Dude, wake up, we’ve gotta go.

Unh?

Hear that horn? Yeah. That incessant fucking blaring noise. That’s the bus, we’ve gotta go. Only one out today.

Just need a minute.

We don’t have a minute, man. We have – to – go – whoah, your eyes are as big as saucers man. What did you do last night?

Hahaha.

You look like that dude from Limp Bizkit. Are you still in your shirt from yesterday? Jesus.

Will you guys shut up, please, other people are trying to sleep!

It’s a hostel, grandma. No one stays in these places for sleep. You want sleep try the Country Inn and Suites.

Oiga, señores, vamos ya!

Un minuto! Gavin, c’mon! Seriously. If we don’t make this bus we’re screwed. Wipe the drool off your face, there ya go.  Got a little crustiness happening up in the corner there too.

A lazy tongue swabbed at the mess.

Yeah, okay, that looks like it might be permanent. Ok, up out of bed, that’s it. Oh, you’re not wearing any underwear. Nice…

Hahaha.

Put these jeans on. Whoah. Careful. Lean on my shoulder.

Owww.

Shit. That was my bad. You alright? Here, take my hand. Now - Right leg. Left leg. Good boy.

Señores!

Coming! Christ! Cristo! You can put the shirt on while we walk. This your bag?

Nnnnhhhmmmm.

Well, it is now.

Estamos muy tarde y ya tenemos muchas personas recoger!

re-coger this

Here’s a couple extra pesos for your time. Can you help him up, please. Muchisimas gracias.

What’s wrong with this man?

Muy enfermo. Ayudale, por favor.

He looks like that guy from Limp Bizkit.

Hahahaha.

Should I put the bags in back?

The bus was loaded and Eric boarded, making his way down the aisle, the focus of a dozen angry stares. Someone whistled and the bus jerked into gear, spilling Eric into the seat next to Gavin, whose head was tilted backward, eyes staring vacantly at the roof above him. As the sun rose over Petén Itzá the island of Flores disappeared behind them.

What happened to him, asked one of the Israelis

I have no idea…”

He is covered in dirt and mud-

That’s bat shit, I think, actually.

...and blood.

We went to these caves yesterday.

Aktun Han?

Yeah. And got a little lost.

It’s a guided tour.

Yeah, we opted for the non-guided option. I don’t know. It was slick as shit and there were bats and we got crazy lost.

That sounds fantastic.

I don’t think the search party they sent for us found it quite so fantastic.

Shit, search party? Why does he look so stoned?

Still trying to work that one out for myself, actually.

His pants are unbuttoned.

Ah, that’s…

And he doesn’t seem to be wearing any underwear.

Disgusting. I guess I should…

Yes, you should…

Eric had his hands to Gavin’s crotch when the Swedish girl from Los Amigos approached.

Anyone sitting…oh that is so gross.

Eric hung his head. Chris smiled broadly.

Nice one captain cock block.

Unnnnnhhhh.

The road from Flores to the Belize / Guatemala border was rough at best – six hours of constant bumping, rocking, and jerking along a muddy, dusty, windy, and cattle-trodden road, six hours of which Gavin slept through completely, his life size bobble head jerking and spinning as if on a swivel, occasional accompanied by a snap, crackle or pop that made Eric worry for his safety. He took some spare clothes from his bag and was attempting awkwardly to dress his inanimate friend when the bus came to a groaning halt. He looked up through the rising dust and recognized the familiar signs of a border crossing – gawkers, hawkers, money changers and prostitutes.

As if getting one last lay in some filthy nowhere before going through customs as foremost on every foreigners mind. Honestly? Here?

Amigo – Quetzales?

No, gracias.

Doláres?

No.

Ocho por dolár.

No!

Y viene con chicle.

No, por dios! Wait, chicle? Dale, dale.

Pleasure doing business with you. Alright G. Come on. Get up. For real. Am I gonna have to carry you? I guess that’s yes. This feels like Weekend at Bernie’s. Here chew this. Your breath smells like a diaper. I’m gonna call you yuck mouth.

He maneuvered Gavin into a sort of Fireman’s carry and dragged him down and out of the bus, heaving and grunting and gasping for breathe as he nudged him with a shoulder against the side of the bus. Now just…stay! Stay! I gotta figure this out. And you need to snap out of it. Snap, snap. You there?

“Heyyyyyy!”

