by Gus Leodas
She decided to enjoy a hot bath before her children arrived, and immersed for thirty minutes.
What’s with Steinerman?
What the hell is going on?
Afternoon reached five o’clock, no phone call. At five-thirty the children and Esmeralda returned. At five-forty, Steinerman called.
“Mrs. deLorenzo, the President is detained in a very important conference and asked me to call instead.”
“I don’t mean to offend but I don’t want to talk to you at this time.”
“The President told me to call for him.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Silence.
“I don’t understand your attitude. The President is a busy man.”
“You seriously underestimate my capabilities. I insist you transfer me to his office right now.”
“You are being difficult and placing me in an awkward position.”
“Mr. Steinerman, I’ll place you in a worse position if I don’t speak to him now. If you refuse to put me through, I will come down to the palace and create the biggest disturbance since the riots. Am I coming through clearly?”
More silence.
“I do agree with you. Family matters also must have priority. I’ll see that the President calls you within five minutes.”
“I shall be waiting.”
In three minutes, the phone rang.
“Pilar, is that you?” A deep booming voice tinged with warmth for her.
“Yes, Uncle, it is. How are you?”
“Now that I know you are home and speak to you, I never felt better. A diplomat from France kept me from the airport. How are you? The children? I can’t tell you how I missed them.”
“All well and impatient to see you.”
“And I look forward to that. Did Steinerman tell you I’d like you to spend time at my country home?”
“He did.”
“How about this Saturday for at least a week?”
“This Saturday will be fine.”
“Excellent. The new retreat is west of San Isidro. You will love it especially the swimming pool and space for the children to run.”
“I don’t care about the place, Uncle Rafael. I want time with you.”
He laughed. “Pilar, you always knew how to wrap me around your thumb with sweet words. I love it. Keep it up. As for Saturday, I’ll send a car for you. How is Esmeralda? Are you bringing her also?”
“Never been without Esmeralda. I would love to bring her.”
“We have plenty of room. I hoped you’d call earlier.”
“I did try to call. It’s difficult to get through.”
“Sometimes I am overprotected. Here, take my private number. It rings to my office. No red tape.” She wrote the number. “Pilar, it’s impossible to see you before Saturday. What are you doing with yourself?”
“Trying to reacquaint the children. I’m having dinner tonight with Tomayo.”
“Great. You tell him I’m annoyed with him, never answers my phone calls. I think he’s mad at me for delaying to give him a government position. Ask him to come also for a few days. I want to see him again. We need to talk, to always keep the family together.”
Fraudulence existed and her uncle functioned blindly in its lengthening shadow.
“Until Saturday then, Pilar.”
Pilar felt somewhat relieved. Her uncle was warm, wonderful, and his usual self.
Argentineans eat late at night starting from ten to two in the morning. If you wonder how they can eat and stay out late, it’s because they take a siesta between six and eight o’clock.
Pilar did that.
“My, don’t you look handsome.”
Tomayo wore a blue suit and tie. He resembled Carlos; same height, five-foot eleven and as handsome…a masculine rugged looking handsome. Pilar wondered why she failed to notice before. She pressed her cheek to his. Tomayo relished her fragrance. She wore a black evening dress exposing shoulders.
“You don’t look bad yourself. Beautiful is an understatement.”
“Quick. Open the champagne.”
Tomayo popped the cork holding it. A minimum amount of champagne bubbled over into the ice. He poured two glasses.
Pilar toasted. “Here’s to Tomayo deLorenzo who I missed most of all.”
“To you, Pilar, who I missed terribly.”
Crystal sounded its sustained ring.
“Tomayo, tonight, I’m a Porteno, want to feel like one again. To eat parrallidas, listen to Argentinean music, dance all night, and run you into the ground until you beg for mercy,” she said enthused.
Residents of Buenos Aires call themselves Portenos – people of the port.
Pilar again realized how relaxed and comfortable she felt with Tomayo; no need for pretense; neither had anything to prove to the other; forgot how easy it was to laugh with him.
“How did your day go?” he asked.
“Thank you for sending Alejandro. Having him, I felt protected. We all visited Carlos. Then he escorted Esmeralda and the kids to the zoo. I had a lousy day. I spoke to Uncle Rafael and…”
“Did he call you or did you call him?”
“He called. Before that, Steinerman was reluctant to put me through to him until I threatened to go to the palace and create a disturbance.”
He shook his head in accepted frustration.
“That figures.”
“Please explain what’s going on? A car followed us today.”
“Alejandro mentioned it. I promise I will over dinner.” He delayed upsetting her with that negative news.
“Uncle Rafael said he called you several times and he’s angry at you for failing to return his calls. He thinks you’re mad at him because he hasn’t offered you a position. Sounds like a communication mixup.”
“I never received a call from Uncle Rafael.”
Astonished, she asked, “You didn’t?”
“Steinerman controls all his calls. I’m unsure whether Uncle Rafael knows that. I assume Steinerman told him he gave me the message or, I would call him soon, or I wasn’t in. The same happens to my calls.”
“You should have threatened a scene as I did.”
