B’s father gets up and goes out the back. The waiter, by contrast, is wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and doesn’t seem bothered by the heat.

Father and son have unbuttoned their shirts and rolled up their sleeves. He approaches the open-air eating area-four tables under a canvas awning that is swaying slightly in the breeze-and sits down at the table farthest from the highway. Without waiting for an answer, B’s father orders a portion of iguana for himself and one for his son. B leans against the mudguard of the Mustang, watching him. The iguanas are alive and they hardly move when B’s father goes over to look at them. B, who is inclined to melancholy (or so he likes to think), is at first completely absorbed in contemplating the landscape, but after a few hours the mountains and forests become monotonous and he starts reading a book instead.īefore they get to Acapulco, B’s father pulls up in front of a roadside café. Driving out of the city, both father and son feel cold, but as they leave the high valley behind and descend into the state of Guerrero the temperature climbs and they have to take off their sweaters and roll down the windows. The city is Mexico City, and the year in which B and his father leave Mexico City for a short vacation is 1975. At six-thirty, they get into the car and head out of the city. B says hello to his father and goes into the bathroom. When he comes out of his room, his father is sitting at the table, reading the sports section from the day before, and breakfast is ready. He gets dressed without switching on the light. He looks out the window it is still dark. He doesn’t dream, or, if he does, he forgets his dreams as soon as he opens his eyes. B spends the night at his father’s house. They are planning to leave very early, at six in the morning.

This is the situation: B and his father are going on vacation to Acapulco.

Bolano last evenings on earth