“You’re right,” I said. “We’re going to have to find a good place to hide this road show.” Glottis sighed and switched the engine off. Sometimes he just lost perspective when he was behind the wheel. “Speaking of hiding,” I went on, “I wonder if Meche’s here already?” I started walking up to the Rub-a-Mat. “I’m going to see what I can stir up,” I called back to Glottis. Then to myself, “Not a bad piece of real estate, actually. It’s got potential.”
The entrance to the Rub-a-Mat was under the cactus part of the building. Once inside I finally understood the ‘mat’ part. “An automat!” I said quietly to myself. “Man, I haven’t been in one of these places since I was a kid!”
The joint seemed empty except for a guy mopping at the other end of the building. The dining area was brightly lit and colorful in a sterilized kind of way. Currently-empty food slots lined the walls, each labeled with a numbered plastic card. I scanned them as I walked past. There was everything from simple sandwiches and salads to full dinners, just like the old-time automats I remembered. The guy with the mop turned partly toward me as I approached. He looked familiar. I walked closer to get a better look. ‘Small world,’ I thought.
“Mr. Flores,” I said in a low voice. Celso jumped. “I’m ready to take you now.”
“Manny Calavera?” Celso sounded as surprised as he looked. “Is that you?” He looked me up and down. “Didn’t you use to be taller?”
There was no point in explaining, so I just went on with what had become my opening line. “I’m looking for a woman named Mercedes Colomar.”
“Well,” Celso said, returning to his mopping, “no one’s come through town by that name, and you can take it from me for I, too, am looking for someone. So I watch the comings and goings around here very carefully.”
“Who are you looking for?” I asked.
“Well,” Celso said, stopping to lean on his mop, “if you must know, it’s about my wife. She passed away not long before I, and I’ve heard that she, too, is crossing the Land of the Dead on foot. It is said that all lost souls come to Rubacava, so I came here to wait for her.”
“Don’t you think she might have gone ahead of you?”
“Oh, Manny! If she had arrived here first, surely she would have waited for me.”
I thought that was debatable, but I kept it to myself. “I don’t suppose anyone named Lola has called with a message for me, has she?”
Celso shook his head and said, “Not that I know of, but maybe you should ask the boss when he gets in. The only phone we’ve got is in his office upstairs.”
“OK. Know a good place to stay in town?” I asked.
“What’s your price range?”
“Somewhere around the high end of nothing.”
“Then maybe, young man, it’s time you started thinking about getting a job.”
“Can you get me a job here?”
“Have any skills?” Celso asked.
I shrugged. “Sales.”
“Well, we do need someone to close, but you’ll have to talk to the boss about that, too. He’ll be in after noon.”
“Why so late?” I asked.
“Because we don’t have anyone to close,” Celso said shortly. “I’m sorry, Manuel, but I’ve got to get this place ready to open.”
“OK,” I said, “but I’ll be back to talk to your boss. And maybe I can help you find your wife.”
“She’ll be the one asking for her beloved Celso,” he said.
“Right,” I said on my way out.
When I got back outside I saw someone by the Bone Wagon talking to Glottis. The guy wore a seaman’s jacket and looked kind of official. And, for some reason, he was wearing an eye-patch.
“Well, actually,” I heard Glottis saying as I approached the car, “it’s mostly stock with a few mods here and there.”
“So would those be glass packs I’m hearing,” the stranger asked in a raspy voice, “or turbos?”
“Hola,” I said.
“Hey, Manny!” Glottis exclaimed. “Dockmaster Velasco here says he’s got a place we can dry dock the Bone Wagon for a while.”
“Oh, yeah,” Velasco said. “We can’t leave a beauty like this out in the fog or her chrome will get pitted.”
“Pitted?” Glottis asked with a quaver in his voice. “Did you hear that, Manny?”
“You folks gonna stay in Rubacava for a spell?” Velasco asked.
“We might be here a while, yeah,” I answered. “We’re looking for a woman named Mercedes Colomar.”
“Hmm…” Velasco considered a moment. “Well, I’m not too good with names,” he eventually said. “Did she have any distinguishing marks? A tattoo?”
“Not that she showed me. Is there any work in this town?” I asked, switching tracks. I wasn’t sure I wanted to work with Celso.
“Well, there’s plenty of work down by the docks, but it’s all union work and I just don’t see you in that union.” Velasco laughed at whatever he thought was funny about me in the union.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Maybe,” he said. “I wouldn’t know, son. It’s a big town and I don’t memorize the want ads. You’ll just have to hunt around like everyone else.”
“Sorry,” I said. “We’re getting kind of low on cash and—”
Velasco waved that away. “Oh, don’t apologize. I know how folks are when they come into town. Hell, I was the same way m’self.”
“Actually, I think I have a prospect already.”
“Then take it,” Velasco said. “Don’t be too proud to accept what’s offered.”
“Manny,” Glottis suddenly said, “could I have an eye-patch?”
Velasco laughed.
“Can I just ask,” I said, “what is under the eye-patch? ’Cause I know it’s not an eye.”
“Oh, well,” Velasco said, still chuckling, “when I was alive I had an eye-patch like this. This’n’s just for the phantom pain. That one eye socket used to scream like a banshee when the trade winds blew, so I plugged ’er.” Velasco looked over at the Rub-a-Mat. “Looks like that idiot Celso’s finally openin’ up,” he said, starting to walk to the door.
“Hey,” Glottis said, getting out of the car, “I’m hungry, too.”
“Am I supposed to guard the Bone Wagon?” I protested.
“Oh, just put ’er where I told you, Glottis,” Velasco said. “You shouldn’t have any trouble finding it.”
“OK, Mr. Velasco,” Glottis said as he got back into the car and tore off.
“There’s a big shed at the end of the docks,” Velasco explained. “The doors are too heavy for me to open. Haven’t been able to get inside since Aitor went to work for that damn cat track. You comin’ in for breakfast?”
“We’re pretty strapped,” I said, “and Glottis needs to eat more than I do. I’m just gonna look around town.”
“Suit yourself,” Velasco said, “but watch your step. Rubacava ain’t the quaint little port town she used to be.” He gave a kind of lazy wave and disappeared inside the Rub-a-Mat.
Rubacava was situated along a cliff over the Sea of Lament. The Rub-a-Mat and a few other buildings were alongside the road at the top with the airport further inland. The rest of the town was along the base and on the cluster of rocky islands offshore. Except for the docks there wasn’t much activity at this early hour. Unlike El Marrow, Rubacava was supposed to have quite a night life. Most of the town wouldn’t really get moving until the morning was pretty old.
I went looking for a post office and found it fairly quickly, but it was still closed. There was a telegraph office nearby. That was open so I went in there to send my first ‘report’ to Salvador.