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Show I told him I was twenty-nine. Listen, he said, filling our glasses and leaning over the table with his words. To discover you are no longer young, and have nothing, is no good. We drank until the bar closed, then he gave me a ride to the pension where I was staying. He told me he was driving to Malaga in a few days and would I like to come. I said I would. It was a magnificent city, he told me. Perhaps I would decide to settle there. He arranged for me to stay in a hotel run by a friend of his. Like this ship, it was pleasant. And he was right about Malaga. Beautiful beaches and beautiful women and more than enough tourists with full pockets to keep me busy. I never saw Paco during the day. Like me, he mentioned business but never suggested what it might be. Sometimes he would stop by in the evening and we would go out for a drink. After a month, I told him I was thinking of leaving. But you have everything here, he said, so many possibilities. Where could you possibly be happier? I told him I had made up my mind. A look entered his face as though it were the loss of someone dear we were talking about. And then he began telling me about the Aurelia. It was one of two freighters owned by a friend of his and had accommodations for thirty passengers. It would dock in Malaga in a week and he could arrange passage for me. The ship, he told me, had no regular |
