Soon it would be time. El Jefe would arrive in the courtyard and give instructions for the next job. Luis watched the gauchos mill around trying to mask their trepidation, anxiety, uneasiness in ways that were so familiar to him that he could point at each and tell what they were thinking, feeling. He knew. After so many years out here he'd lost count, he most definitely had seen and felt it all.
Standing a couple of yards away from the arched doorway of the church, Jose and Tito laughed raucously as they traded stories about the last piece they'd gotten. "Una vez que le mostro quien era el jefe... sin problemas!"
Santiago cupped his hand and watched the match's flame as it lit the end of his cigarette. In the darkening twilight the flame flickering in the breeze threw misshapen shadows across his face. Taking a deep drag, he wondered what sort of orders they would get this time. Last time they were told to go into an armed encampment and acquire all the palominos. El Jefe said he had promised a certain number to be delivered to a landowner over in MexiCali. Santiago wondered what it would be like to abandon this life, buy a plot, and raise horses as an honest man. Reaping the bounty of the fruits of his labor. "Menos dinero" he thought. Besides was he really ready to settle down? And with who? Settling down meant a wife and a family. And he had neither and no prospects for either on the horizon.
"Cuando hace el jefe de venir?" asked Little Jesus as he chewed on his nails. Not much was left to chew but he couldn't help himself. He clasped his hands behind his back and shuffled his feet in the loose dirt. Hearing the sound of hoof beats he looked up, to see the answer to his question. El Jefe and his armed contingency were riding into the courtyard, calling everyone to gather round. Little Jesus began biting his nails again.
Standing a couple of yards away from the arched doorway of the church, Jose and Tito laughed raucously as they traded stories about the last piece they'd gotten. "Una vez que le mostro quien era el jefe... sin problemas!"
Santiago cupped his hand and watched the match's flame as it lit the end of his cigarette. In the darkening twilight the flame flickering in the breeze threw misshapen shadows across his face. Taking a deep drag, he wondered what sort of orders they would get this time. Last time they were told to go into an armed encampment and acquire all the palominos. El Jefe said he had promised a certain number to be delivered to a landowner over in MexiCali. Santiago wondered what it would be like to abandon this life, buy a plot, and raise horses as an honest man. Reaping the bounty of the fruits of his labor. "Menos dinero" he thought. Besides was he really ready to settle down? And with who? Settling down meant a wife and a family. And he had neither and no prospects for either on the horizon.
"Cuando hace el jefe de venir?" asked Little Jesus as he chewed on his nails. Not much was left to chew but he couldn't help himself. He clasped his hands behind his back and shuffled his feet in the loose dirt. Hearing the sound of hoof beats he looked up, to see the answer to his question. El Jefe and his armed contingency were riding into the courtyard, calling everyone to gather round. Little Jesus began biting his nails again.
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