DRIVING DROWSY. Second part.

CHAPTER TWO

   I think I fell into a light sleep. I wish I slept deeply any time.
They were talking all the way, I was laid down quiet behind. I recall a faithful dog dozing between the two seat ranks. It was Luis´s dog, Joachim´s Argentinian friend, a medium-sized, light red-haired dog, I felt relieved because of this unexpected guardian,
   Then I listened to Joachim announcing that we were passing by Leon. I had to imagine its famous cathedral. When opening my eyes I sat up a little to stretched my neck out to look up through the windows, at both sides. I could not see any thing. It was pitch dark.

   Joachim was very talkative. And Luis took for granted that the interesting conversation would help to keep him awake and fresh.

   Then he asked Joakim to roll a joint to him. It was later than two in the morning. I sat up forward to look at him in amazement. I noticed then that his eyes were coming red in the middle of his brown-green face and that its skin was likely to be plenty of tattoos because that area of skin he had uncovered was black and blue. Then I realized that I should not have never trusted a single man of more than thirty-two who was a mix between a rastafarian and a yogi. A man who had dared pop up once, years before that moment, out of the sea, wearing a red brazilian tanga before my very eyes. Such a nasty loincloth, in a european beach, had never been seen before, by me and any of my eyes with in any case.  
   Now is time to me to say the truth. I must be honest. It had been me who introduced Luis to Joachim. Although I had never smoked weed in my life I must be naturally bound for disgrace and  misery any way. I have to confess I knew him.  He was the kind of man that had traveled around the world, with no other tool than a wide white grin, from India to new Zealand, from Brazil to California, from Russia to Iraq, speaking English, just three words. ¨You´re my brother.¨ Just all or very little more maybe. He had worked as a cowboy in Brazil and California. Then he won enough money to travel through India. There, in Goa he had been a beggar, The following year he had learned the pure tattoos technique from Maoris in Northland. Luis had survived poverty, famine, illness, even bad companions, just by casting this spell on people ¨peace brother¨. But despite being in awe of him I was with eyes wide open too. And in that moment I remember wondering if he would be going to, be able too, to survive the eventual car accident we three were about to suffer.

 _ May I inquire both of you what money did you paid for that shit with? _ I said._ Didn´t you said that we had no money left to change the back wheel tyres too?_ I asked.
_ Don´t worry. Be happy._ That was Luis answer.
   He had that sense of music and life together. He had learned to speak English by learning some rastafarian songs by heart.

   Then Joachim asked me not to disturb them with bad energies while starting to roll another joint, this time for him to smoke.