Renaldo

by James McCreath

  riches. Rather, it consists of hatred, infamy, and at times, scurrilous poverty.

  Quite different than what you have been used to up to now. You will have to

  work very hard to convince us that you won’t go running to the authorities to

  turn us in and save your own neck at the first sign of trouble.

  “We will give Celeste two weeks to teach you, to indoctrinate you,

  to brainwash you into our way of life. Be assured that you will be watched

  constantly during that time. Know this as well. As of this meeting, there is no

  escaping from our grasp, except by man’s ultimate destiny. Do not disappoint

  us, Lonnie, for we have great plans for you. Do not disappoint Celeste in

  particular, for I know that her plans for you are of a more, shall I say, exacting

  and intimate nature than Jean Pierre and I had in mind. You have stepped over

  the line by coming here today, Lonnie, and there is no stepping back. Now

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  tell me, are you man enough to not only survive, but thrive in the heat of this

  political cauldron you have just plunged yourself into?”

  Lonnie sat motionless for several seconds, the thoughts swirling through

  the rapids of his mind. When the words came, they were from his heart.

  “All my life, I have been seeking a way to express myself. For a long time,

  I thought that sports was the perfect outlet for the hostility that I felt inside.

  But after my father died when I was eleven, throttling a weaker opponent was

  no longer the thrill that it had once been. The questions that I needed answered

  were still rattling around in my head. I had so much hatred trapped inside me.

  Where it came from, I still, to this day, do not know. It is still there though, I

  can assure you of that!

  “The rage that I felt the other day when I thought that Celeste was seeing

  another man, I would have killed anyone who I had found in here, perhaps even

  you and your brother. Celeste has changed me, though. She has made my mind

  work for the first time in my life. She has opened my eyes to many, many things

  that were always there to see, but I was too ignorant to notice them.

  “I will be honest with you. I cannot say for certain that the political

  doctrines that you espouse are the best ones for Argentina or even for me,

  personally. But I do know this. As far as I am concerned, my life before I met

  Celeste was going nowhere. My mother wants me to become a lawyer and run

  the family business. She is sentencing me to a necktie and business suit for the

  rest of my life. I would most likely assault the first advocate that disagreed

  with me in court, and end up a defendant instead of an attorney. I am in love

  with your sister. That I know to the bottom of my heart. There is nothing else

  in this world that matters to me now. Celeste is my future. Do with me what

  you will, as long as I can fight by her side, I will follow her anywhere and do

  your bidding.”

  Once again there was silence, broken only when Celeste finally spoke to

  her brothers in French. It was a language that Lonnie had discarded from his

  studies early in high school. At this moment, he wished that he had pursued it

  further. There was movement in the room again, sounds of items being stuffed

  into haversacks perhaps, then farewell embraces and the traditional two-

  cheeked kiss. Certain words he remembered, au revoir, bonne chance, good-

  bye, and good luck. Again it was Serge that addressed him directly.

  “My brother and I must be leaving now, Lonnie, but we will meet again,

  you may be certain of that. You have a lot of work to do, and I hope that you

  have listened carefully to my dissertation. Celeste will guide you from this

  moment on, and she has specific orders that you must follow exactly as she

  says. Do not disappoint us, Lonnie, or this will be your fate. Adieu, ’til we meet

  again.”

  131

  JAMES McCREATH

  As Serge’s last word hung in the darkness, something landed in Lonnie’s

  lap. He grasped the object in his hand, and there was no mistaking its identity.

  It was a bullet, quite a large caliber judging by its length and weight. He could

  hear the door open, then close quickly. They were obviously gone, for there was

  silence in the room once again. Where was Celeste? Had she gone with them?

  A great temptation to tear off the blindfold and race after the two brothers,

  just to get a glimpse of them, had to be resisted. He was amazed at how much

  he really wanted their approval, to be one of them, to be with Celeste. He sat

  motionless on the couch, waiting. After a considerable amount of time, Lonnie

  was startled to feel her soft hands deftly undoing the knot in the scarf. She did

  not speak.

  It took several seconds for Lonnie’s eyes to adjust to the afternoon sunlight

  that still managed to find its way through the drawn curtains. When his eyes

  finally focused, she was standing in front of him. How beautiful she is, were his

  first thoughts.

  “I will give you one opportunity to leave and never say a word about this

  meeting and never set eyes on me again. I lured you here today under false

  pretenses, I know that. I want your mind, not your erection, to make your final

  decision as to what you will do. There is the door, walk through it now and you

  can go back to the world you are used to. Stay here in this room, and you will

  never be able to return. I have to use the toilet. If you are still here when I get

  back, we can get to work. If you are not, well, you’ve been a great fuck.” She

  was gone in an instant, before he could say a word. He was still sitting where

  she had left him when she reentered the room.

