The Cabin [La barraca]

by Vicente Blasco Ibáñez

His counter was the watch-tower from which, as an expert critic, he watched the drunkenness of his customers. And in order that no outsider should assume the rôle of bully in his house, he always put his hand before speaking upon a club which he kept under the counter, a species of ace of clubs, the sight of which made Pimentó and all the bullies of the neighbourhood tremble. In his house there was no trouble. If they were going to kill each other, out into the road! And when claspknives began to be opened and raised aloft on Sunday nights, Copa, without speaking a word, nor losing his composure, would rush in between the combatants, seize the bravest by the arm, carry him through space to the door and put him out upon the very highroad; then barring the door, he would calmly begin to count the money in the drawer before going to bed, while blows and the tumult of the renewed quarrel resounded outside. It was all just a matter of closing the tavern an hour early, but within it, there would never need to be a judge while he should be behind the counter.

Batiste, after glancing furtively from the door to the saloonkeeper, who, aided by his wife and a servant, waited on the customers, returned to the little plaza, and joined a group of old people, who were discussing which of the three supporters of the bet seemed most serene.

Many farmers, tired of admiring the three bullies, were playing cards on their own account, or lunched, forming a group around the little tables. The jug circulated, pouring forth a red stream which emitted a faint glu-glu as it gushed into the open mouths. Some gave others handfuls of peanuts and lupines. The maids of the tavern served in hollow plates from Manises the dark and oily black-puddings, the fresh cheese and the split olives in their broth, on whose surface floated fragrant herbs; and on the little tables appeared the new wheat bread, the rolls of ruddy crust, inside of which the dark and succulent substance of the thick flour of the huerta was visible. All these people, eating, drinking, and gesticulating, raised such a buzzing that one would have thought the little plaza occupied by a colossal wasp's nest. In the atmosphere floated the vapours of alcohol, the suffocating fumes of olive-oil, the penetrating odour of must, mingled with the fresh perfume of the neighbouring fields.

Batiste drew near the large group which surrounded those involved in the wager.

At first he did not see anything; but gradually, pushed ahead by the curiosity of those who were behind him, he opened a space between the sweaty and compressed bodies, until he found himself in the first row. Some spectators were seated on the floor, with their chin supported on both hands, their nose over the edge of the little table, and their eyes fixed upon the players, as though they did not wish to lose one detail of the famous event. Here it was that the odour of alcohol proved to be most intolerable. The breath and the clothing of all the people seemed impregnated with it.

Batiste looked at Pimentó and his opponents seated upon stools of strong carob-wood, with the cards before their eyes, the jar of brandy within easy reach, and on the zinc the little heap of corn which was equivalent to chips for the game. And at each play, one of the three grasped the jar, drank deliberately, then passed it on to his companions, who took a long draft with no less ceremony.

The onlookers nearest by looked at the cards over their shoulders in order to be sure they were well played. But the heads of the players were as steady as if they had drunk nothing more than water: no one became careless or made a poor play.

And the game continued, although those in the wager never ceased to talk with their friends, or to joke over the outcome of the contest.

Pimentó, upon seeing Batiste, mumbled a "Hello!" which he intended for a salutation, and returned to his cards.

Unmoved outwardly he might be; but his eyes were red; a bluish unsteady spark, similar to the flame of alcohol, glowed in their pupils, and his face at times took on a dull pallor. The others were no better; but they laughed and joked among themselves: the onlookers, as though infected by this madness, passed from hand to hand the jug which they paid for in shares, and there was a regular inundation of brandy which, overflowing the tavern, descended like a wave of fire into the stomachs of all.