A Medicine for Melancholy and Other Stories by Ray Bradbury Read Free Book Online

of the lapels of that wonderful ice-cream suit.
    â€œLet go of Vamenos!” said Martínez.
    â€œLet go that suit! ” corrected Gómez.
    Toro Ruíz, tap-dancing Vamenos, leered at these intruders.
    Villanazul stepped up shyly.
    Villanazul smiled. “Don’t hit him. Hit me.”
    Toro Ruíz hit Villanazul smack on the nose.
    Villanazul, holding his nose, tears stinging his eyes, wandered off.
    Gómez grabbed one of Toro Ruíz’s arms, Martínez the other. “Drop him, let go, cabrón, coyote, vaca! ”
    Toro Ruíz twisted the ice cream suit material until all six men screamed in mortal agony. Grunting, sweating, Toro Ruíz dislodged as many as climbed on. He was winding up to hit Vamenos when Villanazul wandered back, eyes streaming.
    â€œDon’t hit him. Hit me!”
    As Toro Ruíz hit Villanazul on the nose, a chair crashed on Toro’s head.
    â€œ Ai! ” said Gómez.
    Toro Ruíz swayed, blinking, debating whether to fall. He began to drag Vamenos with him.
    â€œLet go!” cried Gómez. “Let go!”
    One by one, with great care, Toro Ruíz’s banana-like fingers let loose of the suit. A moment later he was in ruins at their feet.
    â€œ Compadres , this way!”
    They ran Vamenos outside and set him down where he freed himself of their hands with injured dignity.
    â€œOkay, okay. My time ain’t up. I still got two minutes and, let’s see—ten seconds.”
    â€œWhat!” said everybody.
    â€œVamenos,” said Gómez, “you let a Guadalajara cow climb on you, you pick fights, you smoke, you drink, you eat tacos, and now you have the nerve to say your time ain’t up?”
    â€œI got two minutes and one second left!”
    â€œHey, Vamenos, you sure look sharp!” Distantly, a woman’s voice called from across the street.
    Vamenos smiled and buttoned the coat.
    â€œIt’s Ramona Álvarez! Ramona, wait!” Vamenos stepped off the curb.
    â€œVamenos,” pleaded Gómez. “What can you do in one minute and”—he checked his watch—“forty seconds!”
    â€œWatch! Hey, Ramona!”
    Vamenos loped.
    â€œVamenos, look out!”
    Vamenos, surprised, whirled, saw a car, heard the shriek of brakes.
    â€œNo,” said all five men on the sidewalk.
    Martínez heard the impact and flinched. His head moved up. It looks like white laundry, he thought, flying through the air. His head came down.
    Now he heard himself and each of the men make a different sound. Some swallowed too much air. Some let it out. Some choked. Some groaned. Some cried aloud for justice. Some covered their faces. Martínez felt his own fist pounding his heart in agony. He could not move his feet.
    â€œI don’t want to live,” said Gómez quietly. “Kill me, someone.”
    Then, shuffling, Martínez looked down and told his feet to walk, stagger, follow one after the other. He collided with other men. Now they were trying to run. They ran at last and somehow crossed a street like a deep river through which they could only wade, to look down at Vamenos.
    â€œVamenos!” said Martínez. “You’re alive!”
    Strewn on his back, mouth open, eyes squeezed tight, tight, Vamenos motioned his head back and forth, back and forth, moaning.
    â€œTell me, tell me, oh, tell me, tell me.”
    â€œTell you what, Vamenos?”
    Vamenos clenched his fists, ground his teeth.
    â€œThe suit, what have I done to the suit, the suit, the suit!”
    The men crouched lower.
    â€œVamenos, it’s … why, it’s okay! ”
    â€œYou lie!” said Vamenos. “It’s torn, it must be, it must be, it’s torn, all around, underneath? ”
    â€œNo.” Martínez knelt and touched here and there. “Vamenos, all around, underneath even, it’s okay!”
    Vamenos opened his eyes to let the tears run free at last. “A