Dona Nicanora's Hat Shop (34 page)

‘How dare you?' The mayor was spitting as he spoke. ‘How dare you contradict the town council? The terms of the lease for this shop were drawn up between Don Bosco and me. He knew exactly what our agreement was, and he has now of his own volition agreed to hand the shop back to me, and for a very tidy sum I might add.'

‘Don Ramirez, I believe there has been a misunderstanding,' Nicanora said. ‘Don Bosco has handed the keys over to me while he has a short break, as you will see from this note. Do you have
anything in writing that contradicts his wishes stated here?' and Nicanora handed to the mayor the letter that Don Bosco had given her, with a few key passages blotted out.

The mayor looked at the letter and then at Nicanora. ‘Hat shop?' he said. ‘What's he talking about? A hat shop?'

‘Never mind that,' Nicanora said. ‘That was a mistake. This is a barber's shop, and that is how it will stay, at least while under my management.'

‘I have come to tell you that we have very important visitors arriving tomorrow and I need this shop back,
now
,' the mayor said, almost stamping his feet. Gloria chose this as her moment to make her presence known.

‘Gloria,' the mayor said. ‘What are you doing here? I've been worried sick about you. I've been looking everywhere for you.'

‘How sweet,' Gloria replied.

‘Gloria, what do you think you are doing?'

‘Helping Doña Nicanora,' she said.

‘Helping Doña Nicanora do what?'

‘Cut hair and shave beards,' Gloria replied.

‘Gloria,' the mayor said, ‘that just isn't seemly. I demand that you come home this minute.'

‘I am sorry, Rodriguez,' Gloria replied. ‘You're just going to have to do without me.'

‘Gloria, my love,' the mayor pleaded. ‘This is all Lucia's doing. It's all a lie. Whatever it is that Lucia has been telling you, I can assure you, it is a lie.'

‘That's what I am afraid of,' Gloria replied.

‘Gloria, come home and talk to me. I will make Lucia confess what she has done. She has always hated me because I married you and not her. I can prove it's all a lie.'

‘I don't need you to prove what I already know,' Gloria said. ‘Prove to me instead that it has not been a lie – our marriage, our life together. In the meantime, I have work to do,' and she disappeared to the back of the shop.

‘I think we have nothing further to say to each other for the moment,' Nicanora said, ‘unless you would like a shave.' And then she whispered in the mayor's ear, ‘I know about your agreement. I know where Don Bosco has kept it all these years, and I am sure you would not want me to make it public, especially not with visitors arriving. Or would you like me to pin it to the door so that everyone can see what sort of agreement it is that gives the town council the right to take a man's property from him?'

Nicanora turned and left the mayor standing dumbstruck as one of the men from the crowd approached her. ‘Excuse me. Is that hat for sale?' he said, pointing at the barber's pole.

‘Of course it isn't,' Nicanora replied. ‘It belongs to Don Bosco.'

‘Yes, but it doesn't look as if he wants it any more. Anyway, he won't be needing it now, will he? How much do you want for it?'

‘I have told you, it is not for sale,' Nicanora replied, furious. ‘This is a barber's, not a hat shop,' and she went back inside and put the ‘Closed' sign on the door.

Nicanora was feeling the full weight of the responsibility of having Doña Gloria to stay. As soon as she had put her new house guest safely to bed, Nicanora sat down with Ernesto.

‘We need to talk. I want you to take him back where he came from,' she said pointing in the direction of the Gringito, who was sitting in the front yard, smoking as usual.

‘But I don't know where he came from.'

‘I mean I want you to put him back where you found him,' Nicanora said. ‘I need you to go to Puerta de la Coruña tomorrow in your pickup truck. Will you do that for me? I have thought about it all day and I know what I have to do to put everything to rights again. I need to ask the Virgin for her forgiveness and for her blessing to bring Don Bosco home. If you go to Puerta de la Coruña, you can get rid of the Gringito and bring back the beer we will need for the fiesta at the same time.'

‘Are we having a fiesta?' Nena said bursting into the room. ‘Can we have fireworks? You can't have a fiesta without fireworks.'

‘Nena,' Nicanora said, exasperated that it was impossible to have any privacy in her own house. ‘I don't want either of you to breathe
a word of this yet, do you understand? I will announce it tomorrow when everyone is gathered for the visitors. That way the mayor will not be able to stop me.'

‘Can you do that?' Ernesto asked. ‘It has only ever been the mayor's family who have hosted the fiesta before.'

‘That's because they are the only ones who have ever been able to afford to pay for it before,' Nicanora said. ‘I have the Gringito's money now and this is how I want to use it.'

‘Why?' Ernesto asked. ‘Why do you want to get rid of him suddenly?'

‘Because', Nicanora said, ‘so far he has only brought us bad luck, and this way at least the whole town will benefit from his money. Don't you see? The Gringito's money is the reason that Don Bosco left. And now these visitors are coming. If they find the Gringito here, it will change our town for good, and it will be my fault for letting him stay. The mayor will convince them to build a road, more tourists will come, and before long everything will be out of control. Now I understand what Don Bosco meant when he said don't let anything bad happen to our town. I have to stop the visitors seeing we have a foreigner here.'

