The Day it Rained Forever by Ray Bradbury Page A

Without looking at it, he handed it to Martinez.
    â€˜Martinez, take this.’
    â€˜What is it?’
    Martinez looked at the piece of folded pink paper with print on it, with names and numbers. His eyes widened.
    â€˜A ticket on the bus to El Paso, three weeks from now!’
    Gomez nodded. He couldn’t look at Martinez. He stared out into the summer night.
    â€˜Turn it in. Get the money,’ he said. ‘Buy us a nice white panama hat and a pale blue tie to go with the white ice-cream suit, Martinez. Do that.’
    â€˜Gomez –’
    â€˜Shut up. Boy, is it hot in here! I need air.’
    â€˜Gomez. I am touched. Gomez –’
    But the door stood open. Gomez was gone.
    Mickey Murillo’s Red Rooster Café and Cocktail Lounge was squashed between two big brick buildings and, being narrow, had to be deep. Outside, serpents of red and sulphur-green neon fizzed and snapped. Inside, dim shapes loomed and swam away to lose themselves in a swarming night sea.
    Martinez, on tiptoe, peeked through a flaked place on the red-painted front window.
    He felt a presence on his left, heard breathing on his right. He glanced in both directions.
    â€˜Manulo! Villanazul!’
    â€˜I decided I wasn’t thirsty,’ said Manulo. ‘So I took a walk.’
    â€˜I was just on my way to the plaza,’ said Villanazul, ‘and decided to go the long way round.’
    As if by agreement the three men shut up now and turned together to peer on tiptoe through various flaked spots on the window.
    A moment later, all three felt a new very warm presence behind them and heard still faster breathing.
    â€˜Is our white suit in there?’ asked Gomez’s voice.
    â€˜Gomez!’ said everybody, surprised. ‘Hi!’
    â€˜Yes!’ cried Dominguez, having just arrived to find his own peephole. ‘There’s the suit! And, praise God, Vamenos is still in it!’
    â€˜I can’t see!’ Gomez squinted, shielding his eyes. ‘What’s he doing ?’
    Martinez peered. Yes! There, way back in the shadows, was a big chunk of snow, and the idiot smile of Vamenos winking above it, wreathed in smoke.
    â€˜He’s smoking!’ said Martinez.
    â€˜He’s drinking!’ said Dominguez.
    â€˜He’s eating a taco!’ reported Villanazul.
    â€˜A juicy taco,’ added Manulo.
    â€˜No,’ said Gomez. ‘No, no, no …’
    â€˜Ruby Escadrillo’s with him!’
    â€˜Let me see that!’ Gomez pushed Martinez aside.
    Yes, there was Ruby! Two hundred pounds of glittering sequins and tight black satin on the hoof, her scarlet fingernails clutching Vamenos’s shoulder. Her cow-like face, floured with powder, greasy with lipstick, hung over him!
    â€˜That hippo!’ said Dominguez. ‘She’s crushing the shoulder pads. Look, she’s going to sit on his lap!’
    â€˜No, no, not with all that powder and lipstick!’ said Gomez. ‘Manulo, inside! Grab that drink! Villanazul, the cigar, the taco! Dominguez, date Ruby Escadrillo, get her away. Ándale , men!’
    The three vanished, leaving Gomez and Martinez to stare, gasping, through the peephole.
    â€˜Manulo, he’s got the drink, he’s drinking it!’
    â€˜ Olé ! There’s Villanazul, he’s got the cigar, he’s eating the taco!’
    â€˜Hey, Dominguez, he’s got Ruby! What a brave one!’
    A shadow bulked through Murillo’s front door, travelling fast.
    â€˜Gomez!’ Martinez clutched Gomez’s arm. ‘That was Ruby Escadrillo’s boy friend, Bull La Jolla. If he finds her with Vamenos, the ice-cream suit will be covered with blood, covered with blood –’
    â€˜Don’t make me nervous,’ said Gomez. ‘Quickly!’
    Both ran. Inside, they reached Vamenos just as Bull La Jolla grabbed about two feet of the lapels of that wonderful ice-cream suit.
    â€˜Let go of Vamenos!’