How is my aunt, Wordsworth?
She pretty O.K., he said, but there was a look of distress in his eyes and he added, She dance one hell too much. Ar tell her she no bebi gel no more. Ef she no go stop Man, she got me real worried.
Are you coming on the boat with me?
Ar sure am, Mr. Pullen. You lef every ting to old Wordsworth. Ar know the customs fellows in Asunción. Some good guys. Some bad like hell. You lef me talk. We don wan no humbug.
Im not smuggling anything, Wordsworth. The noise of the ships siren summoned us, wailing up from the river.
Man, you lef everyting to old Wordsworth. Ar jus gone tak a look at that boat and ar see a real bad guy there. We gotta be careful.
Careful of what, Wordsworth?
You in good hands, Mr. Pullen. You lef old Wordsworth be now.
He suddenly took my fingers and pressed them. You got that picture, Mr. Pullen?
You mean of Freetown harbour? Yes, Ive got that.
He gave a sigh of satisfaction. Ar lak you, Mr. Pullen. You allays straight with old Wordsworth. Now you go for boat. I was just leaving him when he added, You got CTC for Wordsworth? and I gave him what coins I had in my pocket. Whatever trouble he might have caused me in that dead old world of mine, I was overjoyed to see him now.
They were carrying the last cargo on to the ship through the black iron doors open in the side. I made my way through the steerage quarters, where women with Indian faces sat around suckling their children and climbed the rusting stairs to the first-class. I never noticed Wordsworth come on board, and at dinner he was nowhere to be seen. I supposed that he was travelling in the steerage and saving for other purposes the difference in the fare, for I was quite certain that my aunt would have given him a first-class ticket.
After dinner OToole suggested a drink in his cabin. Ive got some good bourbon, he said, and though I have never been a spirit-drinker, preferring a glass of sherry before a meal or a glass of port after it, I accepted his invitation gladly, for it was our last night together on board. Again the spirit of restlessness had taken over all the passengers in the ship, and they seemed touched with a kind of mania. In the saloon an amateur band had begun to play, and a sailor with hairy legs and arms, dressed inadequately as a woman, had whirled in a dance between the tables, demanding a partner. Now in the captains cabin, which was close to OTooles, someone was playing the guitar and a woman squealed. It wasnt what you expected to hear from a captains quarters.
No one will sleep tonight, OToole remarked, pouring out the bourbon.
If you dont mind, I said, a lot more soda.
Weve made it. I thought we were going to be stuck fast at Corrientes. The rain is damn late this year, and as though to soften his rebuke of the weather there came a long peal of thunder which almost drowned the music of the guitar.
What did you think of Formosa? OToole asked.
There wasnt much to see. Except the prison. A fine colonial building.
Not so good inside, OToole said. A splash of lightning was flung over the wall and made the cabin lights flicker. Met a friend, didnt you?
A friend?
I saw you talking to a coloured guy.
What was it that made me cautious, for I liked OToole? I said, Oh, he wanted money. I didnt see you on shore.
I was up on the bridge, OToole said, looking through the captains glasses. He changed course abruptly. I cant get over you knowing my daughter, Henry. You cant imagine how I miss that girl. You never told me how she looked.
She looked fine. Shes a very pretty girl.
Yeah, he said, so was her mother. If I ever married again Id marry a plain girl. He brooded a long time over the bourbon, and I looked around his cabin. He had made no attempt, as I had made the first day, to make it a temporary home. His suitcases lay on the floor filled with clothes; he had not bothered to hang them. A razor beside the wash-basin and a Bantam book beside his bed seemed to be the extent of his unpacking. Suddenly the rain hit the deck outside like a cloudburst.
I guess winters here all right, he said.
Winter in July.
Ive gotten used to it, he said. I havent seen the snow for six years.
Youve been out here for six years?
No, but I was in Thailand before this.
Doing research?
Yeah. Sort of If he was usually as tongue-tied as this it must have taken him a long time to unearth every fact he required.
How are the urine statistics?
More than four minutes thirty seconds today, he said. He added glumly, And I havent reached the end, lifting the bourbon. When the next peal of thunder had trembled out he went on, obviously straining after any subject to fill the pause, So you didnt like Formosa?
No. Of course it may be all right for fishing, I said.
Fishing! he exclaimed with scorn. Smuggling is what you mean.
I keep on hearing all the time about smuggling. Smuggling what?
Its the national industry of Paraguay, he said. It brings in nearly as much as the maté[253] and a lot more than hiding war criminals with Swiss bank accounts. And a darn sight more than my research.