worked in her favor) a sentence that had to have been a boon: I am a temptress for him and a great ideal. Half true, half false, but who cares? The essence would keep churning away, way down deep, and the only bad part, of course, would be a long lapse before Demetrio’s response …
In 1946, Sacramento had no telegraph service. How long would it take for this miracle to occur?
14
A very elaborate kiss midst formless gray clouds. The small plane tossed about as the pilot, feeling responsible, steered in vain. Its rising and falling was astounding, as was the tongue and lip action of the fleeing lovebirds, who kept up their mutual exploration rather than disengaging out of fear: for a mere moment, but no, not even that, the opposite: Demetrio began caressing Mireya’s legs and breasts, to which she responded by zeroing in on the site of his member and inundating that area with a flood of caresses: such alacrity!: in full view of the astonished adjacent passengers, who were—how can we put this?—betwixt and between nervous and unnerved. So, no, disengaging was not forthcoming, despite it all, but rather an increase of mischievous manipulation, the search in tandem above and beyond with tongues and lips and, moreover, pure passion. Then came a chorus of throat clearings accompanied by recriminating stares. If the small plane crashed, that mortal kiss would become an eternal seal, or so it seemed to any passengers who might have had such thoughts. Therein the mouth-gaping shrieks commenced—of the dying, or whom? Fortunately, the plane’s convulsions ceased just moments later, finally there was calm, finally there rose timid applause, now clearly called for. Yes, now, along with a normal flight pattern, there was a disengagement: finally, some decency, some prudence. The lovebirds smiled, then blushed: everything in order, until Mireya in a low voice dropped the following bomb:
“I’m pregnant with your child.”
“What?”
“Uh-huh, I thought it better to wait to tell you once we were already on our way.”
“Really! A baby … What a surprise! My love … Hmm … What do you know … Well, we must certainly give him the best education.”
“Oh, dearest, I worship you.”
However, not so much as a single kiss of gratitude. The other passengers were trying to find out if another long kiss would ensue, but no, not now, or they wondered why the man seemed so tense, for he suddenly decided to look out the window at who knows what loomings. The severity of an angry face—perhaps? Anyway … Landing anon. Imminent measures of some gravity (this said with a double meaning). And now we must skip ahead to catch up with them on the bus to Cuautla. More gravity: predominating: a sham. Mireya had lied. Surely it was nothing but a hackneyed trick, this pregnancy thing, a claim that provoked an onslaught of pertinent questions: a game of darts for a man in a tight spot, and getting tighter as he mentioned some iffy notions that anyway reassured the dark-haired wench. In this sense it’s worth emphasizing the vague indifference of he who stared resolutely out the bus window (what might the scatterings in the fields evoke), then turned, like a ghoulish cat, to look at the belly of the pregnant woman … And after that—alas! where precisely should he turn: to the north, the east, the west, straight down the middle, or where … The border, the state of Tamaulipas—yes? If Demetrio could find a job there … No, but the trick would be to get her a passport (first hers), perhaps a residency permit, something of the sort, then go to the agronomist’s mother, to that place near Laredo, Texas. He must already have a passport, and he should show it to her … Which obliged him to lie, right there, on the fly, saying that this and other personal papers were stashed in the suitcase with the money and, needless to say, it would be pretty daft to open it then and there, and what, anyway, was the rush. Next scene: the tender attack, whether or not he was happy about the baby … Yes, yes, of course. A bitter and oblique response. And obliquely, in the heat of the moment, he formulated two questions: Why didn’t you tell me you were going to get pregnant?, and then: How much longer before our child is born? He hoped Mireya’s answers would be quick and succinct, which they were, as follows: I wasn’t careful. My