Like A Hole In The Head

ladder she joined me.

     We walked together into the kitchen.

     'The trouble with him is he's simple minded,' I said as I took two cans of beer from the refrigerator.

     'How did he shoot?'

     I waved to the two targets on the table, then zipped open one of the cans of beer. I took a long pull from the can as she studied the targets.

     'This is good, isn't it?'

     'Well, it's a start.'

     She looked quickly at me.

     'Thank you for being kind to him, Jay. He needs kindness.'

     She went out carrying a can of beer. I hesitated, then shrugged. I was sweating. When I had finished the beer, I went into the bedroom, stripped off and took a shower. I didn't hurry. Thirty minutes later, I came out on to the verandah.

     Lucy was finishing off the gutter. Timoteo wasn't around. 'Where is he?'

     Lucy looked down from the top of the ladder.

     'He's gone hack to the gallery.'

     'He has? What's this . . . sudden enthusiasm?'

I heard the crack of the rifle.

'I asked him to go back.'

'Thanks, Lucy. I'll get over there.'

     'No, don't. Leave him alone. Let him shoot on his own. We have a bet on.'

     I looked up at her. I could see she was anxious and bothered. 'You betted him he could do better?'

     'Yes.' She slapped on more paint. 'He needs that sort of encouragement.'

     I began to get it.

     'You mean he's fallen for you. Is that it?'

     'I guess so. You don't mind, do you, Jay?'

     I grinned a little uneasily.

     'So long as you haven't fallen for him.'

     She flushed and looked away.

     'Of course not !'

     All the time we were talking the rifle was firing . . . slow : five or six shots every three minutes. I could imagine him shooting as if his life depended on it. Then I saw Raimundo coming across the sand. He was carrying a long cardboard box in his hand, swinging it and slapping his thigh with it as he walked.

     I waited, aware that Lucy, high up on the ladder, had also stopped painting.

     He came up, taking his time, his eyes first going to Lucy, then shifting to me.

     'So you've got him shooting.' he said.

     'What do you want?'

     'Something from Mr. Savanto . . . special delivery. Goon has to shoot with it . . . orders.' He offered me the box.

     'What is it?'

     'Take a look, soldier. You've got eyes.' He stared up at Lucy, then he gave me his jeering smile, turned around and walked off with that insolent lounging movement that made me long to kick him.

     As I began to open the box, Lucy scrambled down the ladder and joined me.

     'What is it, Jay?'

     I squatted on the sand as I took off the lid. There was a slip of paper on top of some foam packing. The note was typewritten:

     Timoteo will shoot with these two attachments. See to it, please. A.S.

     'What is it?' Lucy repeated, peering over my shoulder.

     'A telescopic sight. This is a silencer. They are both highly sophisticated . . . both cost the earth.'

     'But why?'

     'The telescopic sight will make it much easier for him to hit a bull. When Savanto first talked to me I wondered about a telescopic sight, but I didn't imagine it would come within the rules of his bet.' I turned the sight over in my hands. 'He can't fail to shoot well with this.'

'But why a silencer?'

I shrugged. I was asking myself the same question.

     'I don't know.' I stood up. 'The silencer will make it a little more tricky for him. I'll get these two attachments fitted to the rifle right away before he gets used to the rifle as it is.'

     'All this worries me, Jay.'