Zarate more than agrees. He very much would like to fight his friend, but not, he says strongly, in a non-title bout. "I like him, but we should settle this business of two championships. It is stupid to talk of a non-title fight. No matter what they called it, one must win and one must lose. We both would walk away as champions but only one would walk away a winner."
Dusk was descending upon Zarco Street. Hours earlier Consenito Gonzalez had finished his workout. The undefeated southpaw left the gym with a grin, saying something about an appointment at a showroom to look at a new Mustang. As night began to fall, little Pepe stirred beneath his cardboard lean-to. All of the oranges remained, still neatly in a row at his feet. A tourist crossed the street and looked down at the child.
"Oranges, se�or?" Pepe said.
The tourist asked a Mexican friend to tell Pepe in Spanish that he hoped someday the boy would cross the street, climb those three flights of stairs to the gym and buy a red Mustang Cobra II.
Pepe didn't understand. "Oranges, se�or?" he said again.
Night came, bringing with it a welcome coolness.