by Brock Booher
Sergio ignored the dig and grinned. “Los mALditos with the capital A and L for Alianza Lima. I like it.” Sergio glanced at Raúl. “One hundred and fifty soles is a nice gesture, but the package your brother lost was worth twice that amount.” He pocketed the key chain. “You have two days to come up with rest, or your brother has to earn it some other way. Now get out of our house before we throw you back in hell.”
Julio opened his mouth to protest, but Turco folded his arms and glared. Sergio threw his tattooed arm around Raúl and pulled him toward the fire. “Hermanos, our chant leader Raúl ‘el Puma’ is back! Lead us in a chant, Puma.” The circle of los mALditos closed around the fire, turning their backs on Julio.
Raúl glanced over his shoulder at Julio and shouted, “Hermanos! Alianza Lima es el Peru!” He turned back to the gathering circle and began stomping his foot. “Olé olé, olé olá, Alianza Lima a ganar. Olé olé, olé olá, Alianza Lima a ganar.” Los mALditos began clapping and stomping their feet in rhythm with Raúl and joined in the chant as they danced around the fire.
Julio shivered and shook his head. I should have never promised Mamá. He shuffled down the stairs, hopped on his skateboard, and shivered all the way home.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
El Hospital
Julio’s shoes were still damp early the next morning when he skated up to Caritas. He had scrubbed out most of the filth, but they hadn’t had time to dry. He rubbed his finger along the stubble of his right eyebrow and worried what the other kids would say, but unlike his shoes, it would take weeks for his eyebrow look normal again. He swiped his hand across the sensor and hurried inside, hoping that he could dodge any questions with half-truths.
Carmen was humming to herself when Julio approached the kitchen. “Buenos días. I made it on time today,” mumbled Julio.
Carmen was pulling a pot from the cabinet. “Buenos días, glad you made it,” she answered with her usual smile. When she looked at Julio, she wrinkled her brow. “What happened to your eyebrow?”
Julio traced his finger across the shaved eyebrow and shrugged. “I had a run-in with a gang. They did this to remind me to pay them proper respect.”
Carmen shook her head. “Why did you need a reminder? You should know better already.”
Julio nodded and looked at his wet shoes. “I have this friend. He got involved with a gang, and I was just trying to talk some sense into him.”
“Friend? You mean, twin brother?” She shook her head. “And the gang leaders found out and paid you a visit,” continued Carmen. She clicked her tongue. “You can’t save your brother from himself. He has to want to change before you can help him.”
“I know, but I feel responsible for him.”
“You can look after him, mi hijo, but you can’t live his life for him.” The telephone in her apron chimed, and she took a look at the message. “The delivery truck is here.” She tossed Julio the keys. “Can you take care of the delivery for me?”
Julio nodded and hustled over to the hallway door, fumbling to find the right key. When he opened the door to the alleyway, the deliveryman had already unloaded three boxes of food. He moved the boxes into the hallway, thanked the deliveryman, and shut the back door. He was picking up the first box when Isak came through the back door of his office with Doctor Kozyar right behind him. They were laughing at something and didn’t notice Julio standing there with the box of food.
Doctor Kozyar noticed Julio first and stopped laughing immediately. “Good morning, Julio,” said Isak, laughter still in his voice. “Carmen said you were a big help to her. Can I get the door for you?” He continued to advance with Doctor Kozyar lingering behind.
“Yes please, and good morning,” answered Julio with a nod. He looked down at the floor and hoped they wouldn’t notice his eyebrow in the low light of the hallway. Isak and Doctor Kozyar passed him, and Isak opened the door. allowing the doctor to pass through first. When Julio slipped through the door, Isak grabbed his arm and stopped him.
“What happened to your eyebrow?” said Isak. “You look like you lost a fight with a razor blade.” Doctor Kozyar, who was about to duck into the examination room, stopped and stared at Julio.
“A gang paid me a visit,” answered Julio.
Isak put a hand on Julio’s chin and turned his head to examine the eyebrow. “Why would they bother to do that?”
