Dancing Aztecs Read Online Free PDF

real one. And then the real one will be shipped out to New York with all those other copies, and the museum will pay the money, and we will all become rich.”
    â€œHow rich?”
    â€œMillions of peserinas.”
    â€œHow much in U.S. dollars?”
    â€œHundreds,” José said. “Maybe even thousands.”
    Pedro nodded; at last they’d said something he could understand. Then he said, “But why do all this pretending and chasing thieves that don’t exist? Why not just put the copy in the museum and send the real one to New York without all this play-acting?”
    â€œIt’s psychological,” José said, and frowned doubtfully at Pedro.
    Edwardo said, “Maybe I can explain it.”
    José looked at him in surprise. “Do you really think so?”
    â€œI can but try.” Edwardo placed both forearms on the table and looked severely at Pedro. “Pedro,” he said.
    Pedro sat at attention.
    â€œNext year, or two years from now,” Edwardo said, “the museum in New York will announce that they have the Dancing Aztec Priest. If we did not do this pretense tonight, the government would study the imitation in our own museum, would see that it was a fake, and they would ask the question, ‘Who has had his hands on the Dancing Aztec Priest?’ And they would remember José, and you, and me.”
    Pedro nodded. “And they would come hang us by our tongues,” he said.
    â€œThat’s one of the possibilities.” Edwardo held up his hand like a traffic cop. “But hold,” he said. “Tonight, we establish that there are other thieves, that we are honest men who have saved the Dancing Aztec Priest. Tonight, we prove that someone else is stealing the Dancing Aztec Priest.”
    Pedro’s brows lowered so heavily over his eyes that he could barely see. “I don’t understand that part,” he said. “I never understand that part.”
    Edwardo said, “Pedro, you must trust us. We are both educated men, José and I, and we do understand that part.”
    José said, “Pedro, all you have to do is tell everybody that a big car like a jeep came here with foreign men in it who shouted that they wanted the Dancing Aztec Priest, and you shot your pistol at them, and they ran away.”
    â€œI have never shot my pistol,” Pedro said.
    â€œWouldn’t you like to?” José asked him.
    For years Pedro had wanted nothing more than to shoot his pistol, but he wasn’t about to make such an admission. “They’ll make me pay for the bullets,” he said.
    José and Edwardo both laughed, and Edwardo said, “For saving our famous national statue? Pedro, they’ll give you a medal!”
    â€œA medal,” Pedro said, grinning scornfully. “Now I know you’re joking.”
    Edwardo reached out to pat Pedro’s arm. “You listen to me, Pedro,” he said. “You’re going to be a Hero. You’re going to get a medal.”
    José said, “And the time for us to start is right now.”
    Becoming immediately businesslike, Edwardo got up from the table, saying, “Yes, you’re right. No point waiting any longer.”
    Pedro blinked at the both of them. “Now? So soon?”
    â€œWe’ll do it and get it over with,” José told him.
    Pedro said, “Why don’t we have a drink first?” He gestured at José’s jug of gluppe, the national drink of Descalzo, fermented from rotting yam skins and lima-bean stalks.
    But Edwardo said, “No drinking, not till it’s all over. Come on, let’s get started.”
    â€œI don’t think I’m quite ready,” Pedro said, trying to sound calm, but Edwardo had already turned toward the window and had suddenly started shouting:
    â€œHi! Help! Yay, help, thieves! Murderers and assassins!”
    â€œOh, no,” said Pedro.
    José was also standing now,