“Wonderful. We’re getting a real platform. How do we stand on leprosy?”
“Por una lepra más grande para Cuba,” said the candidate.
“Por el cáncer cubano,” Thomas Hudson said.
“Por una tuberculosis ampliada, adecuada, y permanente para Cuba y los cubanos,” said the candidate. “That’s a little bit long but it will sound good on the radio. Where do we stand on syphilis, my coreligionists?”
“Por una sífilis criolla cien por cien.”
“Good,” said the candidate. “Down with Penicilina and other tricks of Yanqui Imperialism.”
“Down,” said Thomas Hudson.
“It seems to me as though we ought to drink something,” Honest Lil said. “How does it seem to you, correligionarios?”
“A magnificent idea,” said the candidate. “Who but you could have had an idea like that?”
“You,” Honest Lil said.
“Attack my credit,” the candidate said. “Let’s see how my credit stands up under really heavy fire. Bar-chap, bar-fellow, boy: the same all around. And for this political associate of mine: without sugar.”
“That’s an idea for a slogan,” Honest Lil said. “Cuba’s Sugar for Cubans.”
“Down with the Colossus of the North,” Thomas Hudson said.
“Down,” repeated the others.
“We need more domestic slogans, more municipal slogans. We shouldn’t get too much into the international field while we are fighting a war and are still allies.”
“Still I think we ought to Down the Colossus of the North,” Thomas Hudson said. “It’s really an ideal time while the Colossus is fighting a global war. I think we ought to down him.”
“We’ll down him after I’m elected.”
“To Un Alcalde Peor,” Thomas Hudson said.
“To All of Us. To the party,” the Alcalde Peor said. He raised his glass.
“We must remember the circumstances of the founding of the party and write out the manifesto. What’s the date anyway?”
“The twentieth. More or less.”
“The twentieth of what?”
“The twentieth more or less of February. El grito de La Floridita.”
“It’s a solemn moment,” Thomas Hudson said. “Can you write, Honest Lil? Can you perpetuate all this?”
“I can write. But I can’t write right now.”
“There are a few more problems we have to take a stand on,” the Alcalde Peor said. “Listen, Colossus of the North, why don’t you buy this round? You’ve seen how valiant my credit is and how he stands up to the attack. But there’s no need to kill the poor bird when we know he’s losing. Come on, Colossus.”
“Don’t call me Colossus. We’re against the damn Colossus.”
“All right, governor. What do you do, anyway?”
“I’m a scientist.”
“Sobre todo en la cama,” Honest Lil said. “He made extensive studies in China.”
“Well, whatever you are, buy this one,” the Alcalde Peor said. “And let’s get on with the platform.”
“What about the Home?”
“A sacred subject. The Home enjoys equal dignity with religion. We must be careful and subtle. What about this: Abajo los padres de familias?”
“It has dignity. But why not just: Down with the Home?”
“Abajo el Home. It’s a beautiful sentiment but many might confuse it with béisbol.”
“What about Little Children?”
“Suffer them to come unto me once they are of electoral age,” said the Alcalde Peor.
“What about divorce?” Thomas Hudson asked.
“Another touchy problem,” the Alcalde Peor said. “Bastante espinoso. How do you feel about divorce?”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t take up divorce. It conflicts with our campaign in favor of the Home.”
“All right, let’s drop it. Now let me see—”
“You can’t,” Honest Lil said. “You’re cockeyed.”
“Don’t criticize me, woman,” the Alcalde Peor told her. “One thing we must do.”
“What?”
“Orinar.”
“I agree,” Thomas Hudson heard himself saying. “It is basic.”
“As basic as the lack of the aqueduct. It is founded on water.”
“It’s founded on alcohol.”
“Only a small percentage in comparison with the water. Water is the basic thing. You are a scientist. What percentage of water are we composed of?”
“Eighty-seven and three-tenths,” said Thomas Hudson, taking a chance and knowing he was wrong.
“Exactly,” said the Alcalde Peor, “Should we go while we can still move?”
In the men’s room a calm and noble Negro was reading a Rosicrucian pamphlet. He was working on the weekly lesson of the course he was taking. Thomas Hudson greeted him with dignity and his greeting was returned in kind.
“Quite a chilly day, sir,” the attendant with the religious literature observed.
“It is indeed chilly,” Thomas Hudson said. “How are your studies progressing?”
“Very well, sir. As well as can be expected.”
“I’m delighted,” Thomas Hudson said. Then to the Alcalde Peor, who was having certain difficulties, “I belonged to a club in London once where half the members were trying to urinate and the other half were trying to stop.”
“Very good,” said the Alcalde Peor, completing his chore, “What did they call it, El Club Mundial?”
“No. As a matter of fact, I’ve forgotten the name of it.”
“You’ve forgotten the name of your club?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“I think we better go get another one. How much does this urination cost?”
“Whatever you wish, sir.”
“Let me get them,” Thomas Hudson said. “I love to buy them. It’s like flowers.”
“Could it have been the Royal Automobile Club?” the Negro asked, standing proffering a towel.
“It could not have been.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the student of Rusicrucian said. “I know that’s one of the biggest clubs in London.”
“That’s right,” Thomas Hudson said. “One of the biggest. Now buy yourself something very handsome with this.” He gave him a dollar.
“Why did you give him a peso?” the Alcalde Peor asked him as they were outside the door and back to the noise of the bar, the restaurant, and the traffic on the street outside.
“I have no real use for it.”
“Hombre,” the Alcalde Peor said. “Are you feeling all right? Do you feel OK?”
“Quite,” said Thomas Hudson. “I’m quite OK, thank you very much.”
“How was the trip?” Honest Lil asked from her stool at the bar. Thomas Hudson looked at her and saw her again for the first time. She looked considerably darker and much wider.
“It was a nice trip,” he said. “You always meet interesting people when you travel.”
Honest Lil put her hand on his thigh and squeezed it and he was looking down the bar, away from Honest Lil, past the Panama hats, the Cuban faces, and the moving dice cups of the drinkers and out the open door into the bright light of the square, when he saw the car pull up and the doorman opened the rear door, his cap in his hand, and she got out.
It was her. No one else got out of a car that way, practically and easily and beautifully and at the same time as though she were doing the street a great favor when she stepped on it: Everyone had tried to look like her for many years and some came quite close. But when you saw her, all the people that looked like her were only imitations. She was in uniform now and she smiled at the doorman and asked him a question and he answered happily and nodded his head and she started across the sidewalk and into the bar. There was another woman in uniform behind her.