He walked across the plaza diagonally, passing the groups of viejos in soft hats and wool suits who sat talking on the benches. The great fountain in the center was lit against the dark sky and the jets of water from the top glowed yellow. There were a few stray pigeons left shuffling around the plaza but most of the flock had gone up to roost in the various alcoves of he cathedral. He could even see one resting on each shoulder of the carved Virgin over the doorway. The stars were beginning to show, sharp and clear in the thin mountain atmosphere. The dark grey stone on the ground was worn smooth and the shrubs and flower-beds were maintained well. It was a beautiful plaza and he liked walking it, especially at night. He crossed the street on the other side of the square and started down a small pedestrian road feeling good and light and gripping the familiar weight of the leather bag in his right hand. He arrived at the ABC cafe and John the crazy host opened the door for him with his crazy looking smile and bulging eyes and said “buenas, SeƱor Day.” “Thank you John, have you seen el jefe?” Crazy John said that he had not but that “el jefe” would surely be here soon if Mr. Day would like to take a seat at the back table near the wall. That sounded excellent and he would certainly appreciate a Johnny Walker Black and a bottle of water with gas while he waited. But of course. And Crazy John was on his way to the bar with that long country stride and big loose crazy head. He watched the crazy host and then walked to the back, placing his bag on the floor next to the table. After removing his navy blazer, he hung it on the back of the chair and slid the bag under the table with his foot. He looked around the nearly empty restaurant and then seated himself. Crazy John returned quickly with the drink and watched with approval as Mr. Day took a long drink from the glass. Once John had left him, The man who’s last name was Day poured some of the gaseous water in to the whiskey and took another drink.
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