“A woman, you might’ve gotten through. A rifle butt would’ve greeted me. If Uncle Rafael found out, Steinerman would call the incident a regrettable mistake. Steinerman doesn’t know how to handle you. You’re an enigma to him, an unknown quantity. I also tried writing. Steinerman has formed an iron fence around him.”
“But why?”
“Wait until dinner. We’ll have much to talk about.”
“I don’t know if I can wait that long. My curiosity is driving me crazy. Come to think of it, I wrote to him also and never received a reply. He wants the children and me at his retreat on Saturday. I plan to stay all next week maybe longer. He also mentioned to bring you if you want to go…at least for a few days.”
“Great! An opportunity to talk to him. Where is the retreat? I know it’s new.”
“Don’t know exactly but west of San Isidro. His car is picking us up.”
“I might have difficulty making it Saturday. Tell him I’ll come by on Sunday and the following weekend. I have a contract to fulfill next week and can’t spare the time.”
“Then we can tell him about Steinerman.”
“I intend to. And more. I doubt it will help much.”
Buenos Aires teemed; people, traffic, and bright lights. They headed for La Estancia a restaurant known for its parrallida, a world famous national dish; a mixture of prime steak chunks, chicken, small sausages, lamb, and pork slices barbecued on a stove or parrilla at the table; a culinary delight. The crowded restaurant located in central Buenos Aires at Avenida Lavalle near Avenida 9 de Julio.
They ordered champagne.
Pilar looked around and inhaled a deep breath.
Tomayo noticed. “You’ve done that ever since I parked the car.”
“It feels good being here. I want to absorb it all. I never realized the obvious
vibrations of Buenos Aires, an excitement making you feel alive.” She inhaled another exaggerated deep breath and coveted the swirling nostalgia.
“After learning about your depressing existence in New York I’m delighted to see you happy and smiling.”
“Your turn to depress me. I waited this long with my uncontrollable curiosity. What’s happening here?”
“Let’s have champagne first.” Tomayo wanted the alcohol to fortify her for what he had to tell her.
“Why?”
“To toast you again. It’s coming.”
A waiter opened the bottle and poured.
“Okay, Tomayo, here’s to me.”
“Cheers with a long swallow.”
“If you insist.” She drank. “Now speak up.”
Tomayo surveyed the neighbors satisfied they looked friendly, and leaned closer to her for security.
“We know the cause that led Uncle Rafael to the presidency. Great promises made – a sound and stable future with peace and prosperity. The first month of his administration bred reason for celebration. Human rights restored, terrorism ended, and Argentina turned enthusiastic again, the economy grew on a sub-rosa level, then many attitudes drifted towards a coming dictatorship.”
“No one calls Uncle Rafael a dictator. I would have heard that in New York.”
“Openly, he isn’t functioning as a dictator although he has yet to have the free elections for president that he promised. If he held an election, I think he’d win. The majority loves him.” Pilar appeared bewildered. “To the point. As you know, Argentina welcomed many immigrants from Germany since the early forties, a minority, but a strong willed minority. Their strength comes through Uncle Rafael. Steinerman and his people helped him reach the palace and first to encourage revolt and advised him militarily. They placed their men in leadership – government and military positions. Steinerman is beginning to run this country with an iron hand. I believe Uncle Rafael is ignorant of that. They keep him busy on international matters and foreign policy that he left domestic matters to Steinerman.”
“Frightening!”
“The Germans have found a way to take over the country. They cannot afford to have anything happen to Uncle Rafael because they know a German is ineligible to be president of Argentina unless he’s a Roman Catholic. They don’t need the position as long as someone’s there whom they can manipulate. Through endless harassment and social persecution, several of our best people have resigned and replaced by Germans.”
“What will happen if something happened to Uncle Rafael?”
“If he died in office the German thrust dies. He has yet to name a vice-president. Many capable men could take over including Senator Federico Luis Quintero, a respected member in Congress. He remains powerful and popular, although suppressed. He’s good and honest.”
“Tomayo,” said Pilar with concern and consternation. “You know what’s going on. Doesn’t everyone else?”
“No. I know because I associate with a group of insiders seeking ways to stop the German progress without causing public panic.”
“How can you do that?”
“Priority is to talk to Uncle Rafael to make him realize what’s happening, what the Germans are doing.”
“No wonder they protect and surround him. They don’t want anyone talking to him,” concluded Pilar.
“When only close by and could listen to the conversation.”
“What will happen if you can’t stop their progress?”
Tomayo hesitated.
“Then we’ll have to resort to force to overthrow Uncle Rafael.”
He stunned Pilar. “You mean another civil war?”
“Yes.”
Revulsion thundered through Pilar. Was Carlos’s death in vain, her sacrifice for nothing, her children’s suffering a waste?
The residue of internal outrage and seething violence churning her docile blood eased. She needed reassurance that would never happen. Praying for assurance, she looked deep into Tomayo’s eyes.
“Will it ever get that bad? I mean will the Germans give you enough cause to disrupt the country?”
