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The marimba player responded. He was even able to help fold up his marimba. The sleeping guitarist took longer. John selected what he hoped was the proper fee, divided it in thirds, and gave it to them. The small group walked out to the station wagon, Harvey carrying the marimba.

“No need of any of the rest of you coming,” John said. “This one here says it’s all right to let them off in front of the palace. And that’s right on the
zócalo
.”

“I’ll come along for company,” Barbara said.

“Good. Thanks, Harvey. And Monica.”

“The clean-up boys,” Harvey said. “The old reliables, hey, John? Monica and me, we’ll get some of the crud out of the way. Some party, hey?”

“We can say it was long,” John said.

He drove the musicians into town. They mumbled their thanks and trudged sleepily away. The
zócalo
was empty. The city slept.

“This may sound insane, John, but I’d like to walk around a little.”

“I’d like that too.” He parked the car. They walked around the three contiguous public squares and sat on an iron bench under the tree shadows in the
zócalo
nearest the post office. A taxi deposited somebody at the Marik and drove away.

“How good a time did you have?” he asked her.

“I had … an interesting time, John. I guess I’m a people-watcher. Adore airports and railroad stations. I’ve never been a participant in group stuff. When I was young I was horribly shy. I have a lot more confidence in myself now, but I guess
I’m the introvert type. So I watch. And I wonder why people do what they do, and what makes them act the way they do. So I guess I had a good time. But—and I guess this sounds odd—I wouldn’t have had a good time if you weren’t there.”

“It’s nice to hear, but I didn’t contribute any sparkling observations.”

“Did I? I can’t remember any. No, I had a feeling of stability with you there. I knew that if anybody got drunk enough to be difficult, Klauss or Gam or anybody, you wouldn’t let it get messy. So it was like having a … ledge to watch from.”

“Makes me sound stodgy and reliable. And I guess I am.”

“Not stodgy. A woman alone has special problems when a party goes that far off the rails. I’ve no objection to drinking. But I don’t like to see people … wallowing around.”

“I’ve wallowed a time or two.”

“So did Rob. The poor darling always wanted to sing. And he had no more voice than … one of those horns on boats. He sure was loud. That’s odd!”

“What?”

“I’ve tried to learn to be so terribly casual about bringing up his name. But it has been imitation casual. Like sticking a knife in my heart, and sometimes bringing up his name so I could feel the hurt. But that time … it really was casual. That isn’t the right word. Casual sounds like indifferent.”

“Natural.”

“Yes, that’s much better! To be able to do that makes me feel … sad and faithless and disloyal. But it also makes me feel fatuous about myself. Proud that now I can begin to believe I’ve got the emotional guts to get over it. Not ever completely over it, John. But enough so it won’t count in this … business of living.”

“Obligation to live.”

“Yes. To myself first.”

“And Rob secondly.”

“That’s what my father tried to tell me. I couldn’t believe it. It seemed horrible. But I’m beginning to understand what he meant. He was more of a person than I am. Maybe this affair of … mourning my life away is something he wouldn’t want. But I’ve felt that any other choice is a … violation of privacies. I have a kind of fastidious dread of … dirtying up sacred memories with substitutions. That horrible little Klauss person caught me off guard and somehow hypnotized me into
kissing him. Into responding for a moment. It was vulgar and exceedingly nasty. I wept with shame. And I scrubbed my mouth with a brush until my lips were sore.”

“I can understand that.”

“Rob was very smart about people. He would have seen through that Klauss person in a minute. I was always the gullible one. So I’ve always been a little uncertain of my own judgment about people. That’s why it took me so long to be able to relax with you, John. You know, you are quite a different sort of human being than Rob was. But in so many ways you are alike. Mostly, I guess, it’s that flavor of strength. When Rob felt that he had used his own best judgment to reach a decision, he did not give one damn what anybody in the world might think of him or his decision. I think you’re like that too.”

“A flattering description of a stubborn man. Yes.”

“I’ve always been too impressed with what other people might think of me. Too concerned. Sometimes it would irritate Rob. You know, you two would have liked each other.”

