Scarred Face

by Stefano Paolocci

  Since early morning the whole bay had come to life. Families and throngs of people were loaded up to their heads with big chests and boxes. The sandy beach was transformed into a market, filled with people’s precious treasures: old dolls, yellowed books, some tin soldier, a myriad of building blocks, trinkets, little things that until recently were still cherished by their respective owners. But now, all of a sudden it looked as though they weren’t good anymore, just silly useless things, no longer good to be played with, so therefore had to be sold, more often than not, to the worst bidder.

  There was big excitement for that evening’s finals, at the compra. On that day, June the 25th, there was so much anticipation and impatience, that it had become like an excuse for people to lock up their house, and stay outside in the open air, so time would pass quicker.

  Even Luz had wanted her own little space, a little table where, at all costs she could display her box of colouring pencils and try to sell it.

  - Anyway, what do I need them for? Guglielmo is not letting me scribble on the faces of the players any more, and I don’t want to see these stupid colours anymore! – she yelled at Raul whilst slamming the door to her room, right in his face. It was all in vain trying to convince her against her decision: she wanted to sell the colours in order to buy something less melancholic.

  Maria Laura and Raul had strolled down to the beach, holding Guglielmo and Luz apart, by each taking one by the hand.

  There was no need even to bring a chest or any boxes: Luz had carried her own box of colouring pencils, whilst Guglielmo had his school rucksack on his shoulder.

  -What have you got inside your bag? It’s ok to tell us now – Maria Laura tried asking Guglielmo. However, much to everyone’s annoyance, in his reply, he had only insisted that they would all find that out soon enough. When they would reach the beach.

  Even Alfredo, agreed to meet up with Walter and his friends, at the water’s edge; there they had decided to give the finishing touches to the kite. It was precisely there, at the beach, that they had prepared to steal the sticker of the player Kempes.

  -Haven’t you finished with that thing yet!?

  -You need patience dear Walter, something which clearly you don’t have, or you never even dreamed of having!

  -Oh wow! Hold your horses! Do you need to show us that you’re talking like a grown up now? Come on Miguel, get a move on! Or else it’s you, that is going to end up being attached to that contraption, and get stones hurtled at you to bring you crashing down all battered. And you Alfredo Lupin, are you ready to cast your throw?

  Not even one word came out of the boy’s mouth. He only nodded his head in agreement, whether he liked it or not.

  Kempes

  People were strolling around leisurely along the beach, with hands in back pockets, or stuffed inside their bags. Some with hands behind their backs, with one eye watching their children or nephews, and with the other trying to make out what was being sold, like the many magazines scattered across the stalls. The children were attracted to the toys and trinkets, like bees are to honey, and it was quite hard to keep an eye, both on what was going on, and the whereabouts of the kids at the same time. Scattered here and there, were old magazines like the ‘Argen’ or ‘Mundo’ and one could also glimpse the title fragments chosen by ‘Clarin’ for that memorable 25th June: Argentina, por la Copa del Mundo.

  Near the pier, oblivious to the hustle and bustle that was going on, on the beach, and away from all the excitement and from where Guglielmo was with his family, Miguel was putting his finishing touches to the kite:

  -There you go, I’ll attach this tissue paper one last bit and it will be ready: he said.

  Hugo, Walter and Alfredo were bored waiting for their friend to get finished, and so, had started skipping stones in the water to kill the time.

  -Finally! You’ve finished it! Don’t you get it? We are only doing this to get it all bashed up again! You’ve worked way too hard on it for nothing, but if you like it that way, then so be it...... and now the ball is in your court Alfredino, in your managing to nick the sticker of the matador and bringing it to us.

  At Walter’s last words, Alfredo clenched his fists tighter around the stone he had been holding in his hand, almost crushing it: only to cause him unnecessary self-inflicted pain, since he only meant to throw it a bit further out at sea, than the rest of the gang managed to do.

  The ocean swallowed the little stone and its sin, subdued to it with its impassive silence and calmness.

  Luz was on her knees, with the shoe box wide open to reveal its colourful contents of colouring pencils.

  She would first say the price to the ones that were stopping by and showing interest, and then blurt out all the defects of her colours: the ends that broke easily, the yellow that was too light in colour, the blue that was more like azure and so on. And if somebody still tried to show interest in buying, then she’d switch to her last resort:

  - ......look closely, there’s this one that has even been chewed up.......

  And that was all it took for the interested buyer to change his mind. And for her to feel triumphant and put a smile back on her little face.

  Meanwhile, Guglielmo was still clutching his bag closely to his chest, almost afraid to open it up and spill out its contents.

  -You’re not going to take out your things? – asked Raul, after various winks and looks from Maria Laura.

  -Yes I will, I’m only waiting for the wind to calm down.

  - Do you, by any chance, have something that can be blown away? – persisted his father.

  And if looks weren’t enough to show the plain truth to Raul and Maria Laura, then his reply straight after, left them both speechless:

  -What I had, has already been blown away.

  And with that off his chest, he dropped the rucksack to the ground, bent over it, loosened the strings that were keeping it closed tightly and stuffed his whole arm inside it, to retrieve the newspaper cuttings that were stuck immaculately to cardboard paper. And these newspaper cuttings Maria Laura had already seen before.

