved streets nightvendors trundled their carts or drove their small burros before them. They called out leeenya. They called out queroseeena. Plying the darkened streets and calling out like old suitors in search themselves of maids long lost to them.

HE WAITED but she didnt come. He stood at the window with the hangings of old lace gathered back in his hand and watched the life in the streets. Anyone who would have looked up to see him there behind the untrue panes of dusty glass could have told his story. The afternoon grew quiet. Across the street a merchant closed and locked the iron shutters of his hardware shop. A taxi stopped in front of the hotel and he leaned with his face against the cold pane but he could not see if anyone got out. He turned and went to the door and opened it and walked out to the head of the stairwell where he could look down into the lobby. No one came. When he went back and stood at the window again the taxi was gone. He sat on the bed. The shadows grew long. After a while it was dark in the room and the green neon of the hotel sign came on outside the window and after a while he rose and took his hat from the top of the bureau and went out. He turned at the door and looked back into the room and then pulled the door shut behind him. If he'd stood longer he'd have passed the criada La Tuerta in the shabby stairwell instead of the lobby as he did, he any lodger, she any old woman with one clouded eye struggling in from the street. He stepped out into the cool evening and she labored up the stairs and knocked at the door and waited and knocked again. A door down the hallway opened and a man looked out. He told her that he had no towels.

HE WAS LYING on his bunk staring up at the roughsawed boards of the ceiling of the bunkroom when Billy came and stood in the doorway. He was slightly drunk. His hat was pushed back on his head. What say, cowboy, he said. Hey Billy. How you doin? I'm doin all right. Where'd you all go? We went to a dance at Mesilla. Who all went? Everbody but you. He sat in the doorway and jacked one boot against the jamb and took off his hat and put it on his knee and leaned his head back. John Grady watched him. Did you dance? Danced my ass off. I didnt know you were a big dancer. I aint. I guess you give it your best. It's a thing that's got to be seen. Oren tells me that squirrelheaded horse you think so much of is eatin out of your hand. That might be a bit of an exaggeration. What do you tell em? Who? Horses. I dont know. The truth. I guess it's a trade secret. No. How can you lie to a horse? He turned and looked at John Grady. I dont know, the boy said. Do you mean how do you go about it or how can you bring yourself to do it? Go about it. I dont know. I think it's just what's in your heart. You think a horse knows what's in your heart? Yeah. Dont you? Billy didnt answer. After a while he said: Yeah. I do. I aint a very good liar. You just aint had enough practice at it.

Down the barn bay in the stalls they could hear the wheeze and stir of the animals.

Have you got a girl you're seein?

John Grady crossed his boots one over the other. Yeah, he said. Tryin to.

JC said you did.

How did JC know?

He just said you manifested all the symptoms.

Manifested?

Yeah.

What are they?

He didnt say. You intend to bring her around some time where we can get a look at her?

Yeah. I'll bring her around.

Well.

He took his hat from his knee and put it on his head and rose. Billy?

Yeah.

I'll tell you about it. It's kind of a mess. Right now I'm just a bit wore out.

I dont doubt it for a minute, cowboy. I'll see you in the mornin.

HE WENT the following week with no more money in his pocket than would buy a drink at the bar. He watched her in the mirror. She sat upright alone on the dark velvet couch with her hands composed in her lap like a debutante. He drank the whiskey slowly. When he looked in the mirror again he thought she had been watching him. He finished the whiskey and paid for it and turned to go. He had not meant to look directly at her but he did. He could not even imagine her life.

He got his hat and gave the woman the last of his change and she smiled and thanked him and he put his hat on and turned. He had his hand on the ornate onyx handle of the door when one of the waiters stepped in front of him.

Un momento, he said.

He stopped. He looked at the hatcheck girl and he looked at the waiter.

The waiter stood between him and the door. The girl, he said. She say you no forget her.

He looked toward the salon but he could not see her from the door.

Digame? he said.

She say you no.

En espa-ol, por favor. D'game en espa-ol to que dice ella.

The man would not. He repeated the words again in english and then he turned and was gone.