“I tried to talk a friend of mine out of joining their gang.”
Isak released Julio. “Don’t keep Carmen waiting,” said Isak. He said something to Doctor Kozyar in a foreign language, and she continued into the examination room. Isak followed her.
When Julio finished bringing in the boxes of food, Carmen rewarded him for his help with a small bowl of rice pudding, and he sat in the empty lunchroom enjoying the rice and custard dessert when he heard Isak’s heavy footsteps against the tile floor.
Isak pulled out a chair and folded his large frame into it at the table with Julio. He entwined his hands and placed them on the table in front of him. His oversized gold watch clunked against the tabletop, and Julio could feel his eyes penetrate right through him. “Gangs are like bullies,” he began, “except more dangerous because of their strength in numbers. Bullies and gangs only understand fear, loyalty, and force. The only way to deal with them is to avoid them or show them you are not a target worth their time and effort. Do you think you can avoid them in the future?”
Julio was afraid of saying too much. He spooned another bite of the rice pudding and nodded.
Isak sat up straight and squared his shoulders. “I have experience with bullies. Perhaps, if you can’t avoid them, I can show them that you have allies that can make their lives miserable. Would you like me to help you send them a message?”
Julio loved the idea of using Isak to extract his revenge on los mALditos, but he knew he couldn’t do it without exposing himself and Raúl. He shook his head. “Not yet, but if it gets worse, I will let you know.”
Isak put a hand on Julio’s shoulder and leaned in close. “They did this to you to send you a message,” he said. “I would be glad to send them a message in return.” He patted Julio on the shoulder. His heavy footsteps echoed in the empty room as he headed back to his office.
Julio felt a strange feeling of relief and expectation when Isak walked away. He worried that Isak would find out about Raúl, but the thought of a confrontation between Isak and los mALditos made him smile.
Before going to the computer, Julio wanted another hot shower. He had washed off all of the muck from the pipe last night, but he still felt dirty. He took his time this morning, washing his hair twice and letting the hot water pour over him until he felt clean. He had almost put the experience out of his mind, until he put on his dirty shoes. I won’t let them humiliate me again.
Several other students, including Angelica, were plucking away at assignments when Julio logged on. She smiled at him as he sat down. He smiled back and tried to focus on his work. His phone vibrated. It was a message from Angelica.
Sorry about getting upset with you.
It’s okay, he answered. He was relieved that she was still talking to him.
Can we meet after lunch? she asked.
Sure.
Julio looked over at Angelica. Her brown hair fell on her shoulders as her nimble fingers pecked at the keyboard. He remembered how good it felt when she had wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close. His lips could still feel the kiss. As if she could read his thoughts, Angelica looked back at Julio and gave him a coy smile. He blushed and turned back to the computer.
By the time he finished lunch, and another bowl of rice pudding, Julio’s shoes were dry. Although they sat at the same table, he and Angelica hadn’t talked much. It was like they were both afraid of saying the wrong thing in front of everyone else.
Angelica stood to take her dishes to the kitchen. “Meet me at the park down the street by the bus stop,” she whispered. She dropped off her dishes and hurried out the door. A fe
w minutes later, Julio carried his dirty dishes to the kitchen, gathered his things, and hurried to meet Angelica.
He found her on a bench under a tree when he skated into the small park not far from Caritas. “When did you start shaving your eyebrows?” she asked before he could even come to a complete stop.
He popped his board up into his hands. “Oh, this,” he said as he ran a finger over the stubble of his eyebrow. “It’s a gift from my brother and his gang.” He grinned and added, “I really think it’s a look that’s going to catch on.”
Angelica grimaced and shook her head. “Don’t count on it. Why would they shave your eyebrow?”
Julio took off his backpack and sat on the bench beside Angelica. “They wanted to be able to tell me and my twin brother apart.” He shrugged and added, “And probably to send me a message.”
Angelica grabbed Julio’s chin and turned his face toward her. She examined the eyebrow and even ran her finger across the stubble, sending a shiver down Julio’s back. Her face was so close he could smell the rice pudding on her breath. With her hand still on his chin, she stared into his eyes and then slowly leaned forward until her forehead was touching his. “At least they didn’t do any permanent damage.” She laughed and pulled back.
