8. Commerce

Ervey and Chonito went a long time without saying anything to each other. Ervey pushed the Kodiak hard on the highway. He passed many slower moving vehicles without even signaling and with the opposing traffic sometimes getting close enough he could make out the drivers´ faces. Chonito stared straight ahead at nothing in particular, his forehead deeply furrowed. The countryside was flat and barren. The sky was completely clear. The only color on the otherwise tan and blue panorama was the continuous stream of litter along the highway.


Ervey had to slow down when he reached Camargo, as the highway traffic had bunched up on account of the rising tide of local traffic.


"Santa Rosalía de Camargo," Chonito said, "what roses? Nothing but adobes and skinny kids here."


Ervey remained silent, concentrating on getting their big truck safely through the traffic. They passed many decrepit vehicles tottering on the highway on the verge of a breakdown, some of them packed with people and others loaded down with all sorts of cargo. They also passed many shiny new pick-up trucks, almost all of them with tinted windows.


"The big claim to fame here is that they were completely wiped out by the the Apaches. Seems they're still trying to come back from it centuries later." Chonito said."


Not waiting for his partner to engage, he went on, "just look at those güeys in that old Chevy in front of us." He pointed to an old muddy car full of people, arms dangling from the side windows and children looking out in wonder from the rear window as if they were coming into town for the first time in their lives. "How much closer can that car get to the point of completely falling apart on the highway with all of those people exposed to getting run over by a big truck like this one?" he asked rhetorically.


Annoyed by the mental image his companion had just suggested, Ervey briefly screwed up his face. "It's not their fault," he said, "if you drive by here again a few years from now you'll see that some of them will be driving new pick-ups."


"From where?" Chonito asked, "I don't know how this town even supports itself now."


"Commerce," said Ervey.


"Commerce?" said Chonito, "chiclets to bus passengers and beer to the guys coming back from working as wetbacks in the US?"


"Well, everybody does it the best they can," Ervey said, "not everybody has an uncle who can give them a job as a driver."


"And because of that, you got a job as a driver, too," Chonito said.


"No doubt, but I'm just biding my time until the baby's bigger and Fabiola can get back to work," said Ervey, "I don't believe this job will last very long anyway."


"You really think you're going to go back to school and finish as a doctor, güey?" Chonito inquired, "won't you have forgotten what you learned in the first couple of years?"


"No, you don't forget what you were if you don't want to," said Ervey, "it's all a matter of necessity versus desire, and right now the two line up for me."