Renaldo

by James McCreath

  JAMES McCREATH

  How much of this can I disclose to Renaldo? Lonnie’s tormented mind pondered.

  Probably none of it! Why worry the kid half to death when he had so many positive

  things happening in his life right now. No, he must never know what I am about to do.

  I owe him that much.

  “So, are you going to tell me what is bothering you willingly, or will

  I have to steal your clothes and pony? Then you will have to walk back to

  civilization stark-naked and barefoot.”

  Lonnie had to think fast, blurting out the thoughts as they came to him.

  “Well, little brother, it has to do with our mother, and her expectations of

  me, I guess. She wants me to go to law school, become a lawyer, and take over

  management of the family business. She thinks that I should take extra courses

  this summer to accelerate my progress toward the faculty of law. At one time

  I would have probably wanted the same things, but Celeste has changed my

  perception of many things, especially people and their values.”

  There was a strange look in Lonnie’s eyes as he spoke, something that

  Renaldo had never noticed before.

  “She has opened my eyes to the plight of the working people in this

  country, their hardships and suffering. She wants me to travel to Tucumán

  and the provinces with her next week. We would visit her home and meet her

  family, then continue on to the Andes. After that, we plan to turn south to

  Patagonia.”

  Was it pain? Anger? Self-doubt? Renaldo sensed that it could have been any

  or all of these emotions that surfaced as his brother spoke. It certainly wasn’t

  the infatuation of a new romance! Renaldo knew that, just by looking in a

  mirror. He was head over heels in love, but not Lonnie! Lonnie was, different,

  and the message that his older brother conveyed sent shivers up the younger

  boy’s spine.

  “Celeste says that I have never seen how real Argentines live, never

  understood their tragedy. It is shameful that there is so much suffering by our

  less fortunate brothers and sisters in this country today. Only when the common

  people unite for social reform will there ever be a free and just Argentina.”

  Lonnie caught himself just as he was about to launch into the Montonero

  indoctrination sermon. He had to stifle the political rhetoric or Renaldo would

  never believe his story.

  “Anyway, this trip will be of great benefit if I continue on in the political

  philosophy and sociology courses that Celeste has picked out for me next

  semester. So you can see that I am in the middle of a tug of war between the

  two women in my life. Why do they always want to control men?”

  168

  RENALDO

  The final look of sadness on his brother’s face led Renaldo to believe that

  Lonnie still was struggling with his ultimate decision.

  “Don’t ask me. You’re supposed to be the expert! So what will you do? It

  can’t be an easy issue to resolve?”

  “It’s no contest. I am going with Celeste, of course! Just knowing her as a

  student in one of her tutorial classes started to change my values, but once we

  fell in love with each other, well, I can’t stand to be away from her. I guess that’s

  why I haven’t been in the holiday spirit too much lately. I will probably move

  into her flat when we return to Buenos Aires for the start of school, mainly to

  save me from Mama’s badgering. So I won’t be seeing as much of you, little

  brother, in the future either. But it sounds like you have a busy enough agenda

  of your own. I will be calling for my football tickets though. You can count on

  that!”

  Lonnie was confident that Renaldo had accepted his story, and together

  they concocted the family council meeting to confront their mother in unison

  with their plans. There was no sense in dragging the bad news out all week.

  They would get everything out in the open at the same time, and let the cards

  fall where they may. Neither brother was prepared to back down from taking

  his own destiny in his hands, and that process might as well start with their

  relationship with Florencia De Seta.

  For the next three days the brothers returned to Lake Lonfranco to refine

  their plans for the meeting that they had set on the twenty-ninth. It also gave

  them an opportunity to be together for what Lonnie sensed might be the very

  last time.

  A hint of melancholy crept into the mood of their final outing to the lake

  on the afternoon of the twenty-ninth. Although the brothers were expected to

  stay at Buenos Requerdos until after the New Year’s celebration, Lonnie had a

  premonition that the meeting would not go well that evening. If his fears were

  realized, he would be gone from the estancia by the next sunrise, probably

  forever. He had become very close to Renaldo these past few days, and losing

  that bond was the only regret that Lonnie had as they prepared to mount up

  and return to civilization.

  “I want you to know how much being able to talk to you like this has

  meant to me, Renaldo. I will never forget these days we have spent together

  here.” With that, he grabbed his younger brother and embraced him, kissing

  him on both cheeks, then holding him in his arms. Renaldo could not see

  the tears flowing down Lonnie’s face as they stood in silent contemplation for

  several seconds. The older brother then released his grasp and without turning

  to face his sibling, leapt onto his mount. He dug his heels into the pony’s flank

  calling over his shoulder, “Race you to the cattle herds! Last one there has to

  tell mother his news first.”

