Part 45 (1/2)
Up again and some of the finest pa.s.ses I have witnessed since the time of El Gallo!”
The woman in the velvet dress turned. ”Ole,” she said, softly.
”So, well, you can see, all of you, why I did not _hesitate_ to put him on the same bill with Perez and Lombardini.” The large man snorted. ”And if you two charlots are not careful, the little boy will steal all the glory, too!”
Juanito's body tingled. Even to be in the same room with these men to whom he had seen before only as G.o.ds in gold thread, that was enough; but to hear these words.
”Great caution, Galvez,” said Garcia, wagging his finger, ”or the ears I cut will be yours.”
Everyone laughed. Then the Impresario released his grip. ”I tell you what,” he said. ”You and Andree get acquainted. Enjoy yourselves.”
”Yes, Senor.”
”Good.” Camara slapped Juanito's arm, hard, and wandered back to the crowd of people.
Surprisingly, Enrique was drinking. In long swallows. Drinking, then filling up, and drinking more.
”What shall I call you?” asked the woman whose name was Andree.
”Whatever you like.”
”Juanito?”
”If you wish.”
A fast tune began to play on the phonograph; couples began to dance.
”Don Alfredo tells me you have style.”
”I try. You--follow the bulls?”
”Oh yes,” she said. ”It's a pa.s.sion.”
They looked at one another, silently, for a moment; then Juanito said, ”Excuse me, please,” andwalked to the other side of the room.
”Enrique, let's go home,” he said.
”What? Why?”
”I'm tired.”
Enrique shook his head. ”It would be an insult to Don Alfredo,” he said. ”Do you want to offend the man who's giving you your big break?”
”No, of course not. But--”
”Then, relax. It's early: only nine. Drink a little, talk to the woman.”
”You said women were bad for me.”
”Only the bunis. This one is all right. She's got cla.s.s. Don't you like her?”
Juanito knew that she was staring at him. ”Yes,” he said. ”She is very beautiful.”
”Then what?”
”I don't know.”
”Aah! Take your sad face away from here, then, so I can enjoy myself!”
Juanito stepped back. So long he had known this man, so well; but never had he seen this mood upon Enrique. Perhaps, he thought, it is his way of being excited. Certainly; yes!
”Care to dance?”
The woman, Andree, was moving slightly in time to the music. Young, Juanito decided. Not so young as his own nineteen years, maybe. But not much over. The flesh was firm everywhere, and everywhere smooth: incredibly smooth!
”If you don't,” she said. ”I'll tell Don Alfredo and he'll be angry. Now, take my arms.”
”I'm sorry, but I--”
”No, no! You're doing fine. Just twirl me a little, this way; now back, so. Wonderful!”
The music grew louder and faster and soon Juanito was remembering the steps that wh.o.r.e from Tijuana had taught him. He was beginning to like the nearness of the woman, though it still frightened him, and he particularly liked it when she clapped her hands and threw her head back and then touched her hips to his.
”Well done!” cried a voice, Don Alfredo's.
”Yes!” said Andree. ”He is light on my feet!”
Juanito got the joke and laughed. From the corner of his eye, he watched the other men, the great Matadors, and saw that they were dancing, also, with their women.
I am one of them, he thought, remembering the endless dream.
They accept me, I am one of them!
Andree was perspiring now. Her rich black hair, like tiny slender strips of dark metal, hung about her face; her eyes were ponds in which the lights were swimming; and her lips, to Juanito, were the softest and fullest in all the world, half-open always, revealing the whitest and straightest of teeth, the most quickly darting tongue that ever hid in the warm night of a girl's mouth . . .
”More tequila, _torero?_”
He started to say no, no more, but in a flash the woman was gone, and in a flash, back again.
”To us,” she said.
Juanito drank. Then, as his limbs were losing all their weight, the music slowed, and the woman pressed her body close to his and put her face next to his.
”Andree,” he said.
She made a catlike sound in her throat.
”Andree, who are you with?”
She pulled her head back lazily. ”With you,” she murmured.