“What?” said the captain again. He sounded angry. “What was that?”
But the Arabs did not answer. They looked at each other and then they shrugged. One of them grinned and rubbed his hand up and down on the crowbar.
“Goddamn this heat,” said the captain.
“Sirocco coming,” said the clerk.
They stood a moment longer while the captain said again that he had to be out of here by this night, but mostly there was the silence of heat everywhere on the pier. And whatever spoiled in the box there, spoiled a little bit more.
“Open it!” said the captain.
Chapter 2
Some of the crew did not care one way or the other, but a lot of them were on the bridge of the tramper, because from the port end of the bridge they had the best view of the pier. They could almost look straight down into the box, once it would be open.
The captain stayed where he was and the clerk stayed with him, away from the box. Just the two Arabs went near it now because they were to open it and did not seem to mind anything. The seaman who had thrown the lashings off the hook was now back by the warehouse wall where he smoked a cigarette with sharp little drags.
“They’re ruining it, including the good parts of the box,” said the captain.
“You wanted it open,” said the clerk.
The Arabs had to cut the bands first, which they did with the axe. Then they used the axe and the crowbar to pry up the top, which took time.
“Well-” said the captain.
“Let it air out a moment,” said the clerk.
They waited and watched the two Arabs drop the lid to the ground and then watched them looking into the box. They just looked and when they straightened up they looked at each other. One of them shrugged and the other one giggled.
Up on the bridge the men leaned but said nothing. Perhaps they could not see well enough or perhaps they could not understand.