  169

  JAMES McCREATH

  “Mama, I want you and Gramma to know that I have been invited to try

  out for our National World Cup soccer team, and I would like your blessings to

  explore this great opportunity over the next few months.”

  Renaldo stood in the center of the parlor, addressing the two seated ladies.

  Lonnie, who had won the race to the cattle herd, stood behind his brother,

  leaning against the large stone fireplace.

  They had given the ladies no warning of their intended gathering, simply

  stating at the evening meal that they both had matters of great importance to

  discuss immediately following supper. Oli served coffee and cakes in the parlor,

  and once the ladies were settled in, Renaldo took the floor.

  He remained there for the next thirty minutes, facing a continuous barrage

  of searching questions from his disbelieving mother. Lydia kept her counsel to

  herself, until out of frustration, Renaldo asked for her opinion, hoping to take

  some of the wind out of his mother’s sails.

  “I think you should give it a go! It is a marvelous opportunity for a young

  man to experience, even if you don’t make the team. If training camp starts in

  February, you should have a pretty good idea of where you stand by the time

  university starts in March. Your summer plans were to stay here at the estancia

  and help with the cattle herds. You have done that the past three summers, so

  you are really not missing out on anything special if you return to the capital.

  It is up to your mother, but I see no harm in you followi
ng your dreams, at least

  until university starts.”

  Relief was written all over Renaldo’s face. The icy stare that Florencia was

  directing at her mother-in-law did not go unnoticed by him however.

  “I cannot give you an answer on this matter right away. You have caught

  me totally off-guard, Renaldo, and therefore, it is only fair for you to let me

  ponder the question for a time. You know how I feel about that sport and the

  lecherous people involved in it. You have such a bright academic future ahead

  of you. It really is a mystery why you would want to get involved with that

  peasant’s game at all. I will consider the matter!”

  The lady’s stare would have melted a block of ice as she turned her

  attention to her eldest son.

  “Lonfranco, what do you have to say to us tonight? I hope it is a more

  constructive plan than your brother’s.”

  “No, Mama, I don’t think that you will consider what I have to say to you

  constructive at all.”

  Lonnie had been doing a slow burn listening silently to his mother

  interrogate Renaldo as if he were a five-year-old. He was barely able to hold his

  temper when it was his turn to be heard.

  10

  RENALDO

  “I will not be taking any extra courses this summer, Mama. Celeste and

  I are going to Tucumán to meet her parents, then we will be traveling for the

  balance of the school break. I do not ask for your blessing, for I am not a young

  child that needs it. I am strictly informing you of my intentions, that is all.”

  His tone of voice was off-hand, almost hostile. Even Renaldo was taken

  aback at the forcefulness of his statement. So much for the well rehearsed, kid-

  glove approach they had each agreed to take. Florencia was flushed with anger,

  unable to form a response for several moments.

  “How dare that little whore ruin your life! And you, you thickheaded

  imbecile! Can’t you see that she is just a social climber after your money?”

  Florencia glanced over at her mother-in-law, hoping for a supportive

  gesture. When it was not forthcoming, she leveled both barrels at her son.

  “Men! One sniff of a woman and they become useless. Their minds all

  turn to manure. I had hoped for much better than this for you, Lonfranco. You

  are a great disappointment to me!”

  “Whore? How dare you call Celeste a whore! Why she has more brains in

  her baby toe than you have in that bourgeois head of yours, Mama.”

  Renaldo feared that his brother was on the verge of physical violence. He

  acted instinctively to head off further unpleasantness.

  “Lonnie, calm down a minute, just wait! Mama, it is only for the summer

  that he is talking about. He will still be going back to university. What is the

  harm of him seeing a bit of the country for the summer?” Florencia was beyond

  listening to reason though.

  “You don’t know about women, Renaldo. Just wait until you fall in love.

  Then you will probably come to me with some hairbrained idea like this, too.

  Where is the respect for your family, my sons? Where is your respect for me?”

  “At least we had the courtesy to have this talk with you, Mama. The

  way you put Renaldo down, though, you’re lucky I even stayed around to tell

  you what my plans were. You have to let us go, Mama. We are not children

  anymore. There is a whole world beyond the high walls of your beloved Porteño

  society. It’s a pity you will never let your petit bourgeoisie facade down long

  enough to experience it.”

  One could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. All of the

  brother’s best made plans for a ‘civil’ family chat had blown up in their faces.

  “I am going now, and I won’t be back! When I return to the capital, I

  will send for my possessions. I wish you were not so set in your ways, Mama,

  for it will bring you nothing but heartache. And if I ever hear you call Celeste

  a whore again, I will kill you! Do you understand me?”

  Lonnie was shaking with rage as he turned and fled the parlor without

  saying another word. Renaldo watched in total disbelief, too shocked to make

  amends for his brother’s lack of tact.

