09.1 Crossroads

On Friday, third May, they left Rosario. Adriana stood there carrying the child on one hip and the two ladies kissed them goodbye.

“Once we come out of Santa Fe, I’ll not know where we are going. I have GPS but I still can’t find my way. I have a pistol and a phone but I can’t use them. We are not going to sleep in a tent. We sleep in the car. It’s safe. Armour-plated bumpers and bulletproof glass. I will try my best to find a place in a village to rest and eat. That is if we could find a town. We are on dangerous roads and I have no idea how it looks like. Never been there but I know it leads all the way to the end of the world,” Madeleine Blanche explained tossing her arms while Marina steered the wheel.

“How far are we going?” asked Marina.

“A long…long…long way! We drive two hours and rest, then I take the wheel. I can ask around a good guy for some information. If we see touring vehicles, an expedition group, that is the kind of place to stop.”

“Aren’t the roads like this?”

“No, Mary!” cried Madeleine, “We are on Circunvalación heading north. These roads in Argentina are great, broad and modern. Somewhere it cedes. We must try to cover ten hours every day in driving.

“Let’s make it six! Stop the car!”

“Where?”

“There by the food vendor. How about a steak!” suggested Madeleine.

“Eat now!” quizzed Marina.

“Oh! I can eat from the garbage bin but first I must change.” She reached for the bag and pulled out a tiny red pair of denim shorts of sturdy fabric.

“Oh! Wow!” cried Marina, “It’s only four inches in width!”

“Yeah!” admitted Madeleine, “A kind of booty shorts, narrow, low-rise and snug on the hips. And a white tank top.”

“I will change too,” decided Marina.

Madeleine picked a blue pair of denim cut-off shorts and tossed in her lap, “Actually a super mini and not a high-waist.” She tucked her thumbs in the tapered pants and drew while seated in the passenger seat.

Marina released the door and stepped out to climb the rear. Madeleine teased as she changed, poking her eyes between the fingers and making her nervous. Madeleine’s pants on Marina’s waist zipped precisely leaving those cheeky bums on sale. A red plaid shirt knotted on the midriff.

Digging into street food, they ate and ate as much as they wished. Madeleine leaned on the vehicle to light a cigarette, shooting smoke upwards between puckered lips.

They stopped for lunch at Santa Fe and set on the road. Another five hours of driving on Route 34 through green pastures and flatland, they reached Malbrán at dusk. Madeleine resourcefully decided to sleep in the van and parked the car in a green field near a hut. They washed. Marina even shaved with a razor they bought in the supplies.

After dinner that night, they crawled in the narrow space beside their bags. Madeleine belched, chuckled and removed all her attires, “Are you comfortable?”

In response, Marina pulled off her shirt and got rid of the shorts while lying on the floorboard.

“You have spotless skin,” expressed Madeleine lingering over Marina and rubbing a hand on a bare shoulder; soft, moist and sticky. “And I like your shave!”

Marina smiled and nodded keeping her legs straight and composed in the confines of the cabin.

“Do you find me hairy? I haven’t shaved for ages.”

They grabbed each other and fondled in a kiss that came wet on Madeleine’s lips. A kiss of a fire arrow that cut across her heart.

In the morning, they sat on the tailgate drinking coffee and watching the sunrise over the grassland.

Marina uttered, “There is always beauty in halfway!”

As soon as they left Malbrán, a thunder storm slowed their progress. It was loud and wet. They could not see anything around. They continued slowly on a slippery surface. Roadside berms were dangerously collecting water. It took two hours to arrive at Icaño for lunch and couldn’t find a café in this village. All food posts were covered and vendors took shelter from the rain. There could be somebody under a tarp. Madeleine honked and someone popped a head. Eventually, they found a two-seater café across the lane and entered. Rain sprayed through the door into this narrow space.

They had juicy grilled steak in a kind of homemade marinade for lunch.

Afterwards, Madeleine sat by the door watching the rain patter and smoking.

“Hope this rain would stop!” Madeleine wished, “It does not rain like this. We must go to Santiago del Estero. It is a big city. I’ve been there many times. A great place particularly in the carnival season. They never stop dancing. Maybe all other villages between us are small like this. We cannot buy supplies.”

“When is the carnival season?” Marina asked with an empty can in her hand.

“February until March,” returned Madeleine.

“Is it over now?”

“It’s never over,” voiced Madeleine and released a mist of smoke in a stream, “Another festival or something Mayo would soon take place.”

It turned lot clear and they set on their journey. Took four hours to arrive at La Banda because they still could not drive fast.

“Well, we are in the town of La Banda,” said Madeleine, “the city of Santiago del Estero lies to the south of the river. We will stick here for the night. This city is great.”

“See!” pointed Marina, “That looks like a new hotel.”

“How about checking this place?”

They checked in at Vicente Hotel that stood by a corner in front of a children’s park. On the fourth floor, in the corner suite, facing the park, Madeleine collapsed on her back in the bed placed aligned to the full-length window on the cut-corner and her legs thrown.

“Hey!” cried Marina opening the fridge, “Nothing is in the minibar.”

Madeleine expressed, “I have run out of cigarettes. It is six in the evening. We still have a lot of time to kill. Shall we go for a short walk and buy some stuff?”

The sky cleared and the clouds strewn in a shiny glow. There were kioskos everywhere and Madeleine glanced at the newspapers. She picked a Buenos Aires Herald and discovered a photo of Marina.

“This is an attractive town and the sidewalks are neat!” observed Marina.

Madeleine pulled her off the road, “See this! Your story is on every paper. We must be cautious.”

They settled in a small café by a corner facing the park and a broad road a turn away from the hotel. They ordered bottled lager and six more cans of Imperial for the room.