Almost. Here, drink this. He forced some water down Gavin’s throat. Man, how’m I gonna get you through customs like this?

Hey fellas!

Hey Roy.

Whew – he’s not looking too fresh. Smells like a moldy arepa too. That someone pissed on. You fellas must’ve had a wild night.

Sadly I did not partake.

Hey it’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’ve all been there. I remember this one time in Saltillo –

Roy -

- I bought some black market pills off these back alley vendedores -

Roy this isn’t really -

- I don’t know what was in those things but, whew! Gat damn! I remember very little. There was a donkey show, I am certain of that. Have you seen this shit?

No, Roy, I have not seen a donkey show. And aren’t you a little too old to -

- I tell you what, it sounds disgusting, I know, but you just can’t take your eyes off it. It must feel like giving birth, but you know, in reverse.

Look Roy – right now I could give a shit about you and your stories. I gotta figure out a way to get this guy through customs.

Well why didn’t you say so. No need to get testy. I’ve got just the thing. Roy took out a pocket mirror and procured a pinch of white powder. Let’s just give him a little nummy. Here, hold up his lip.

Jesus Roy! You’re taking that stuff through customs?

Ah hell, It’s Guatemala, they don’t care. Hell, that one over there’s the one that sold it to me on my way in. Or someone looked like her anyway. Fat. Now come on, you wanna get your amigo to march you need a little marching powder, know what I mean?

Eric sighed. I am so against this.

There you go, just like an ape.

Mmmmmmmnnnn…

Rub it in there real good.

Eric prolonged their passage through customs as long as the impatient bus driver would allow, inventing errands to run and bathroom breaks. But eventually, it came time to stand before the judge, which just happened to be right when Gavin showed signs of coherence.

Wherearewe?

Border, man.

Getmypassport.

First sensible thing I’ve heard you say in a while. Where is it?

Pocket.

Eric began to unzip compartments of Gavin’s bag. No, pocket! Gavin tapped his pants pocket.

For real dude? Get it yourself.

I need you. Another sigh. Eric made sure the coast was clear and dug into Gavin’s pants and pulled out the passport.

Seriously. You owe me for this one. Big time.

Next please.

Buenas tardes.

When the official looked the duo over, her expression was one devoid of surprise, as if she’d seen all this before an hour prior. Gavin, covered in bat shit and blood, foaming at the mouth holding out an unsteady passport in the general direction of the customs agent. There were the usual battery of questions.

Where have you been traveling? To the bowels of hell. Flores. Tikal. Are you carrying more than ten thousand dollars in valuables. Does it look like it? No m’am. Do you have in your possession anything that could be considered harmful or illegal? Where do I start?. No. The customs agent furrowed her brow, and then stamped Gavin’s passport.

Y Usted. Again the brow, as she reviewed Eric’s documentation.

Where is your entry stamp?

They told me -

You need an entry stamp. I have to ask you to step aside.

But I -

To the left please.

Hahahaha.

Shut up Gavin, seriously. The customs agent motioned to a uniformed officer behind a desk in one of the adjacent offices.  Ah…christ. We’re fucked. You happy now? Ever seen locked up abroad? Because you’re about to be a part of it.

Suddenly there was some commotion from the other window. Avi, the Israeli, fuming. No! We already pay for these stamp!

You must pay when you exit.

No! You are criminals! All of you. I will not pay another cent!

Sir I’m going to have to ask you to -

You will ask me nothing more. There was a grappling over the passport, which Avi eventually wrangled from the agent’s grasp.

Security!

All eyes turned to the drama. God bless the jews. Well buddy, here’s our opportunity. Move along. Straight ahead. No, don’t look back.

What -

Not important.

Passport.

I’ve got it don’t worry. The long walk toward the end of customs hall seemed to last an eternity, but as they emerged back into the scorching midday sun, Eric breathed a sigh of relief. He cuffed Gavin hard on the shoulder. Whew! Haha!

Hahahaha.

We made it buddy!

Yeah.

Ahhh, god. I feel so relieved. Don’t ever do that to me again. Please.

Passport.

Yeah yeah I got it.

Passport.

Alright, alright. I got it. Hands deep into Gavin’s pockets as he stood behind, and again the Swede passed, rolling her eyes.

Honestly? Get a room.

Unbelievable. Unbelievable! You’re an asshole.

Hahahaha.

You know I’m not traveling with you any more after this. Seriously, you and I are done.

Then why are your hands still in my pockets?