  11

  JAMES McCREATH

  Lydia tried to reassure the younger woman not to put much stock in her

  impetuous son’s passion-driven insults. Florencia rose slowly from her chair,

  looked at the two remaining family members, shook her head sadly and started

  toward her bedroom. When she was almost out the doorway, she turned to

  address Renaldo and Lydia.

  “This is a sad day for our family, a very sad day! I had so much hope for

  my sons. Now, now things will never be as I had dreamed. I have failed as a

  mother! When my own flesh and blood threatens to take my life, I have failed

  as a mother. This is a black, black day!”

  12

  Chapter thirteen

  Astor Gordero speaking. Is that you, Renaldo?”

  “Yes, Señor Gordero, I am back in Buenos Aires, and I thought that

  we might talk about you handling my affairs while I am with the

  World Cup team.”

  “Certainly, my boy, let me check my schedule here. Just one moment. Oh

  . . . um . . . let’s see. With the World Cup draw only a few days away, things

  are quite hectic, as I am sure you can imagine. Aah, can you be at my office at

  eight tomorrow morning? I can have breakfast sent in for us. How does that

  sound to you?”

  “I am at your disposal, Señor Gordero. Eight o’clock is fine for me.”

  “Good boy, Renaldo! I am thrilled that you have called me. I look forward

  to seeing you tomorrow. Good-bye till then.”

  Astor Gordero wasn’t the only one that was thrilled. After the week that

  Renaldo had spent in Pergamino, he was beginning to believe his mother’s

  rantings about his own ability and his right to even set foot on the same turf as

  Argentina’s proven football heroes.

  She had never let up. Each time that mother and son had come into

  contact, the lady would start to harangue her offspring again. Luckily, she was

  not feeling terribly well and kept to her bedroom for extended periods.

  Even at that, Florencia looked terrible when she did make an appearance.

  It was as if Lonnie had put a pistol to her temple and pulled the trigger. His

  words and actions had struck at the very core of her being, and Renaldo knew

  that the excessive abuse he was enduring now was a result of a mother’s broken

  heart.

  He was the only one left to take out her frustrations on, and Florencia was

  not about to make things easy for him. When he had approached his mother

  about his plans to return to the capital, Florencia told him that she and the staff

  would be staying in Pergamino indefinitely. When he had asked permission to

  return to Casa San Marco to tie up some loose ends, he was informed that other

  than a cleaning lady and a part-time gardener, there would be no one there to

  care for his needs.

  “Go if you must!” was her abrupt farewell. She did watch, however, from

  her bedroom window as Olarti drove her youngest son down the tree-lined

  entrance drive and out of sight, away from her influence and out of her life.

  JA
MES McCREATH

  The rattle and shake of the old Ford pickup seemed to symbolize the

  upheaval in Renaldo’s young life as he headed for the Pergamino train station.

  His heart was heavy with sorrow for his mother’s lament, and yet buoyant about

  his own personal opportunities. He had cut the apron strings, but he had also

  made a silent pledge to make the person that wore the apron proud of him.

  The phone call to Astor Gordero had been the easier of the two calls that

  Renaldo intended to make upon arriving at Casa San Marco. The second call,

  the one he really dreaded, seemed to take too much effort. How many times

  had he dialed the first six digits of her number, 555-739 . . . only to hang up

  the receiver before touching that feared number ‘9’ a second time to complete

  the call?

  What if she rejected him? Or was cool and offhand with him? He must

  stay focused on his football preparations. He had been following the regimen

  in Octavio Suarez’s binder to the letter. Training exercises, diet, even shooting

  balls into the old goals that his grandfather had erected ages ago on the Buenos

  Requerdos soccer field.

  It was when he tried to immerse himself in the sections of the binder

  which dealt with the manager’s weighty football philosophy that his mind kept

  wandering back to her essence. Renaldo’s mental preparation was proving to

  be much more challenging than his physical preparation. He just couldn’t get

  Symca out of his thoughts. But actually phoning her was an even harder task

  to accomplish.

  In the end, he simply rationalized that one successful phone call was

  enough for the first night at Casa San Marco, and that if things went well with

  Señor Gordero tomorrow, he would be sufficiently elated to consummate the

  dialing of her number.

  Again, it was Wolfgang Stoltz that met the young player in the reception

  hall of A.R. Gordero and Sons at eight a.m. sharp the following morning.

  Renaldo was not kept waiting for more than thirty seconds this time.

  They passed down the same mahogany hallway as before, then were

  greeted by two waiters in white waist coats and black ties as they entered Astor

  Gordero’s office. The Fat Man was nowhere to be seen at the moment, but

  judging by the appearance and aroma of the foods that completely covered the