  “You have balls, Señor De Seta, that is for sure! Unfortunately for both of

  us, I will not be playing with them during the course of your indoctrination.

  You must be singular in your purpose and actions. There will be no distractions

  whatsoever. Don’t think of trying any funny stuff. You will use your brain over

  the next two weeks. The rest of your anatomy can wait until you have proven

  yourself to be worthy. You can stand up and stretch now, use the facilities if you

  need to. I will get us a cold drink, then we will get to it.”

  The remainder of the afternoon and into the early evening resembled

  one of Celeste’s tutorials. They sat at her desk together, studying transcripts,

  documents, and texts on the Montonero movement in Argentina. Any passage

  that was anti-Montonero in stance was boldly highlighted in marker pen,

  and Celeste would offer a firm rebuttal to the ‘lies’ that the junta forced into

  publication.

  Lonnie was an attentive student, although Celeste’s proximity to him

  proved distracting at times. He had the urge to take her in his arms, throw

  her on the bed, and ravish her several times. She, however, was nothing but

  business. When Celeste realized that his concentration was waning, she told

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  him to go home and get a good night’s sleep. He asked her if he could take

  some of the documents home with him, to refresh his memory as to certain

  particular facts. Her answer shocked him.

  “Lonnie, you could be imprisoned or worse ju
st for having these transcripts

  in your possession. If someone in your household found them, a maid, your

  mother, whoever, you would have far too much explaining to do. If you were

  to be stopped by the police on your way home and they found any subversive

  literature on you, there would be hell to pay. You are not properly versed on our

  methods of denial yet. What to say if and when you are stopped, and believe

  me, you will be stopped. One of your first visits will be to a dentist who is

  friendly to our cause. He will perform certain dental surgery on you that will

  provide you with an escape mechanism should you be caught and tortured. A

  hidden cyanide pill under one of your molars. All of us have them. Believe me,

  it is better than living through the hell that they inflict upon their prisoners.

  Both my brothers that were here today have been tortured. Did you wonder

  why Jean Pierre did not speak to you? It is because a local police captain in

  Tucumán thought it would be funny to cut off his tongue when he still refused

  to talk, after two days of beatings and torture. I took care of that bastard

  personally. He never lived long enough to torture anyone else. My other two

  brothers, whom Serge referred to, were lucky. They were blown to bits instantly

  when a government tank sent a shell through the front door of my parents’

  home without warning one night a few years ago. We must always be on guard.

  One never knows who one’s friends are, or who the informants are.

  Tomorrow we will talk of our immediate plans. I will tell you this much

  now, though. You will need a fair bit of money at your disposal. You will get

  your own flat, nondescript, in one of the working-class barrios. You will also

  need a car, something used that will fit into your new surroundings. And your

  clothes…no more designer fashions for you, my preppy clotheshorse. You are a

  man of the revolution now, and you will dress the part. Go home, get some rest.

  I want you here at twelve noon tomorrow. We have a lot to do. Oh, by the way,

  the other new thing that you will need is a new name. Think about that. See if

  you can come up with a good alias for yourself. Nothing too cute, though. Now

  get out of here. I’m tired!”

  Celeste left him standing at the entrance to her flat without so much as

  a handshake. She disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door forcefully

  behind her.

  133

  Chapter ten

  Señor Gordero will see you now, gentlemen.” An immaculately tailored

  business executive stood before the two visitors that waited anxiously in

  the posh reception hall of A.R. Gordero and Sons, SA. The man’s warm

  smile is meant to relax us, Renaldo thought to himself. But by this time, the

  whole atmosphere surrounding the anticipated, yet unexpected, audience with

  Astor Gordero had frayed the boy’s nerves to the point of physical illness.

  Even as Renaldo and Estes Santos entered the Gordero Building, a

  beautiful Parisian-style edifice on the corner of Santa Fe Avenue and Avenida

  Nueve de Julio in the heart of the capital’s financial district, they still could not

  believe that this meeting was actually taking place. Renaldo had awaited the

  news informing him of its cancellation with every ring of the telephone over the

  past fortnight. But such tidings were not forthcoming. So now he and Estes had

  donned their best business suits and proceeded to walk over fate’s threshold.

  What awaited them there was something that neither man had foreseen.

  The beautiful receptionist and her stunning assistant who served them

  coffee during their forty-five-minute wait for some word from the inner sanctum

  only added to the overwhelming atmosphere of monied savoir faire. Had these

  women been in any other situation, Estes would have been all over them, trying

  his macho charm on for size. Not here, though. He sat staring at the same page

  of the morning newspaper for the entire interlude, perspiration dotting his

  brow. The appearance of the nattily dressed executive had ended their tedium,

  but at the same time had increased their terror.

