Evening Star Newspaper, March 3, 1935, Page 81

P - AN —— . ¥t RN S expectancv Had But By ANNA BRAND tavo had existed for years. With unquenchable hope Enriqueattempted practically everything Gustavo did, and invariably he succeeded in doing it almost as well — but never quite. “That Gustavo,” the Mexicans in little Chihuahua wagged their heads and chuckled, “the devil himself could not trip him!" And Gustavo never cheated. He was irre- futably straightforward and honest. Blithely sporting even. It was buena suerte with him — pure and undiluted good luck. Within him was an obscure conviction, a profound super- stition, that should he resort to lies his good fortune would forever desert him. He must win honestly. And he did. Which was cold comfort to Enrique. It had begun with little Isovel Garcia, who had been by far the most fetching girl in the Mexican settlement and the most boldly Americanized. That was during the era of marcel waves and knee-high skirts, and Isovel's glossy black hair lay in geometrical curves and her rayon knees were alluringly visible. Gustavo had married her. Enrique had finished a close second with her sister, Car- mencita; he had called so frequently at the Garcia home that it was a natural and almost painless transition. Ten years later amanona galloping horse couldn’t have chosen between the two sisters; both of them fat, brown, smiling, and placidly swamped in babies. But it was a fair sample of Enrique’s form. Shortly before their marriages, the two men applied for jobs with a big construction com- pany. Both of them were hired, Gustavo as a petty foreman. His wages were practically the same as Enrique’s, and he shoveled his tons of dirt beside him. He was no stronger or better workman. But someone had to be put over the crew, and the big boss’ eye had lighted on him first. One year on the national holiday there had been an extra grand fiesta in the settlement, with its crowning thrill a free car for the holder of the lucky ticket. It had been Gus- tavo who had held the ticket; in Enrique's hand was the next number below. Ay Dios: there were times when Enrique rubbed his head and scowled in profound disgust and unhappiness. He would not have minded so much if it had not always been his tantalizing misfortune to come so close to success. Or if Gustavo had been smarter, bolder, more capable than himself. But there was no difference between them. Gustavo did nothing to achieve his triumphs; it was simply his incredible good luck. And it had stayed with him. Side by side they lived in two little adobe houses, and scarcely a week passed that there was not some trifling evidence of it. There was no bad feeling between them — indeed, they were sociable neighbors. But to save his soul, Enrique could not help wearying of Gustavo's endless talk about his buena suerte. His calm assumptions he would win at this, he would be sure to have that — and his jaunty satis- faction when he did. If only once Enrique might get the best of him, he felt he could endure Gustavo's good luck more cheerfully. When the American merchants of the city published the announcement in one of the daily papers about the gifts for the New Year baby, Enrique first heard the news with a flash of temporary aspiration. A new crib from one furniture company, a go-cart from another, a handsome layette from a depart- ment store, a month's supply of groceries for the family — it was an imposing list including numerous cash awards. And all to be given to the first child born in the new year. ~ Carmencita drummed the months off on her fingers and gazed at Enrique in thrilled -+ . It counld be! With the most THE rivalry between Enrique and Gus- THIS WEEK Gustaros L.Uck ever ‘Deserted Him. (fiMfikW%?fifl%m With the Stork? A Humorous Short Short Story 4 L N\ Hlustration by J. Ushler reasonable probability, it could be. To be sure, she added ci y, there were plenty of other families with similar prospects, dark horses in a manner of speaking, including Gustavo and Isovel next door. . . . “‘Mother of God!" Enrique conceded his defeat stoically, *if Gustavo has a chance to have his baby first, he will.” It was shortly after they had gone to bed onNew Year's Eve that Carmencita awakened Enrique, and sent him post-haste for old Maria, the nearest midwife. As she lighted the lamp, she peeped out at the house next door. Nobody was stirring over there; the place.waa wyapped in darkness. Jesus Maria! she sighed n mingled discomfort and satis- faction, this time Enrique would win. At ten o’clock Enrique arrived with Maria, and from then on things were stirring ebulli- ently and continuously in the adobe shack. In the midst of it came a pandemonium of horns, bells, whistles, wild whoops and shouts. The racket had hardly subsided to a muffied din when a fresh voice rose in the celebration. *Uh-lah! Uh-lah!” It split the air squallingly, vigorously — the New Year baby! Enrique looked at the battered clock, As Enrique blew out the lamp, he glanced across the side lot and his gaze froze. Lights in Gustavo’s home, a woman's shadow moving across the curtains. He raised the window and listened tensely. . . . And he heard it. Gustavo had a New Year baby too. But it couldn't have been born first, Car- mencita insisted stubbornly. The house was pitch dark when he had gone for Maria. And Enrique must claim the awards for his son. Gustavo and Enrique arrived neck-: neck at the newspaper office the next morning. The editor retreated before the heated argu- ment in Spanish embellished with eloquent gestures. Two contestants was a problem too Introducing a Writer of <Mexican Stories For more than twenty years Anna Brand lived on the Mexican border and came to know and love the Mexican people, of whom she writes so humorously. “Ever since I saw them,” she says, “they have kept me disturbed.” The story on this page is Anna Brand at her best. Another, “THE CASE OF GASPAR,” will appear soon. 11 Enrique Looked at His Ticket — One Number Below the Winner delicately involved for a newspaper man to “We'd better send for Padre Morales,” con- cluded the harried registrar. * y's got to make a decision, and"they'll take it “And when was your baby born?" He looked at Enrique. B “At ten minutes past twelve, Padre.” He turned to Gustavo. ‘“‘And you are sure your baby was born before this?"’ “Absolutamente, he was!" The padre sighed. Gustavo would not lie, that much he knew. Still he rubbed his chin reflectively; there was more than one way to tell the truth. “And how much before?” he inquired abruptly. Gustavo looked at the floor. “Fifteen minutes,” he admitted at last.