“I’ll give you more background. Good people are leaving government and dozens are vanishing. We know they’re in jail, political prisoners, enemies of the State. Do you remember Carlos’s friend, Domingo Nunez?”
“Yes.”
“He was the leading human rights advocate in the administration. He supposedly resigned and then vanished. A contact at the Ministry of the Interior told us Domingo was held, and I quote – ‘at the disposition of the executive power’ – without them specifying the reason. We sent petitions to the President. We received no reply; neither did newspapers and religious and cultural organizations who inquired. Thus far, the official edict from the Ministry is ignorance. Dozens are missing as if a secret Gestapo-like organization existed. We know it exists.
“Also last month when Uncle Rafael traveled to the Patagonia provinces, about ninety women, many relatives of the missing demonstrated in front of the Congress building to protest the disappearances. They demanded the government release information on them. The police soon scattered them, a few arrested, and then released the next day, forced by headlines. It’s hard to believe Uncle Rafael never inquired about that when he returned. On the other hand maybe he knows.”
Pilar stared into the champagne, her thoughts suspended by the ugly specter of another war, a disastrous future. An instrumental CD of tangos and boleros played in the background.
A waiter arrived. Tomayo ordered the parrallida for two along with salad and vegetables and more champagne.
Pilar said, “This is terrifying. I can’t believe it. I don’t want to.”
“I haven’t told you the worst yet.”
“Oh.”
Pilar’s eyes widened.
“Pilar, I don’t mean to frighten you, but you’re an extraordinary citizen. You and I are his family, the only ones who can communicate with him. Steinerman knows this. It’s important you know the background. I don’t know whether our efforts will change anything, but we must try.”
She drank an extended sip of champagne then waved a distressed head.
“I didn’t realize how bad things were. I planned to persuade Uncle Rafael on matters of poverty and hunger when I saw him. I didn’t realize Argentina had a cancer.” Tomayo waited for Pilar to settle. She noticed. “Please go on. What’s worse?”
“Argentina will declare war with Chile in less than a year.” Pilar’s mouth crumbled open. “After Chile, Paraguay and Bolivia are the next targets…then Brazil.”
“O my God!” uttered Pilar.
“To understand why, we have to relate it to German history before World War II. If you recall, Germany raided their radio station and then blamed Poland as an excuse for invasion. The Chile invasion as we see it will take place over a phony excuse regarding the jointly owned islands in the Beagle Channel down by Cape Horn. We suspect Argentina will annex them. Chile will complain then the new German controlled army will have its excuse to strike.
“The Germans espouse that Argentina can prosper only by expansion, that her destiny is to become the economic leader of all South America. One recent excuse bandied about is the new European restrictions on beef affecting our export beef industry – a severe setback to reversal trends instituted by Uncle Rafael.
“There you have it, Pilar. An insane, mad, destructive military nightmare formulated in the demented thinking of the past. There’s more. A new youth movement has begun under the guise of the Boy Scouts, the foundation for the new Argentine German oriented youth movement. Further, they are taking the money the black rich soil brings to Argentina. Peron used that money and put it into industry to industrialize, to grow. Steinerman takes the money from both and puts it into weapons. The army has grown. Why did it grow?
“Do you realize if it continues and you stayed in Argentina, Andres will be taken from you to become a youth of the State? You will become a secondary figure in his li
fe. When they’re through, he will have severed all family ties. That’s what happened to thousands of mothers in Germany before and during World War II.”
Pilar shook worse than before.
His words rampaged through her national pride, tore and gouged her maternal core, jolting the instincts of a lioness protecting her cubs.
Tomayo saw her demise, reached out and held her hand.
“Are you all right?”
She composed.
“You unnerved me.” She drank champagne. “That feels good like a magic potion from Disneyland that makes Earth a happy place to live in; no wars; no suffering; no poverty; no hunger.”
Tomayo had more to tell her.
More shocking.
He thought it unwise to continue with Argentina’s plight and its effects.
Additional information would have devastated the evening.
“Let’s get away from politics. It’s miserable. I want to feel happy tonight without a care.” Pilar turned to vibrant again and emoted, “Why don’t you pretend you’re madly in love with me that this place is the most romantic on earth and whisper sweet things and everything nice in my ear, something like your poetry?”
Telling the truth for Tomayo would be easy, the rehearsed words of his feelings for her, but an inappropriate time for seriousness or romance. He brought her hand to his lips kissing it.
He thought to create a poem since he also used to write song lyrics.
“I’m waiting,” she said in singsong.
He cleared his throat. “My dear maiden. Why do I who humbly sits before you have the strength to hold the sea and the realm of all your beauty makes the mountains bow to me? And as I gaze into your eyes and sail to yonder star are dreams the magic vessel or is it my Pilar.”
“Beautiful! Outrageous!” she exclaimed with discreet applause. Then she held his hand. “That was beautiful. Thank you, what I needed for my ego. You won me over fair prince. You’re no longer a frog.”
Tomayo laughed. “It’s nice to see you looking happier. It becomes you.”
“Here with you becomes me. Let’s eat. I’m famished.”