He hadn't missed a fly yet. For over an hour he sat there, switching this way and that. Like a cow's tail in the hot afternoon sun. He finally spoke, "caffeine and nicotine, no mas no menos" were his odd words. Beads of El Lago sweat formed upon his brow. Waiting for the right time to begin, he knew not what to expect only how it would start. His little town of El Lago had grown up when he agreed to let them use it, now he just waited upon his porch; aging, not growing. Damn flies were beginning to bother him, damn flies...damn wait. "Perhaps mas," he muttered to himself as the sweet Salome shimmered her way across the road. Dust, breathing at her step upon the dirt path. "Bring some'a that here mi amor," he slurred in her direction. Only to be responded to with but one of her slender, sultry fingers..."Perhaps menos."

"WHACK!!" With reflexes only the flies could admire, he killed another.

For over an hour the stranger sat there. Watching the sweat bead up and fall off the old man's face. The sweat seemed to keep time with a clock, each bead an interminable second. He hadn't been told what he was in El Lago for. Just to find the old man and wait. The odd location, the town in the middle of the badlands. The oppressive heat, his friends knew how much he hated the heat. The immediacy of leaving after a single phone call at 3 a.m. Why had they sent him here? As the thought crept into his mind amongst all the thoughts of the heat, he began to worry. Had they found out, did they know?

The distinct sound of the old man's battered Zippo being lit brought the stranger out of his nervous trance. Flashing in the setting sun of the horizon his Zippo made its way to his pocket after it had singed his Lucky to burn. He played his solitaire hand to silence and the stranger waited, a bit shaky from the caffeine and hours of waiting.

"So...do you want to know?" Blew through his smoke and engulfed the strangers brow. Do you want to know why you are here? I will tell you& " Followed by silence...Was the old man waiting for the stranger? The stranger decided to wait no more...

"What?" Wow, had the complexity of thought come of as gracefully as the inquiry had in his head. "Why?"

"De'Chips Man...El Lago..."

"The Chips?" The strangers immediate interjection silenced his further reply.

The twinkle in his eye was difficult to discern as anticipation or annoyance. The stranger took it for the latter, and offered his immediate apology. The old man waved it off, with his cigarette.

You here, because I say so. His hand coiled back to his mouth for another puff. Like a scorpion whose dark corner had been disturbed.

Your boss asked me dis favor. Fortunately for him, you being here works out for me pendejo.

He drew the last word out to give its full intended meaning. The stranger knew he was only alive at the old mans favor. He could tell that his being there gave the old man a sense of empowerment. The old man enjoyed knowing something the big city stranger did not. What the hell are the chips? he wondered. Obviously the heat and his reason for being there were no longer of any importance. The only thing he knew about this scrub brush oasis, was that it was a four hour drive from the nearest town. That town at least had pavement, a restaurant, and a stop sign. This place had some chips? In his fervent wondering the stranger had not noticed Salome approach with drinks. The smell of the drinks curled up the hair on the back of the stranger's neck. She was gone without a word before the stranger could thank her. He turned to the old man to find him watching Salome's every twitch under her thin cotton dress.

Fer now, we drink. Tomorrow Ill show you. With that the old man raised his glass to toast. Salud, guero.

With the clink of their glasses, they drank. Still not talking, only smoking and drinking until well after the sunset. Without a word the old man got up and walked away. Leaving the stranger to wonder about tomorrow, and where he would sleep that night.

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