Marcos hastily explains the virtues of what he carries in his leather bag and the kerchief bundle. He has four cheeses. Well, three and a half. Three and a half that would be five if he hadn’t eaten half during the journey and if the hooded bastard hadn’t robbed him in the middle of the forest.
Well, besides the three cheeses, Marcos has two small bottles of medicinal oil, two small bottles of arnica tincture, two small jars of herbal cream, two small jars of chamomile cream, one small bottle of hyssop syrup, a small bag of gangrene herb, a bag of rock tea, and various original seeds of flowers, plants, and vegetables.
“I can’t do anything with this,” says the pharmacist with a cold, distant expression.
“But this cheese is very good!”
“They already make cheese here in the town.”
“And the oils?”
“Oils? If they were any good, would you be here?”
“And the seeds? These are original seeds! They’re not genetically modified, it took us years to gather such a variety! They yield natural fruit and produce seeds when they germinate!”
The pharmacist doesn’t even respond. Marcos becomes desperate.
“I’m giving you everything! How many people have offered you all they have?”
“It’s not about that. You have to understand, boy. Imagine I give you the box in exchange for... all this, and tomorrow someone offers me... I don’t know! Solar panels, or copper, or... something of real value. Look,” he says while closing the door behind him. “We can’t make a deal with what you have.”
“You can’t do this to me!” Marcos shouts.
The pharmacist looks at him mockingly and starts walking down the street.
“I’ll work for you!”
The pharmacist stops and looks at him.
“I’ll work for you! As long as it takes,” Marcos insists.
“That at least makes some sense. What can you do?”
“I’m strong. I can work from dawn to dusk.”
“You’re a farmer. You must know how to use a pick and a shovel, right?” he says disdainfully.
Marcos feels relieved. He can get the medicine for Juli. He gathers his backpack and packs his things.
“Yes! As many hours as needed.”
The pharmacist says a ditch needs to be dug, that there are already people working on it, but it’s a two-kilometer-long ditch, and it’s urgent to get it done. The sooner it’s finished, the better. The pharmacist points to the cheerful man he referred to as the warden and says he’ll provide the tools and show Marcos where to work. Marcos is very grateful. For a moment, he thought he wouldn’t be able to get the medicine. Marcos extends his hand to the pharmacist to seal the deal.
“I’ll be back in a week at most.”
The pharmacist doesn’t move to shake his hand and looks at him disdainfully.
“That’s up to you. The sooner you finish the job, the sooner you’ll get paid.”
The world crashes down on him. It can’t be! He needs the medicine now! Juli is at home suffering! Very nervously, Marcos grabs the pharmacist by the jacket.
“I need it now!”
The pharmacist brusquely pushes his hands away, looks at him with anger and chilling coldness, and snaps:
“I give you the medicine in advance, and you’ll come back to work... Sure...”
“Yes!” Marcos shouts, desperate.
“Who do you think I am, you fucking idiot?”
He turns and leaves. A wave of anger rises in Marcos, who instinctively wants to run and throw himself at him. A strong arm, however, grabs him and squeezes his neck tightly while pulling him back. Marcos feels the coldness of metal on his neck. The friendly man from the garden, the overseer, presses a knife against Marcos’s neck while holding one of his arms immobile.
“You’d better head towards the town exit.”
The anger fades. A cold sweat runs down Marcos’s body.
