Thursday, December 19, 2013
mysterious Spanish streets. It was only Nuevo Laredo but it looked like
Barcelona. “Man those guys are up all night” whispered Neal. We hurried
to get our papers straightened. We were warned not to drink tap water now
we were over the border. The Mexicans looked at our baggage in a
desultory way. They weren’t like officials at all. They were lazy and
tender. Neal couldn’t stop staring at them. “See how the cops are in
this country. I can’t believe it!” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m dreaming.”
Then it was time to change our money. We saw great stacks of pesos on a
table and learned that eight of them made an American buck, or
thereabouts. We changed most of our money and stuffed the big rolls in
our pockets with delight. Then we turned our faces to Mexico with
bashfulness and wonder as those dozens of Mexican cats watched us from
under their secret hat brims in the night. Beyond was music and all night
restaurants with smoke pouring out the door. “Whee” whispered Neal very
softly. “Thassall!” grinned a Mexican official. “You boys all set. Go
ahead. Welcome Mexico. Have good time. Watch you money. Watch you
driving. I say this to you personal, I’m Red, everybody call me Red. Ask
for Red. Eat good. Don’t worry. Everything fine.” “Yes-yes-yes!”
squealed Neal and off we went across the street into Mexico on soft
feet. We left the car parked and all three of us abreast went down the
Spanish street into the middle of the dull brown lights. Old men sat on
chairs in the night and looked like Oriental junkies and oracles. No one
was actually looking at us yet everybody was aware of everything we
did. We turned sharp left into the smoky lunchroom and went in to music
of campo guitars on an American Thirties jukebox. Shirt-sleeved Mexican
cabdrivers and straw-hatted Mexican hipsters sat at stools devouring
shapeless messes of tortillas, beans, tacos, whatnot. We bought three
bottles of cold beer---told at once “cerveza” was the name for
beer---for about thirty Mexican cents or ten American cents each. We bought packs of
Mexican cigarettes for six cents each. We gazed and gazed at our
wonderful Mexican money that went so far and played with it and looked
around and smiled at everyone. Behind us lay the whole continent of
America and everything Neal and I had previously known
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