Hey Billy.
How you doin?
I’m doin all right. Where’d you all go?
We went to a dance at Mesilla.
Who all went?
Everbody but you.
He sat in the doorway and jacked one boot against the jamb and took off his hat and put it on his knee and leaned his head back. John Grady watched him.
Did you dance?
Danced my ass off.
I didnt know you were a big dancer.
I aint.
I guess you give it your best.
It’s a thing that’s got to be seen. Oren tells me that squirrelheaded horse you think so much of is eatin out of your hand.
That might be a bit of an exaggeration.
What do you tell em?
Who?
Horses.
I dont know. The truth.
I guess it’s a trade secret.
No.
How can you lie to a horse?
He turned and looked at John Grady. I dont know, the boy said. Do you mean how do you go about it or how can you bring yourself to do it?
Go about it.
I dont know. I think it’s just what’s in your heart.
You think a horse knows what’s in your heart?
Yeah. Dont you?
Billy didnt answer. After a while he said: Yeah. I do.
I aint a very good liar.
You just aint had enough practice at it.
Down the barn bay in the stalls they could hear the wheeze and stir of the animals.
Have you got a girl you’re seein?
John Grady crossed his boots one over the other. Yeah, he said. Tryin to.
JC said you did.
How did JC know?
He just said you manifested all the symptoms.
Manifested?
Yeah.
What are they?
He didnt say. You intend to bring her around some time where we can get a look at her?
Yeah. I’ll bring her around.
Well.
He took his hat from his knee and put it on his head and rose.
Billy?
Yeah.
I’ll tell you about it. It’s kind of a mess. Right now I’m just a bit wore out.
I dont doubt it for a minute, cowboy. I’ll see you in the mornin.
HE WENT the following week with no more money in his pocket than would buy a drink at the bar. He watched her in the mirror. She sat upright alone on the dark velvet couch with her hands composed in her lap like a debutante. He drank the whiskey slowly. When he looked in the mirror again he thought she had been watching him. He finished the whiskey and paid for it and turned to go. He had not meant to look directly at her but he did. He could not even imagine her life.
He got his hat and gave the woman the last of his change and she smiled and thanked him and he put his hat on and turned. He had his hand on the ornate onyx handle of the door when one of the waiters stepped in front of him.
Un momento, he said.
He stopped. He looked at the hatcheck girl and he looked at the waiter.
The waiter stood between him and the door. The girl, he said. She say you no forget her.
He looked toward the salon but he could not see her from the door.
Dígame? he said.
She say you no …
En español, por favor. Dígame en español lo que dice ella.
The man would not. He repeated the words again in english and then he turned and was gone.
He sat the next night in the Moderno and waited for the maestro and his daughter. He waited for a long time and he thought perhaps they had already been or perhaps they were not coming. When the little girl pushed open the door she saw him and looked up at her father but she said nothing. They took a table near the door and the waiter came and poured a glass of wine.
He rose and crossed the room and stood at their table. Maestro, he said.
The blind man turned his face up and smiled at the space alongside John Grady. As if some unseen double stood there.
Buenas noches, he said.
Cómo está?
Ah, said the blind man. My young friend.
Yes.
Please. You must join us. Sit down.
Thank you.
He sat. He looked at the girl. The blind man hissed at the waiter and the waiter came over.
Qué toma? said the maestro.
Nothing. Thank you.
Please. I insist.
I cant stay.
Traiga un vino para mi amigo.
The waiter nodded and moved away. John Grady thumbed back his hat and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. What is this place? he said.
The Moderno? It is a place where the musicians come. It is a very old place. It has always been here. You must come on Saturday. Many old people come. You will see them. They come to dance. Very old people dancing. Here. In this place. The Moderno.
Are they going to play again?
Yes, yes. Of course. It is early. They are my friends.
Do they play every night?
Yes. Every night. They will play soon now. You will see.
Good as the maestro’s word the violinists began to tune their instruments in the inner room. The cellist leaned listening with his head inclined and drew his bow across the strings. A couple who had been sitting at a table against the far wall rose and stood in the archway holding hands and then sallied forth onto the concrete floor as the musicians struck up an antique waltz. The maestro leaned forward to hear. Are they dancing? he said. Are any dancing now?