Julio laughed with her, but his was a nervous laugh.
Angelica pulled out her cell phone. “Let’s call Sofía Encuentro and see what she found out.”
“Well,” hesitated Julio, “she said it would take a couple of days for her to check out our story.”
“Didn’t your Mamá ever use the saying, ‘The squeaky wheel gets the grease?’ ” She started scrolling through her recent calls.
“I really think we should wait a couple of days.”
“Nonsense,” said Angelica as she dialed Sofía’s number and held out the phone to Julio. “It’s ringing. The squeaky wheel gets the grease.”
Julio started to protest, but he heard Sofía’s voice coming from the earpiece. “Sofía Encuentro, cuando hay noticias, yo encuentro.” He snatched the phone from Angelica’s hand and answered. “Buenas tardes. This is Julio Camino from Caritas. I called you yesterday about the death of Graciela Gomez, another member of Caritas. Did you find out anything about her death?”
“Ah, hola, Julio,” answered Sofía. Julio could hear papers rustling in the background. “I had one of my staff members check into it. According to hospital records, she overdosed and was pronounced dead on arrival. Nothing appears to be out of the ordinary.”
Julio stood up. “But she couldn’t have. She wasn’t using drugs anymore.”
“Look, Julio, I still remember what it’s like on the streets. Let’s not be naïve.”
Julio shook his head as he began to pace back and forth in front of the bench. “What else does her record say? Where was she buried?”
“Well, she was pronounced dead of an overdose, and since she has no family to claim the body, her organs were donated under the laws of presumed consent. Her death will help someone else to live.”
“No body? No funeral service? How do we know they didn’t fake her death and sell her for human trafficking?”
“The official report from Hospital Edgardo Rebagliati is that she was dead on arrival. Unfortunately, that isn’t really news.”
“So that’s it?”
Sofía let out an obvious sigh of frustration. “Like I told you yesterday, the big story today is the president’s mistress. Nothing looks out of the ordinary with this girl’s death.”
“The girl’s name is Graciela Gomez,” interrupted Julio.
“Bueno, nothing looks out of the ordinary with Graciela’s death. Like I told you, I’m really busy. I did what you asked me to do. I would be happy to donate some money for Graciela’s grave marker, but I am about to interview the president’s mistress in one hour, and I really don’t have any more time to waste on this dead-end story. I’m sorry.”
Julio clenched his teeth. “I’m sorry too.” He ended the call with a bitter taste in his mouth and handed the phone back to Angelica.
“No grease for the squeaky wheel?” asked Angelica.
Julio threw up his hands and let out an exasperated sigh. “She said the records showed nothing out of the ordinary. She is already on to the next big story and called this a dead end.”
“Well, at least we got an answer.” Angelica stood. “What now?”
“Don’t look at me.”
“Why are you so upset about the answer from Sofía Encuentro?”
Julio shook his head. He realized his fists were clenched and his jaw was tight. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. “I don’t know. I guess I expected to get more help from her.”
“She did what we asked her to do. She checked into the death and found nothing out of the ordinary. You aren’t comfortable with that answer, are you?”
As much as he didn’t want to agree with Angelica, he knew she was right. Something about Graciela’s death was gnawing at him. “You’re right. I don’t feel comfortable.” He shrugged. “But we don’t have proof of anything.”
He rubbed the space between his left thumb and forefinger. He held up his hand to show Angelica. “Did you know that this anatomical space has a name?” Angelica shook her head. “Doctor Barilla called it the thenar space. He told Isak it was interesting use of the thenar space.” Julio gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Interesting, and possibly deadly,” he said almost to himself. Then he remembered the evidence he had given to Doctor Barilla. “Can you get us a ride to the Hospital Edgardo Rebagliati?”
Angelica shook her head. “Martín said he didn’t have enough money to give Armando any more minutes right now. I took the microbús this morning. Why?”
