of his old friend. It was difficult to read, as if Santiago was organizing the information into compartments. At the end, the Cuban looked at Siri for a few seconds with an expression of pity. He pulled the perennial cigarette from between his lips and surrounded his head with a halo of smoke. Then there was a glint, perhaps of admiration, and finally, Santiago began to laugh. He refilled their glasses and patted his colleagues on the back as if this was the best news he'd heard in a long time.
Siri was once again sidelined while Santiago took his turn to tell another story. Dtui interrupted often to clarify points, looked shocked here, fascinated there, and at the end she sighed and raised her eyebrows. Then there was silence.
"What? What is it?" Siri said, flustered at being left in the dark.
"Oh, hello, Doc. You still there?" she smiled. "Look, I tell you what. I'm a bit tired ..."
"Nurse Chundee Vongheuan, if you don't tell me right this minute ..."
She giggled. "Only joking, Doc. Keep your toupee on." She took a sip of her whisky and settled back to begin Santiago's story. "Now that the old fellow knows how weird you are, he seems to feel confident enough to tell you what really happened here. It seems there was more to the two interns than met the eye. He was afraid if he told you everything you'd think he was out of his mind, so he's happy we can all be nuts together now."
Santiago smiled and looked at Dtui as if he was enjoying the story he had told her anew. He threw back another mouthful of whisky like a fire-eater about to blow forth a torrent of flames.
Dtui began, "In Cuba, it seems, they have their own shamans and strong connections to the spirit world. There are big cults and little cults. Many of the priests of these cults are phony. But there are some that really communicate with the spirits."
"Does Dr. Santiago actually believe this?" Siri asked.
Santiago laughed again when he understood the question.
"So he says. He strongly believes in the spirit world. He says he's seen too much in his life that has no scientific explanation. He says if you like, he could spend the next two weeks describing the rites of Palo and--what was it, Santeria?" She looked at Santiago, who nodded. "We don't want him to do that, do we?"
"I think not."
"Good. Then I'll just keep to the point: the reason that he sent the two Cuban orderlies home. It wasn't because Isandro was fooling around with the local girls. That was a good excuse, something he could write in a report to Havana. But there were other reasons. He was happy with the work they did, so obviously the things he found out about them had to be serious for him to sacrifice two valuable assistants."
She stopped.
"Well, what were they, these reasons?"
"He didn't tell me."
"What?"
"He says he'll take us to their cave in the morning so we can see for ourselves. Frustrating, isn't it?"
"Painfully so."
No amount of pleading and sulking would force the Cuban to change his plan.
They finished their nightcaps and retired to their allotted sleeping spaces in the nearby middle-school classrooms.
Earlier, Siri had been shown his spot, where several nylon quilts were laid out for him at the front of a year-two classroom. Someone had chalked WELCOME VISITOR on the blackboard. But as he approached the room now, he noticed that the door was open and he heard peculiar sounds from inside. Desks were being shifted. Something dropped to the floor and broke. Breaths, deep inhuman snorts. He considered going for help but realized he didn't know what he needed help for--or from. He grasped his amulet through his shirt and strode to the doorway.
In the light of a small orange candle someone had left burning for him on the teacher's desk, Siri saw a bizarre scene. Five buffalo in the small room were each apparently vying for a position at the front by the blackboard. One creature had leaned against the chalk and been branded with the messageTwo had already claimed their places
Siri was once again sidelined while Santiago took his turn to tell another story. Dtui interrupted often to clarify points, looked shocked here, fascinated there, and at the end she sighed and raised her eyebrows. Then there was silence.
"What? What is it?" Siri said, flustered at being left in the dark.
"Oh, hello, Doc. You still there?" she smiled. "Look, I tell you what. I'm a bit tired ..."
"Nurse Chundee Vongheuan, if you don't tell me right this minute ..."
She giggled. "Only joking, Doc. Keep your toupee on." She took a sip of her whisky and settled back to begin Santiago's story. "Now that the old fellow knows how weird you are, he seems to feel confident enough to tell you what really happened here. It seems there was more to the two interns than met the eye. He was afraid if he told you everything you'd think he was out of his mind, so he's happy we can all be nuts together now."
Santiago smiled and looked at Dtui as if he was enjoying the story he had told her anew. He threw back another mouthful of whisky like a fire-eater about to blow forth a torrent of flames.
Dtui began, "In Cuba, it seems, they have their own shamans and strong connections to the spirit world. There are big cults and little cults. Many of the priests of these cults are phony. But there are some that really communicate with the spirits."
"Does Dr. Santiago actually believe this?" Siri asked.
Santiago laughed again when he understood the question.
"So he says. He strongly believes in the spirit world. He says he's seen too much in his life that has no scientific explanation. He says if you like, he could spend the next two weeks describing the rites of Palo and--what was it, Santeria?" She looked at Santiago, who nodded. "We don't want him to do that, do we?"
"I think not."
"Good. Then I'll just keep to the point: the reason that he sent the two Cuban orderlies home. It wasn't because Isandro was fooling around with the local girls. That was a good excuse, something he could write in a report to Havana. But there were other reasons. He was happy with the work they did, so obviously the things he found out about them had to be serious for him to sacrifice two valuable assistants."
She stopped.
"Well, what were they, these reasons?"
"He didn't tell me."
"What?"
"He says he'll take us to their cave in the morning so we can see for ourselves. Frustrating, isn't it?"
"Painfully so."
No amount of pleading and sulking would force the Cuban to change his plan.
They finished their nightcaps and retired to their allotted sleeping spaces in the nearby middle-school classrooms.
Earlier, Siri had been shown his spot, where several nylon quilts were laid out for him at the front of a year-two classroom. Someone had chalked WELCOME VISITOR on the blackboard. But as he approached the room now, he noticed that the door was open and he heard peculiar sounds from inside. Desks were being shifted. Something dropped to the floor and broke. Breaths, deep inhuman snorts. He considered going for help but realized he didn't know what he needed help for--or from. He grasped his amulet through his shirt and strode to the doorway.
In the light of a small orange candle someone had left burning for him on the teacher's desk, Siri saw a bizarre scene. Five buffalo in the small room were each apparently vying for a position at the front by the blackboard. One creature had leaned against the chalk and been branded with the messageTwo had already claimed their places
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