“I hope so, Barbara.”

“Lately you’ve let me go on and on about myself. I guess you’ve got the complete personal history of one Barbara Kilmer, bit by bit. But aside from your work, you haven’t said much about yourself. I’m not really quite sure why you’re here, John. It seems strange that you could just take off, when your firm is doing so well.”

“It messed up quite a few contracts. There’s a good reason, Barbara. I’d like you to know about it. I’ve wanted to tell you. And I want your advice. I think that women have a sounder approach to this sort of … fiasco.”

He started way back. He told her of the young marriage and why it didn’t work and why it couldn’t have been made to work. And then he covered the years that followed, the good exciting years of struggle and growth. He told her about Kurt and Mary, the kind of people they were. Their goodness. And Mary’s determined attempt at matchmaking. And how it ended for the three of them. How she had not been able to hide her love, and how the interwoven relationships between the three of them had been hopelessly destroyed. He told her of the decision he had to make, to buy Kurt out or be bought out by him. He explained to her what it would mean in terms of effort were he to buy Kurt out.

“How perfectly terrible for all three of you, John! And especially for Mary. She must be a fine person. You can’t just turn love off and on like a switch.”

“So there it is. Any ideas?”

“I really don’t know. Could you sell it to outside people and just … split what you get?”

“It would mean a big loss. The relationship with clients is personal. Our contacts and our personal professional reputations are solid assets of the firm. If neither of us is left, there isn’t a hell of a lot left to sell. If he buys, he has to locate a good design man and bring him in. I would have to locate somebody as good as Kurt is on structure. We’ve got fine kids working for us, but nobody who can be boosted that fast in either department.”

“I can tell you what you should do and why, John.”

“So positively?”

“Don’t make fun. You are whole. It’s hurt you, but not the way they’ve been hurt. Kurt is a fractured man. I imagine it’s a very drab thing for him now. Where is his motivation? I guess that running any business is creative in a way. And particularly with that sort of business. And he’s right there where everything will keep reminding him of … how his world blew up all of a sudden. You say he is very good on the real technical side. I suppose that is stresses and all that sort of thing.”

“Yes.”

“And he could get a job at any time, couldn’t he?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then you owe it to him to take over, John. Maybe it seems a little tasteless to you now, but nowhere near as tasteless as it must be to him. You are a whole man and you can make it run, and you can take pride and pleasure in it. If you sell out to him, I don’t think it will last very long. I just don’t think an … unmotivated man can run anything very well. A heart-broken man.”

He thought it over for long minutes. “You are completely right, Barbara. Absolutely right. I was too damn close to it. Just a few careless decisions on big jobs and he would be done.”

“You’d save him from drowning, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course. That’s an odd thing to say.”

“Is it? John, I think I’m going to make you very angry at me. But I don’t care. I suppose it was really quite flattering to the male ego to have such a woman fall in love with you.
Dramatic pathos. And you thought how terribly difficult it was for you. So you’ve been down here, sucking your pipe, considering yourself sad and mysterious or something, while that poor partner of yours is up there trying to keep the store when he has no special reason to give a damn about it. If anybody should have gone away, he should have. So I guess it’s time you stopped being a romantic figure and went back where you belong.”

“Good Lord!” he said softly.

“Do you think that at this point he can get very concerned about protecting his own interests, much less yours?”

“All right, all right.”

“You could have …”

“Barbara, will you please give me a little time to get adjusted to this unfortunately accurate picture of myself as a pretentious ass? Just a few minutes, that’s all.”

He got up and walked slowly back and forth, his heels tocking in the silence. He stopped in front of her and smiled down at her. “Mary was utterly honest. So was Kurt. So I had to play a part written for Charles Boyer. I have done them a disservice.”

“You’re not angry?”

“At you? No. A little bit at myself for being dense.” He sat beside her again. “In all conscience, damn it, the only thing I can do is go back right away. But I don’t want to leave you.”

“I … I don’t know what the response to that should be.”

“I wanted all the time I could have with you. And more, when this part of it is over. Not pushing you, Barbara. Not rushing you. Just watching you come alive, a little at a time.”

