The pickup was idling on the front lawn.
Jerry talked about the 2 months he spent in Mexico to the guy sitting next to him.
1170 – The only 24/7 Caribbean station in the Nation! – played on the AM dial.
Everyone else was inside, digesting lobsters and crabs, tuna and salmon, steak.
Jerry talked about how it was in Mexico. Through a friend of a friend, he was able to stay on a 7,000 acre hacienda at his leisure.
“Alejandro’s parents lived in the hacienda. It had a really big courtyard with dozens of rooms opening on to it.”
“You mean it had a balcony running around it?”
“No, it was only 1 floor. Alejandro lived in 1 of the houses scattered around the 7,000 acres. It had 2 bedrooms and 1 room with a bunch of peyote.”
“Peyote! What do you do with peyote? Do you smoke it?”
“Nah. You make tea.”
Jerry turned off the engine. The cabin light dimmed, but 1170 AM continued to spread the Caribbean.
“Alejandro’s parents had these horses that were raised on the hacienda. They knew the turf, you know what I mean, and the turf was covered in confetti. It was like the sky exploded confetti down on the valley, but instead of bits of paper it was giant boulders. They were everywhere, man, and these horses knew how to weave through them. From 1 end of the valley to the other it had to have been ~5 miles, and we were tripping on peyote for 2-3 days, I mean tripping hard, and we rode the horses from 1 end to the other all day long. They’d clip-clop around the rocks at full speed.”
“How big were these horses?”
“And you could handle them?”
“I know my way around horses, but you really didn’t have to do much. These horses knew the way on their own. All you had to do was hold on.”
Jerry straightened his cap. The guy sitting next to him looked at the logo on his cap and didn’t know what MH meant. He didn’t bother asking. It didn’t matter. What did matter was all that peyote, and those horses, and that valley with giant boulders.
Don, the owner of the front lawn and the house that came with it, shuffled across some grass toward the pickup. He carried a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other. He said we were wanted in the shed.
Jerry stepped out of the pickup and laughed knowingly.
“What, Don? You want us to help count tools?”
The other guy asked Jerry if he wanted his keys before following them across the backyard and into the shed.
1170 AM was already tuned in on the radio.