  At the end of that silent disagreement, just like when Armstrong (the first astronaut that walked on the moon) with his American flag, had slammed deep down into the sand, so did Guglielmo stick the cardboards on sticks, into the sandy beach. The newspaper cuttings in ink and paper with the faces of the players all cut with scissors meticulously, but now, just imprints of lost shadows staring blankly in the sun.

  Luz was paying attention to the whole scene, when suddenly, she jumped in fright, startled by Alfredo who appeared abruptly, out of nowhere right behind her.

  Do I frighten you so much? – teased the boy. But the little girl had already moved away, protected by the warm embrace of her mother and assured by a warm look from her father.

  Guglielmo was also surprised to find his friend at his side and asked him what he was doing there:

  -Weren’t you supposed to be with Walter and the rest of the gang?

  -Yes, I am with them down there, near the pier. But I felt like taking a stroll around the stalls to check what’s on show. You know the others, they are good for nothing and lazy, and so I’ve made up my mind to walk around by myself around the Flea Market to see if I come across something interesting. Why don’t you head down there to find them? Miguel has built a huge kite, perhaps they’ll let you try it out- and feigning interest he’d continued to ask:

  -But what are these? Have you decided to start selling newspaper cuttings now?

  -I am not selling them, I am only searching for them, seeing that somebody has made them vanish into thin air – and whilst he said that, he stared intently at his sister Luz who, at that moment, was huddled deep in her mother’s arms.

  -Perhaps the people who pass by will recognise them, you can’t not recognise them! And so, help me find them back or perhaps – he continued saying whilst fixing his eyes on his mum and dad – somebody else gives me a hand in finding out who took them, because all this is so unju
st, so cruel, so shameful.

  He blinked away the tears that were threating to spill out. He was on the very edge to burst out crying, his chin wobbling, and the hurt that was gripping at him, clearly evident on his face.

  But Guglielmo, not to give any satisfaction to his sister, so as not to show her how much he was really hurting, swallowed his bitterness in silence and decided on Alfredo’s suggestion, to go down to the pier.

  Alfredo begun changing colours and breaking into a sweat. The colour drained from his face. He was torn between confessing everything and obeying Walter’s instructions.

  It was a passer-by who cut through his thoughts when he had enquired loudly as to what were all those newspaper cuttings for, and who on earth was that man with the huge moustache, unshaved face, and with a weird funny name - ...... a name that made a clanking noise when pronounced.

  Only then did Alfredo realise that revenge came above anything else, before friendship and before what lied deep in one’s heart:

  -His name is Krankl Johann, born in Vienna on the 14th February 1953, in the 70/71 season he was with the Austrian football club Rapid Vienna, and the year after....... and he carried on talking and reporting all the career of the Austrian centreforward. He then glimpsed at Guglielmo and said:

  -just go to the others, I’ll take care of your vanished players – and so Guglielmo, totally ignorant of the situation, left his friend to take care of his things, like a wolf in charge of a flock of sheep, whilst he walked briskly towards the rest of the pack.

  - Signora Maria Laura, do you know when Kempes was born?

  Alfredo cunningly studied his question thoroughly, and knew perfectly well what her reply to it was going to be. (No I don’t have a clue, ask Raul) and Raul’s reply would be (I don’t remember,....... I think ........., no sorry, I really can’t remember). And right on cue, he’d been correct. The replies were just as he had predicted, and so nothing else was left to do, other than to pose the final decisive question:

  - Can I check it out on Guglielmo’s sticker album?

  Luz was quietly observing everything, watching Alfredo’s quick movements: first when he stuck his arm in her brother’s rucksack, then the fishing out of the sticker album in one swift movement, and finally putting his fingers on the player that looked like a matador.

  Raul and Maria Laura were embraced staring out at the ocean. The waves were lapping at the shore, the sea a glorious shade of blue that stretched out as far as the eye can see. Who knew what they were thinking of, perhaps of their first kiss, or their own wedding on the beach, or else of little Luz, as they insistently had started calling her to join them. At first the little girl didn’t take any notice, but when she saw them embraced, she too had run to their arms so she could share that moment of peace and happiness.

  Alfredo knew that that was his one and only chance.

  Whilst the three of them were huddled embracing each other, he swiftly flexed his fingers, and scratched at the sticker of Mario Kempes, smiling wickedly at a passer-by, who had seen the whole scene and suspected its’ foulplay.

  -And welcome to the chief smuggler of all time! – said Walter jubilantly when he saw that Alfredo had returned from his mission. He then continued:

  -You’ve sent that sissy Guglielmo, to tell us that you were going to stay selling his stuff? What’s up with you? Have you forgotten what you were sent out to do? Don’t tell me that you’ve had a change of heart and didn’t accomplish what you were meant to do!

  -Of course I’ve managed, look here! – he said anxiously whilst showing Walter and everyone the decapitated head of Kempes.

  Miguel was with his black pen on the ready when the sticker was almost blown away by a gust of wind. The boys formed a protective circle around him so no passer-by could see the boy drawing away and scribbling the matador’s face.