Julio checked his phone for the time. “Doctor Barilla will be on duty this afternoon at Hospital Edgardo Rebagliati. Maybe he has some answers by now.” Julio slipped on his backpack and grabbed his skateboard. He offered Angelica his hand. “He should be at work by the time we get there on my skateboard.”
* * *
Julio pushed the skateboard along with Angelica on the board in front of him. He kept one hand on her waist to guide her in the turns and the other hand as a counterbalance. Her dark hair brushed against his face and smelled like flowers. She held out her arms for balance at first, and he taught her how to place her feet and adjust her weight on the board. By the time they arrived at the hospital, Angelica seemed comfortable with skateboarding.
Hospital Edgardo Rebagliati towered fifteen stories over the surrounding squat structures like a monument to modern medicine. Julio guided the skateboard past the empty circular fountain in front of the hospital. The siren of an arriving ambulance wailed and provided a backdrop to the thumping of the skateboard’s wheels as it rolled over the joints in the concrete. The glass front doors slid open and shut with the steady stream of medical personnel in scrubs and lab coats mingled with somber-faced visitors.
The main lobby of the hospital felt stuffy, and it echoed with a cacophony of sounds created by both human misery and relief. It held the charm of a crypt. An elderly woman with reading glasses sat behind the information desk talking on the phone. She covered the mouthpiece and smiled at them when they approached.
“Can you please direct us to the office of Doctor Barilla?” asked Julio. “He works in the morgue.”
She smiled a tight smile and glanced at the skateboard under Julio’s arm. “The morgue is located all the way down this hallway to the left, and down one floor to the basement.” She went back to her phone conversation. Julio nodded a thank-you and followed her directions.
As soon as they turned down the hallway, Angelica hissed, “The morgue? I thought he was a doctor.”
Julio ignored the comment and kept moving.
The cold basement hallways were deserted and their footsteps echoed against the concrete walls. When they stopped in front of the morgue, a sweet, pungent odor seeped through the blank metal door and into the hallway. Julio fidgeted with his skateb
oard and looked at Angelica. She had a hand over her mouth. Julio suppressed a grin and knocked.
Doctor Barilla opened the door dressed in a heavy white lab coat over green scrubs. Behind him were several stainless steel tables and a wall of stainless steel cabinets. One of the tables was covered in a white sheet with the form of a body underneath. A wave of cold air infused with formaldehyde smell poured into the hallway and hit Julio in the face. His experience with live patients hadn’t prepared him for this, and he involuntarily stopped breathing and gagged back his lunch.
“Hola, Julio,” said Doctor Barilla as he ushered them in. “Are you two going to be okay?” Julio and Angelica both nodded without opening their mouths. He motioned to a couple of chairs in front of a big metal desk cluttered with papers and pale green file folders. A silver laptop sat on the corner of the desk.
“Julio, have you forgotten your manners?” said Doctor Barilla as he rounded his desk and took a seat. “You haven’t introduced me to your lady friend.”
Julio swallowed and tried to breathe through his mouth. “This is my friend Angelica, from Caritas,” he replied in a nasal tone.
“A pleasure to meet you,” said Doctor Barilla with a nod and a smile. Angelica nodded without removing her hand from her mouth.
Doctor Barilla looked at Julio and frowned when he saw the shaved eyebrow, but Julio appeased him with a shake of his head. The doctor leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “So what do I owe the honor of a personal visit?”
Julio glanced at Angelica. “Isak announced that Graciela, the girl I told you about, died of an overdose,” explained Julio, still breathing through his mouth. “We wanted to see if you found out anything about the pills and syringe I gave you.”
“Ah, of course, let me see . . .” Doctor Barilla slipped on his reading glasses and shuffled through some papers on the corner of his metal desk and retrieved a folder. “Graciela’s death doesn’t surprise me considering what I discovered about the pills and the syringe.” He flipped open the folder and surveyed the page. “The small white capsule was flunitrazepam, a sedative. The syringe proved to be ketaset, also a sedative.” He looked over his glasses at Julio and shook his head. “They are a potentially deadly combination.”