Country of the Bad Wolfes

and moans low. They are next to a pig sty loud with snortings, and a row of little furious eyes peer between the slat rails. The twins look at each other—and then James Sebastian puts his boot against Alfredo’s shoulder and pushes him onto his back and shoots him through each elbow to render his arms useless and Alfredo finds his voice and screams. And then screams higher still as the twins pick him up by the wrists and ankles and sling him over the top rail of the pen. He smacks down into the muck—and then everyone hears the clamorous raven of the pigs. The excruciations of his final minutes.

They take the Dragoon from the top right drawer and then from the middle drawer take a handful of the photographs of their mother and two of their father and one of their parents together. They pick the lock of the lower left drawer and take the ledger and the document case and put the ledger into the case with its other contents. They ignore the other drawers. They have already been to see their father where he is laid out. In deference everyone else left the room. When it was just him and the two of them, they touched him for the first time in their lives. His hand, his hair. Touched his face.

As they head for the office door James Sebastian says, “Hold on” and goes over to the big map of Mexico on the wall. Blake Cortez comes up beside him.

“Where’ll it be?” James says. Veracruz was out of the question. It was the first place their seekers would look.

“I don’t care as long as it’s near the gulf. I’d rather not live anywhere other.”

“Me neither. North or south?”

“Nothing south but Indians who mostly can’t even speak Spanish.”

“Well then, that just about leaves only here,” James taps a fingertip on the map.

“Fine by me.”

They are midway down the stairs when John Samuel comes through the tall front doors and across the great room at a quick stride, heading for the staircase. As he nears the foot of it he looks up and sees them and stops short. The twins pause a few steps below the middle landing to regard him. They had not seen his face since the horse accident and see now what Bruno meant about his nose and that Josefina was not exaggerating the scar on his cheek. His eyes move from one of them to the other. Linger a moment on the gun each has tucked into the front of his pants. One of them puts a hand on his gun and says, “You aint got a rifle hid on you, do you?”

John Samuel reddens. The twin grins and takes his hand off the Colt.

“I want to talk to you,” John Samuel says. His voice has deepened, no doubt because of the nose.

“Make it quick,” says one.

“I mean in private, not out here in—”

“You have something to say, say it,” says the other.

He seems unsure how to proceed. Then gestures in the direction of the plaza and says, “What you did to that man was . . . was. . . .”

“Discourteous?” one offers. “Ill-mannered?”

“Good God! You two are just—”

“He murdered our father,” says the other. “Yours too, I guess.”

“Yes! Yes, he did! And he deserved to be punished for it. By the courts! Not the way you two—”

“We punished him no more than he deserved.”

“Punished, you say? Christ, you defiled him. What do you think Mauricio . . . do you fools not know who his brother is?”

“Ah, quit your mewling,” says one. “We know about his brother and we aint about to fight his army. We’re leaving. When he gets here you tell him we’re gone and you don’t know where.”

“He’ll know you’re at the cove. He’ll find out and he’ll go there. People talk, especially if they’re afraid. Somebody will tell him.”

“No doubt,” says one. “But don’t worry about us, big brother, we won’t be there for long.”

John Samuel’s surprise is more apparent than he knows. “Where are you going?”

“China. The moon. We aint decided.”

John Samuel glares. “Fine. That’s fine. I don’t care a damn. But don’t ever come back here. I mean it. This place is far more important than you two and I won’t put it at hazard just to protect you from—”

“Protect us?” one says. They laugh and start down the stairs and he steps aside to give them berth. As they pass, he notes the document case and says, “What do you have there? If that’s Father’s it stays here!”

They stop and turn and stare at him. Then grin at the look on his face. Then go off to the kitchen.

Josefina hugs them each in turn. Her withered face looks older than ever. Of course you must go, she says, of course, go quickly. She has never cried in front of them and will not do so now. But her red eyes tell them she has been weeping for their father. When she’d seen the pistols in their pants she’d said, “Ay, Dios.” Said it like a sigh. The Concha girl stands mute at the wash sink, her arms soapy, staring at the twins, at the set of their faces. So different from this morning.

Marina Colmillo had fled the room as soon as they said they were leaving. Both she and Josefina had known at once that they did not simply mean they were going back to the cove but were departing Buenaventura for somewhere else—and with small likelihood of coming back.

Now Marina returns, a little breathless, a sack of clothing in one hand and in the other a small straw case with a handle. Her worldly goods.

Where are you going? says Blake Cortez.

With you.

No you’re not.

Yes I am.

You can’t come, says James Sebastian.

Why not?

You just can’t.

I’ll follow you.

Don’t be foolish, James says. We’d leave you way behind quick. Lose you easy.

I’ll follow the trail.

We’re not going to stay at the cove, Blake says.

I know.

We’ll be gone before you get there.

Maybe.

You’ll just have to turn around and come all the way back.

I won’t.

Oh? What’ll you do?

Wait.

Wait? You mean there?

Yes.

For what?

For you to come back.

You don’t seem to understand, James says. We may never come back.

Then I will wait there until then.

Until when?

Until you never come back.

The twins stare at her. James turns to Josefina and says, Tell her she can’t come.

It is not for me to tell her, she says.

He blows out a long breath and cuts a look at Blake, who shrugs and says, “Hell man, I don’t know. Maybe.”

Josefina swats at Blake and says, No gringo talk!

James Sebastian points a finger at Marina. The minute you complain, the minute you cause any kind of trouble, we’ll put you on a train right back here. You understand?