  When the whole mission was accomplished, Walter demanded:

  -Tell me something, what’s that sissy Guglielmo selling? His dolls or what?

  And in the midst of all the laughter, Alfredo managed to describe the sale that was no sale, the players that were not actually players and to sum it up the stickers that were only pictures of the players that had been cut out from newspapers.

  -Ah, so he’s not only a sissy, but a mad one at that! From today onwards, we’ll start calling him Guglielmo the crazy one, from today, he’s to be known as Guglielmo el loco – and having said that, Walter pulled down the kite and to it attached the new face of Kempes Mario, born in Bell Ville on the 15th July 1954. Together with the other scar-faced profiles of Rensenbrik, Rossi and Krankl, now was also that of Kempes.

  Guglielmo had only just got back, when he found his parents ready to ask him to do something. He was the one who had to go with Luz and get ice cream.

  -Why me? – he’d tried to argue with them, but Maria Laura was stubborn in her decision:

  -Because your father and I, would like a moment in peace together for a while! The kiosk is only just a few steps away, here in front of us: it’s not far, it’s not dangerous, and it’s not complicated. So, grab your sister’s hand and move on! We’ll see you in a bit.

  Even Raul was surprised at this sudden flared temper, and had looked questioningly at his wife. It took only a look from her to make him understand and keep his cool: Maria Laura knew what she was doing.

  The one who didn’t understand, however, was standing anxiously hand in hand with his little sister, in hope of a miracle:

  -But mum!

  -I told you to go! End of discussion. You’ve been sulking and in a bad mood since this morning but now I’ve had enough, so now go on, get moving!

  -Mum ..... – started Guglielmo in a wavering voice. He couldn’t finish his sentence because he’d be giving way to his desolate feelings. If he’d start crying he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  - Don’t make me lose my patience Guglielmo – urged his mum stopping him mid sentence.

  -Mum, Guglielmo is only waiting for some money to buy the ice-creams- interrupted innocently Luz.

  And there you go, it happened again. Life in the blink of an eye, in the most natural way, and, reversed what was so tense and argumentative into something magnificent. She’d managed to diffuse that tension, that friction that was between everyone and bring back a smile to their face. Her way of saying ‘you have got me wrapped up’ instead of ‘you have got me covered’ and her sense of maturity in a childish way.

  That wide-eyed innocent look, a grin from ear to ear, head tilted to one side, with face upturned, a halo of hair around her head, all so natural, and with a sight that melted the heart of anyone, anyone that knew little Luz.

  Guglielmo had already figured out that he was expected to apologize to all of them, in particular, to his parents, but more importantly to his little sister. Because even if she was the one that had ripped off the stickers from his album, she still didn’t deserve his cold attitude. With her sweet smile, she was able to melt his heart and his stubbornness that had been building up day after day, for much too long now.

  Therefore, he took hold of her hand, patted her on her head, and said sweetly to her:

  - There’s a good girl! Now you are able to read my thoughts precisely!

  Maria Laura’s anxiety vanished in that instant. Raul was staring open mouthed totally in awe of what he was witnessing in front of him, whilst a little girl was pulling at the hand of the old man who was with her, and persistently asking if she could get that colouring box that Luz was selling.

  - This is not for sale – promptly replied Guglielmo. This only got the little girl upset and she started whining. The old man, her grandfather, immediately reassured her by saying:

  - ........... and look here, moreover there’s some that have been chewed .......

  The flea market was slowly slowly, coming towards an end. Only a few toys and trinkets remained still on display on the beach. It would come again next year with more or less the same things, and perhaps a little bit more enthusiasm.

&
nbsp; Because this year, everyone was in a rush. Everyone was trying their best to hurry up and get the children, and grandchildren with some absurd excuse or promise of something away from the flea market and keep to their much awaited appointment. Nobody would forget, and nobody was going to miss such an important event.

  Even Raul and Maria Laura were drawn to that fever of waiting. They were eagerly waiting for the start of the match, and so, had already switched on the radio and found the frequency of Radio Nacional.

  Luz was huddled, oblivious to all the excitement. She was busy drawing and scribbling. She was making a lopsided sun and a boat that was as curved as a banana.

  Guglielmo was busy rummaging through his things when suddenly the voice of the broadcaster caught his attention. The names of the eleven players that were about to play against Holland in the World Cup, were being called out:

  - ... Fillol, Olguin, Galvan, Passarella, Tarantini, Ardiles, Gallego, Kempes, Bertoni, Luque, Ortiz .......

  His thoughts at that moment were, that it didn’t matter that they didn’t have any television at home, because then, he could make up an image of the whole match in his mind. It would have made more sense to see the faces of the names pronounced so enthusiastically. So, he got up and ransacked in his backpack for the sticker album. After having forgiven his sister, he’d given her his album to fill out the disappeared gaps with her drawings. He’d even encouraged and was happy in her enthusiasm to stop drawing the picture she’d been busy with, of the sun and the boat, and put her heart and soul into the new task of drawing into the newspaper cuttings. It was then that he’d begun leafing through his sticker album.