  “I apologize for the delay, gentlemen. Please come this way. Señor Gordero

  had some last-minute details to attend to. I am Herr Wolfgang Stoltz, Señor

  Gordero’s executive assistant. I trust the ladies were attentive to your needs

  while you were waiting?”

  Stoltz led the two men through a single doorway leaving the reception area

  behind, then down a long mahogany paneled hallway covered with priceless

  artwork. Not a single window or door interrupted the continuous flow of fine

  art on polished wood as they proceeded toward an ornate double portal at

  the end of the corridor. It was just outside this entranceway that Herr Stoltz

  stopped and addressed the two visitors.

  “Let me say personally, gentlemen, how grateful I am for your actions that

  day in Cordoba. To risk your own lives to save Señor Gordero was an act of true

  JAMES McCREATH

  heroism. I assure you that neither Señor Gordero nor I will ever forget that.

  Normally, I would have been there, at his side. I handle all Señor Gordero’s

  affairs, both corporate and private. I am also a great fan of the game of football.

  We never miss a Prefect match together. Unfortunately, I had come down with

  a severe case of influenza only the day before the championship final and was,

  therefore, indisposed. Luckily, you gentlemen performed my usual task, which

  often involves getting my employer out of uncomfortable situations. For that,

  once again, I am truly grateful!”

  Renaldo stood silently in the hallway accepting this stranger’s words of

  thanks. The man spoke in precise, clipped sentences, flavored with a heavy

  German accent. Herr Stoltz was, perhaps, in his mid-fifties, around six feet in

  height, his thinning blond hair cropped short and styled to perfection. He wore

  an expensive, double-breasted grey suit, rimless metal-framed glasses, and had

  nurtured a blond, pencil-thin mustache, again trimmed just so. A handsome,

  efficient man, Renaldo concluded , with a touch of Teutonic arrogance thrown in for

  good measure. His words of gratitude having been extended, Herr Stoltz turned

  and led the two nervous saviors through those portals of destiny.

  “Gentlemen, gentlemen, come in, please. It is so good to see you again.”

  With that, Astor Gordero broke into a verse of the Prefect fight song

  that had caused them all so much trouble in Cordoba. He stopped singing

  as he embraced each man in turn, and again welcomed them to his “humble

  establishment.” Neither Renaldo nor Estes had noticed the person sitting in the

  high-backed chair in front of Gordero’s desk.

  “And now, gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Miss Simone Yvonne

  Montana Carta-Aqua. You, perhaps, know of her more prominently by her

  stage name, Symca. My dear, please meet Señor Renaldo De Seta and Señor

  Estes Santos.”

  The lady extended her hand toward the younger of two men in the

  traditional Latin greeting, but the boy did not attempt to grasp it. He simply

  stood there awestruck, unable to move or speak.

  “Allow me, Señorita.” Estes Santos quickly reached for the lady
’s gloved

  hand, raised it to his lips, and caressed it ever so gently. “I am afraid my young

  friend is afflicted with a severe case of idol worship, Señorita. It is a malady that

  has consumed the vast majority of his peers as well. And if the truth be known,

  even a man of my age is aware of the fact that you, Señorita, are the number one

  recording star in all of Argentina. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”

  Estes continued to hold her hand as the charming rhetoric flowed from his

  lips.

  “Thank you, Señor, you are most kind. I hope that the young man will

  be alright, though. Señor Gordero has promised to take us all to lunch once

  your business is concluded, and I would hate for him to miss a meal the likes of

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  which the Jockey Club will provide for us. Perhaps you could bring him some

  water, Wolfgang! Astor, I will now make those phone calls you requested from

  your other office. Don’t be too long, gentlemen, for I am famished, and it is not

  polite to keep a lady waiting.”

  Only Renaldo’s eyes followed the lady’s sultry walk as she left the room,

  for he continued to be unable to move. It was The Fat Man’s insistent prompting

  that brought him back to his senses.

  “Please, gentlemen, please be seated. I have some interesting news for you

  both.”

  Astor Gordero gestured to the chair that his female visitor had just vacated

  and its matching adjacent clone. He nestled his large body into an oversized

  swivel chair that sat behind his mammoth antique desk. Wolfgang Stoltz made

  himself comfortable on a small couch to the visitors’ right, notebook and pen

  in hand.

  “I am sorry that this meeting could not have been held sooner, but that

  in no way diminishes the gratitude that I extend to you both for saving my life

  in Cordoba. It is only due to your swift and unselfish actions that I am sitting

  here today at all. I wanted to make sure that I could show you my appreciation

  to the fullest extent possible. It was only yesterday that I became certain that I

  could give you both what you so richly deserve.

  “Gentlemen, this is a great day for Argentina. It will be announced later

  this afternoon that FIFA’s World Cup Organizing Committee has agreed to