‘What's wrong with foreigners?' Nena asked.

‘Nothing,' Nicanora said, ‘that's not what I meant.'

‘He isn't a foreigner once you get to know him,' Nena mumbled. ‘You've just never tried to talk to him.'

‘Well, I can't understand what he says,' Nicanora replied.

‘You haven't listened hard enough.'

‘That is not the point,' Nicanora said, knowing that she was never able to win an argument with her daughter.

‘What is the point then?' Nena asked, defiant.

‘He's different, that's all,' Nicanora said. ‘And it worries me.'

‘We're all different,' Nena mumbled.

‘Nena, have you talked to him yet?' Nicanora said.

‘Yes. He says he doesn't want to go.'

‘Why not? I thought he would be pleased. I thought he didn't know how to get home.'

‘He says he doesn't want to go to Puerta de la Coruña. He doesn't like it there.'

‘Why not?' Nicanora asked.

‘It's full of people like him. He finds them boring.'

‘I can see his point there,' Ernesto said.

‘He says he's happy here.'

‘How can he be happy here?' Nicanora said. ‘He doesn't know anyone. He doesn't do anything. I don't understand why he wants to stay, it isn't his home.'

‘He says he's found himself.'

‘Found himself?' Nicanora said. ‘So he was lost then?'

‘He's worried that he isn't paying you enough. He said that he will pay you more if he can stay for another few weeks.'

‘More?' Nicanora said. ‘The whole point of the fiesta is to spend his money, not to make more out of him.'

‘But can't he just stay for the fireworks? After all, if he's paying for the party he should be able to be there. Perhaps I can persuade him to leave after that.'

‘Nena, he has to leave by the morning and that is that. I'm not going to argue with you about it any more. I've made up my mind. Ernesto, do you think you will be able to get to Puerta de la Coruña and back by Saturday? We must have the fiesta this Sunday, the sooner the better.'

‘I'll do my best,' Ernesto said.

‘You will be careful on that road, won't you?' Nicanora said, and
she pushed a small doll into Ernesto's hand. ‘She will make sure you are safe.'

‘I'll be fine,' Ernesto said. ‘I've done it before. I'll take the doctor with me for company. And I'll bring you back a special box of fireworks,' he said, winking at his sulking sister.

The town awoke the following day ready to receive some very important guests. The word had spread quickly that unexpected visitors were on their way and would be arriving at lunchtime, by helicopter. The conclusion had been reached, through a chain of whispers, that the mayor had kept the visit a secret until the last minute for security reasons. The visitors, it had been decided, were a party of foreign dignitaries, very possibly including the head of state of a neighbouring country with whom the president had been in dispute for some years over land matters; he was now trying to make amends by hosting a visit to the humble town. A helicopter had been spotted in the early hours of the morning by some farmers who had seen it hovering in the distance over a remote patch of swampland. ‘They must have been looking for a place to land,' the excited farmers had decided and had rushed back to tell their friends. A competing rumour had been circulating that had gained slightly less favour, which was that one of the visitors was the Gringito's father, who was coming to take his son home at last.

Nicanora had not slept at all, worried that the mayor might take it into his head to try to break in and claim possession of the barber's shop in the middle of the night. When she opened the shop in the morning she almost tripped over the body of the sleeping mayor
snoring in the doorway. A small group of men who were waiting eagerly outside immediately rushed up to her. ‘I'm very sorry, we're not quite ready for business yet,' Nicanora said, stepping over the sleeping mayor and placing the barber's pole outside the shop.

‘No, no, it's not that,' one of the men said. ‘I just want you to tell me what to do about my sick goat.'

‘You see, I went home last night,' Don Amelio explained, ‘and my chickens had returned, just as you said they would.'

‘And my wife has made a miraculous recovery from the swamp fever. By the time I got home all she had to show for it was a red nose.'

‘Can you tell me whether I should go to the slopes to harvest my coffee next week as I planned, or leave it for another few weeks?'

Nicanora stood listening to the men's requests with a sinking heart. A wise woman, her mother had always told her, will learn from her mistakes.

Nicanora was not the only person not to have slept that night. Nena had been waiting for the early dawn to break before waking the Gringito. ‘I'm taking you to visit a friend for a few days,' she explained as she led him out of the house. ‘You can come back on Sunday for the fiesta. I know somewhere you will be safe. I'll take you to the medicine man. He'll ask the ancestors for help, so that you can make this your home if you want to.' Then she added as an afterthought, ‘You will have to pay him in pesos.'

As Nena made her way back home in the morning light having accomplished her mission, it seemed to her that the forest had suddenly given birth to a new creature. Distant figures moved
through the undergrowth, human in form, foreign in being, leaves covering their heads and faces. They were quietly talking into little black boxes that they held in their hands.