Jimmy is about to react angrily, but at that very moment several passengers enter the car and greet him with reverence.
“Good day, my children,” Jimmy responds, blessing them with the sign of the cross. “May God be with you.”
Clemen turns to them with his foolish grin.
“What an imbecile you are,” Jimmy says angrily in his ear. “How dare you do something like that? If someone had seen you, we’d be in serious trouble.”
“Nobody saw me,” Clemen whispers.
“I can’t believe it. You don’t take anything seriously. You’re playing games with our lives.”
“The tonsure suits you,” Clemen says, teasingly. “Nobody would recognize you.”
Jimmy passes his hand over it, then solemnly declares, “Father Dionisio knows what he’s doing.”
“Maybe he was a barber before he became a priest. ”
“He made you look like an orphan in the poorhouse,” Jimmy mutters between clenched teeth without turning around to look at him, and without losing the severe expression on his face. “You look better now than you did before. ”
Clemen passes both his hands over his shaved head.
The train car has filled up; the engine whistles furiously.
“Move over to this seat,” Jimmy orders him under his breath. “It’s better if we sit facing each other.
“I don’t like facing backwards, I get sick,” Clemen answers. “I’m just fine here.”
“Brother, I am ordering you to change your seat,” Jimmy says sternly.
A young, good-looking woman is standing next to them; she has put down the two suitcases she was carrying. The train sways; she grabs onto a handle, about to lose her balance. Clemen jumps up to help her.
“Good morning, Father. May I sit here?”
Clemen quickly moves the suitcases onto the seat facing Jimmy and gestures for her to sit in the one next to it.
“You are very kind, thank you,” she says.
Her skin is light, as are her eyes, she is slender, and she is wearing a cream-colored close-fitting dress, her hair pulled back with a red scarf.
Clemen looks at her, surprised and eager, then immediately gives her his foolish smile. She smiles at him as she sits down — a gorgeous smile: full fleshy lips and perfect teeth.
Jimmy looks at her for a second out of the corner of his eye; he remains in a state of deep concentration, as if he were praying, his Bible on his lap and held firmly in both hands.
“Did you just get on?” Clemen asks with feigned sheepishness.
“No,” she answers. “I boarded in San Salvador, but I changed cars because there are a lot of children in the other one, and one was vomiting, the poor dear., “ she explains, making a face of disgust. “Forgive me for mentioning it, Father,” she adds, turning to look at Jimmy.
He barely glances up at her with his placid gaze, then subtly nods in her direction, as if granting her forgiveness.
Clemen is making an even more idiotic face, but he is so enchanted he doesn’t take his eyes off her.
“Are you quite alright, Brother?” Jimmy asks, turning to look at Clemen with a stern expression; he then turns to the woman. “He gets a bit dizzy. He’s not used to traveling by train.”
“I’m fine, Father,” Clemen says and flashes his idiot smile. Then he asks her, “How far are you going?”
“I’m getting off soon, in San Vicente. And you two?”
“Usulután. ”
Clemen has placed his knapsack on the ground between his legs; he bends over to open it and rummage around inside, as if he were looking for something; he takes the opportunity to sneak a peek at her knees.
“I went to spend the Holy Week with my aunt and uncle, but everything was so nerve-racking because of the coup.,” she complains.
“Were you in any danger, my daughter?” Jimmy asks.
“It was horrible, Father. My uncle’s house is in the El Calvario district, near the Second Infantry Regiment. I thought we were all going to die with all the shooting.,” she says with a groan as she crosses herself.
“Calm yourself, my child, let us thank the Lord that it is all over now. ”
Clemen is still bent over, rummaging around in his knapsack, furtively glancing at the woman’s knees. Jimmy turns to him and asks sternly:
“Have you lost something, Brother?”
“An orange, Father.”
“Perhaps you left it at the church.”
“I was sure I brought it with me,” he says, sitting up.
“I have an orange,” she says, opening her handbag.
“No, please, my child,” Jimmy stops her. “It won’t be good for him to eat on the train; it will upset his stomach.”
Clemen glares at him, then quickly resumes his meek expression.
The conductor appears next to him with his blue uniform, his cap, and his thin, well-groomed moustache.
“Good morning, Father,” he says, greeting him with a little bow.
The woman takes her ticket out of her bag and hands it to him; the conductor punches it and returns it with a smile that wants to be polite but oozes lust.
“We’ll pay you now for ours,” Jimmy tells him. “We got to the station too late to buy them there. We were accompanying some of our congregants and almost missed our train. I hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all, Father. Where are you going?”
“We boarded at San Rafael Cedros, and we’re getting off at Usulután.”
Clemen takes some banknotes out of his trouser pocket and hands them to the conductor, the idiotic smile still on his face.
“Do you think you could possibly arrange a compartment for us.?” Jimmy asks solicitously.
The conductor looks at the woman.
“For the sacristan and myself,” Jimmy explains. “This has been a quite exhausting Holy Week, and I would prefer the faithful not to see me nodding off. ”
“There are none available at the moment, Father. I’ll see if I can get you one in San Vicente.”
He hands the tickets and the change to Clemen.
“The Lord would be most grateful, my son.”
The conductor starts to walk away, giving the woman one last look before he leaves.
“Are you from San Vicente?” Clemen asks the woman.
“Yes,” she answers. “I was born there and still live there.”
“A lovely town,” Clemen says, obsequiously.
“Thank you.”
“Do you live with your parents?”
“Yes.”
“Do you work?”
“I’m a primary school teacher, I teach in the afternoons.”
Jimmy, irritated, clears his throat; he has closed his eyes, as if trying to concentrate on his prayers.
“How interesting,” Clemen exclaims. “You must love children. ”
“Very much,” she says, smiling.
“What’s your name?”
“Ana María,” she answers. “Ana María Fuentes. And you?”
“Tino, they call me Tino,” Clemen answers, flashing a full smile. “How lucky for you that you’ll soon be at your destination. Your boyfriend will probably be there waiting for you, won’t he?”
Her face turns bright red.
“Brother, you know very well the Lord does not approve of gossip,” Jimmy warns him in a strict voice, looking at Clemen out of the corner of his eye. “Please restrain yourself. Focus on your prayers.”
She lowers her eyes, ashamed. She opens her bag, takes out a newspaper, unfolds in, and begins to read, holding it up between her and the two men.
Jimmy and Clemen’s jaws drop, they are in shock, their eyes glued to the front page: REBELS EXECUTED, the headline reads in huge bold letters. They swallow hard and exchange looks, their faces as white as sheets.
“How terrible,” she says. “Those poor men. ”