Otro más.
Ándale pues, the boy said. I cant help you now.
He entered the Moderno and took off his hat and hung it among the hats and instruments along the long wallrack by the door and he took a table next to the one reserved for the maestro. The barman nodded to him across the room and raised one hand. Buenas tardes, he called.
Buenas tardes, said John Grady. He folded his hands before him on the tabletop. Two of the ancient musicians in their dull black stage suits were sitting at a table in the corner and they nodded to him politely who was a friend to the maestro and he nodded back and the waiter came across the concrete floor in his white apron and greeted him. He ordered a tequila and the waiter bowed. As if the decision were a grave one well taken. From outside in the street came the cries of children, the calls of vendors. A square shaft of light fell slant from the barred streetwindow above him and terminated out on the floor in a pale trapezoid. In the center of it like a thing displayed in a bent and veering cage sat a large lemoncolored housecat washing itself. It shook its head and yawned. It turned and looked at him. The waiter brought the tequila.
He wet the top of his fist with his tongue and poured on salt from a tableshaker and he sipped the tequila and took a wedge of sliced lemon from the dish and crushed it between his teeth and laid it back in the dish and licked the salt from his fist. Then he took another sip of the tequila. The musicians watched him, sitting quietly.
He drank the tequila and ordered another. The cat was gone. The cage of light moved across the floor. After a while it started up the wall. The waiter had turned on the lights in the other room and a third musician had come in and joined the first two. Then the maestro entered with his daughter.
The waiter came over and helped him with his coat and held the chair. They spoke briefly and the waiter nodded and smiled at the girl and carried away the maestro’s coat and hung it up. The girl turned slightly in her chair and looked at John Grady.
Cómo estás? she said.
Bien. Y tú?
Bien, gracias.
The blind man had tilted archly in his chair listening. Good evening, he said. Will you join us please?
Thank you. Yes. I would like to.
Then you must.
He pushed back his chair and rose. The maestro smiled at his approach and held out his hand into the darkness.
How are you?
Fine, thank you.
The blind man spoke to the girl in spanish. He shook his head. María is shy, he said. Por qué no hablas inglés con nuestro amigo? You see. She will not. It is of no use. Where is the waiter? What will you have please?
The waiter brought the drinks and the maestro ordered for his guest. He put his hand on the girl’s arm for her to wait till all were served. When the waiter had gone he turned. Now, he said. What has happened?
I asked her to marry me.
She has refused? Tell me.
No. She accepted.
But so solemn. You gave us a scare.
The girl rolled up her eyes and looked away. John Grady had no idea what it meant.
I came to ask you a favor.
Of course, said the maestro. By all means.
She has no family. No sponsor. I would like for you to be her padrino.
Ah, said the maestro. He put his folded hands to his chin and then placed them on the table again. They waited.
I am honored of course. But this is a serious matter. You understand.
Yes. I understand.
You will be living in America.
Yes.
America, the maestro said. Yes.
They sat. The blind man in his silence was twice silent. Even the three musicians in the corner were watching him. They could not hear what he was saying but they seemed to be waiting also for him to continue.
The office of the padrino is not a mere ceremony, he said. It is not some gesture of kinship or some way to bind friends.
Yes. I understand.
It is a serious matter and it is no insult that a man should refuse to accept it if his reasons are honorable.
Yessir.
One needs to be logical in these matters.
The maestro raised one hand before him and spread his fingers and he held it there. Like an evocation perhaps, or a gesture of fending away. Had he not been blind he would simply have been studying his nails. My health is poor, he said. But even were that not so this girl will be making a new life and she should have counsel in her new country. Dont you think this would be best?
I dont know. I feel like she needs all the help she can get.
Yes. Of course.
Is it because of your sight?
The blind man lowered his hand. No, he said. It is not a matter of sight.
He waited for the blind man to continue but he did not.
Is there something you cant say in front of the girl?
The girl? said the maestro. He smiled his blind smile, he shook his head. Oh my, he said. No no. We have no secrets. An old blind father with secrets? No, that would never do.