“I thanked him already,”the boy said.“You don't need to thank him.”
“Que va.”The boy said.“ It is what a man must do.”
“Baseball I think,”the boy said.“ Tell me about the great John J.McGraw.”He said Jota for J.
“And the best fisherman is you.”
“I know it,”the boy said.“I'll be right back. Have another coffee.We have credit here.”
“Who gave this to you?”
“I know.”
“Sleep well old man.”
Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy.But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbors and roadsteads of the Canary Islands.
“I know.But this is in bottles,Hatuey beer,and I take back the bottles.”
“Your stew is excellent,”the old man said.
“I'm not very hungry.”
“There was nothing ever like them.He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.”