“You sound like …”

“Let me finish. You are it. What I want. For keeps. And you’re not emotionally ready to listen to that kind of a pitch yet. So don’t try to make any answers or objections or anything else. I love you.”

“You love me, and you will go back there right away because you can see, from what I’ve said, that it’s the right thing to do?”

“Yes.”

“I keep wondering what I would feel like right now, what I’d feel toward you if you’d said you couldn’t go back now because you love me. I have the strangest feeling about that, John. I don’t love you.”

“I know.”

“But … because you’re doing it this way, I think I can love you someday. I don’t know when. Some day.”

“It’s more than I thought you could say.”

“More than I thought I’d ever say. Would you kiss me, please?”

He turned toward her and put his arm around her, tilted her chin up and pressed his mouth against those level lips, felt there the tender stirring of her life, felt her finger tips so light against his cheek. She pulled away slightly and he looked down into eyes that seemed enormous, that reflected in their dampness the highlights from the distant street light.

“I can’t afford to be hurt,” she whispered, her breath warm on his mouth. “I have no reserve against hurt. None.”

“You won’t be,” he said. He kissed her again, and it was a little longer, a little more meaningful.

“That was a goodbye,” she said.

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

“We can write?”

“Of course.”

“Will you stay here?”

“Maybe not until the end. For a little while, I think. It was a present, you know. It was supposed to do me good.”

“And it has.”

“Yes, it has. Oh, yes, it has, John.”

“If Mary Jane will lend Park’s wagon, could you find your way back alone from Mexico City if you ride with me to the airport? I ought to be able to get a flight out tomorrow.”

“I can manage that.”

“And drive carefully. That’s an order.”

They walked back to the car and drove back to the hotel. There was a false dawn in the east, and nearby roosters crowed. She tilted her mouth for a good-night kiss, and smiled, and closed the door without another word. He went to his room, filled with great joy that threatened to burst his heart.

Monica Killdeering and Harvey Ardos did not sleep that night. They had talked before, but never in this way. After her shy but unmistakable kiss, he had read all of the bright miracle in her eyes. There was no need for another drink, no desire for more dancing. They had gone out into the night. No structure
on earth was huge enough to contain this miracle. And even the sky seemed low. They had kissed as soon as they reached the first patch of shadow, kissed with all the damp-eyed hunger and intensity of all the lonely people of the world. They kissed and used the first broken words that tried to tell of this miracle. And the words became more assured with each retelling. They talked and walked and stopped to kiss until they’d bruised their mouths and dizzied themselves, until they staggered in close embrace and caught their balance and laughed with each other and walked on, finding new ways to say it, finding better ways to explain it all to each other. They stopped to look at each other searchingly in the starlight. She was breath-takingly beautiful and he was handsome.

His, he knew, was the greater miracle. He was the humble soldier who had gone to do homage to his queen, only to have her take his hand and bid him rise, and take him in her arms. The implausibly remote had, in a wondrous moment, come within his reach. And, as a bonus to miracle, there was her response. This was no austere queen, with prim and chilly lips, shrinking from boldness, drawing back in sterile alarm. This was woman, round and firm, meeting him foursquare, matching the gallop of his heart, duplicating the husky race of breath, hungry of mouth, creaking his ribs in her strength and need, turning her hip against him, crushing her breasts against his thumping chest. He walked forty feet tall, and could have howled until the stars heard him, and thumped fists against his chest until great stones tumbled down the flanks of distant mountains.

They talked dreams and nonsense, sobrieties and purposes, and were little aware of where they wandered. They were both aware of their yearning for complete possession. But they were equally aware of its inevitability. There were a thousand smaller things to be savored first on this magical memorable night and during the days and nights to follow. They had that curious patience which can only come from instinctive and utter trust. The greater need was merely to be together. They had spent their lives with the dreary awareness that nobody in all the world really deeply cared whether they lived or died. Nobody really on their side. And suddenly, for each of them, here was another individual who clearly and unmistakably cared for you more than you cared for yourself, who would gladly and willingly die for you, and think of it as a small favor.