Crab Orchard Review, Vol. 15, No. 1

Tabaré Alvareza discovery, and leave, saying he had to present his findings. She wouldstay at the lab, and a Santiago bank would send her her wages. It could bearranged. She would explore the valley, collecting samples and mailingthem to him; he would make sure they were never returned, even afterhe died. She was young; she could watch the valley, the bamboo, andperhaps even be there when the next generation flowered.He settled on this scheme as he walked, not liking the deceit but notminding it very much either. He liked the idea of doing something—ofdoing something for her, of having her inherit the house of DoctorBambú.That evening, in preparation for the alderman’s Friday visit, theold man arranged on the worktable outside some of the flower, culm,leaf, and root samples of the common bamboo plants he had identifiedin the valley over the past year, twelve of them, and fresh flowersamples of the unidentified pale bamboo.He made coffee, poured it into a metal pot kept over the fire, andfilled the percolator again. Over the months the number of his visitorshad dwindled, so that it was often only the alderman and the girl, buttoday, with the flowering, he was expecting a group almost as large asthat which had greeted him the first week, maybe twenty-five or thirtypeople. He only had six cups, so he took some fallen bamboo culms,Chusquea andina, and with a machete cut them just below each node,so that the node’s diaphragm served as the cup’s bottom and liquidcould be poured into the exposed hollow. If he aimed too high, a cupcame out bottomless or the machete became stuck in the node; if heaimed too low, a cup came out too short, barely a cup at all. Whenhe had thirty cups, he stopped, and he found that he wasn’t as out ofbreath as he would have expected.He went to the front of the house, brought out the charcoal brazierfrom his bedroom and placed it on the porch, blew on the live coals,got the metal pot with the coffee from the kitchen, and set it on thebrazier. Then he made several trips to the back until he had all the newbamboo cups on the porch.“All right,” he said. “Please, sit here.” He pointed to the porch step.“When the others come, offer them coffee.”She looked at him. “Maybe you should lie down.”“I’m okay,” he said, smiling.The visit was for the old man a performance, and he gave himselfto it fully. Once the twenty-six villagers who came with the aldermanhad sat down in the chairs they had brought and all held cups of coffee10 u Crab Orchard Review