Bab 92: Ancient Cowboy Spirits

Benedito Goncalo Cruz Pereira 

I knew we were lost. It did not take a genius to see that Bobby's compass was not working probably. Constantly we would have to stop at the side of the road for him to pretend to know how to read the map then reassure me that we were right on track. 

At a point I stopped complaining and just let him do what he wanted. It was not like I was in a rush to go anywhere. Bobby was the type of man you just had to let him do what he wanted, fail then pretend like it was never his idea to begin with. 

"Dito, if you could stop staring that would help greatly. I can't concentrate," he puffed. 

"I don't think me staring is affecting why we're lost," I smiled. 

He scoffed, sucked on his two front teeth then quickly glanced at me, "it's not my fault the compass isn't calibrating. If it wasn't for it we would have arrived a long time ago."

"Ah, I see," I nodded.