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many times in the side. Blood filling the tank like smoke. The American and the shark were lost in an awkward dance with the sharks tail pressed against the glass wall at the bottom of the tank when it was killed. Finally the blond American came from the tank to the yelling. He put his fists in the air. The blood washing clean from him. I left the tent as the organ grinder and the two colorfully dressed young men pushed the tank back to the shadows to the applause of small children.
    By dawn the circus had moved from Topolobampo over difficult roads to some other city. I woke with the first of the sun and wandered to the vacant lot were the tent had been. My stomach empty and the smell of still water nearby made me feel like I was to be sick. In the bright sunlight of that morning a haggard old woman went through trash left behind by the circus. Down near the water the shark lay in a curled heap. Dogs had torn into its sides during the night. Pushing it until its tail was in its own mouth. The teeth missing strangely.
    He took them before the fight. The old woman said when she came to me standing over the shark. He drops the knife on purpose. She said. To make it more exciting.
    I stood quiet for some time looking at the shark with its tail tucked into its useless jaws. Flies swarmed above the gums frayed like blood soaked rag ends. But when I turned to ask the old woman how the American removed the teeth while the shark was still alive she was already gone.
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    I n early August of 1946 I was nineteen years old when I crossed the Sea of Cortés to work on the hotel in Canción. The ferry was heavy with workingmen. Wandering men dangerous and wanted but nervous when the land disappeared and there was only sea. On the rolling deck the workingmen sat in the warmth of the sun. Smoking cigarettes and tossing the ends into the painted blue water. They drank warm beer and handed each other tortillas wrapped around beans. Chunks of musky goat cheese if they had enough money. Tearing jerked meat with their teeth and dirty hands. Some to pass the eight hour journey more comfortably brought sombreros and straw hats over their eyes low and concentrated on the sound of the water against the ferry until they slept. Several men hunched over the railing admiring silver fish that leaped over the waves like skipping coins.
    At first the women stayed below from the drinking violent men. A child came running up the stairs and across the deck laughing knowing what would occur if he were caught but then disappeared into the black door leading down again grinning. Husbands came above to talk of the hotel with soft faced young men wanting wives of their own but who were never settled and always traveling for work. Some of these men young husbands themselves disappointed after leaving behind wives and children.
    When the shore of Topolobampo disappeared from sight a drunk stumbled to the railing and vomited many times into the clear water. One man handed this man wine so that he would have more than bile to vomit but the warm wine only made him more drunk and more sick and soon he was unconscious in the hot sun with his face pressed to the cool of the metal deck. I chose to watch as several men dragged this drunk by his ankles into the shade. On his back they dealt playing cards and laughed telling stories about this mans past as if he were not there.
    After several hours when most of the workingmen slept drunk the women came to sit on the deck in circles with pretty young girls protected between them. Their faces sweaty from the heat below. The girls braided each others long dark hair. Whispered behind cupped hands when they noticed the workingmen staring at them. The mothers huddled in the shade of the cabin while the husbands played with the children scolding them to keep their voices down. To not wake these terrible men.
    By noon the leaping fish had gone. Sunk like coins. Few on the deck besides children were awake to watch the passage.