Renaldo (31 page)

studying anthropology or some dreadful thing. And Señor Gordero would not

have lined his pockets with the steep legal and management fees he charges

me.”

“Touché,” was Gordero’s only comment, delivered with an innocent half-

smile with his large hands overlapped against his heart.

“In any event, I hear that the entire National Team will be introduced to

the public on the opera house stage that evening, and Astor has informed me

that there is a very good chance that you will be one of those being introduced.

In that case, you won’t need a backstage pass. Just come and knock on my

dressing room door when you arrive.”

“In deference to Señor Gordero, Señorita, I will accept a backstage pass, if

the offer is still open. So much has happened to me today that the only thing

of certainty would be to acquire a tangible piece of paper. At least that way, I

could prove to my friends that I actually met you.”

“Very well, then, I will have Astor arrange to have one sent to you. The

gala is on the evening of January fourteenth. I believe that is the same day that

the World Cup pool draw is taking place to see which countries are grouped

together in the tournament. It should be a very exciting time, don’t you think?”

Her smile held him spellbound. Again the words did not come easily to him.

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“If you are on the stage, then for certain it will be exciting. I heard you

open for the Rolling Stones at River Plate Stadium last year. My seats were so

far from the stage that you looked like a miniature doll, but your music was

amazing! I have collected all your recordings and your television show is a

weekly ritual. My friends and I never miss an episode.”

He was speaking so quickly and with so much enthusiasm that the other

three men at the table interrupted their discussion concerning the astronomically

high price of the World Cup Gala tickets to listen to Renaldo sing the praises

of his celebrity dining companion.

“That Raul Espling is such a snake-in-the-grass on your TV show. You

are always getting hurt by him and turning the other cheek. My friends and

I want to tar and feather him for the things he does to you. Is he that bad in

real life?”

Symca didn’t have an opportunity to respond before the next question left

Renaldo’s lips. “How about Anita Corazon? What is she like in person? Next to

you, well, there is no contest, but she is still a very attractive lady that can really

dance. That hot tango scene in the episode last month was incredible!”

He had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. “Your life must be so

exciting. You do so many different things, and you do them all so well. I still

can’t believe that I am sitting at the same table with the amazing Symca. My

friends will die with envy. That is, if they believe me at all.”

“Well, Renaldo, let’s give them some proof then.” She reached for her

small handbag and retrieved an oversized business card and a small felt marker.

The outer flap of the card was embossed with a pouting, steamy color head

shot of herself. She raised the flap and wrote several words with a flourish, then

pushed the card across the linen tablecloth into Renaldo’s hand.

“It’s a private message. Don’t look at it until you are alone. You wouldn’t

want these old dinosaurs to tease you about it. They would just be jealous.”

Howls of mock protest greeted her last remark. Renaldo slid the card into

his jacket pocket without a glance, although the anticipation of seeing what

she had written was already driving him crazy. It was Astor Gordero that made

him shift his thoughts to the other unbelievable news of the day.

“Now if I could have your undivided attention for just a few minutes,

Señor De Seta, we have some logistical matters to finalize before we go our

separate ways. Firstly, as I mentioned earlier, I have arranged a meeting for

you and Estes with Octavio Suarez in the morning. I know that this is the

holiday season, and Estes has told me that you are to be in Pergamino by

tomorrow evening. I would not postpone the chance to meet with Señor Suarez

in person, if I were you, Renaldo. He will be inundated with endless tasks of

reorganization, and one cannot be certain when he will be able to schedule you

in again. The meeting will be brief, I can assure of that. I’ll tell you what I can

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do. Let me pick both of you up by eight o’clock tomorrow morning. We can go

in my limousine to the stadium, see Octavio, and then, I will have my private

Learjet at your disposal to fly you to Pergamino. You will be there even earlier

than expected. What do you say?”

There was nothing that he could say. The presence of Symca had allowed

him to temporarily forget the ridiculous notion that he would be a member

of Argentina’s World Cup team. The thought of such a thing rendered him

temporarily mute.

“Come on, Renaldo, at least come with me to meet Señor Suarez.” Estes

Santos was leaning across the table, an earnest look on his face as he addressed

the younger man.

“Your mother is already at Buenos Requerdos, and the train that you were

scheduled to take would not have gotten you there until the late afternoon. You

told me that you have already packed and completed your gift shopping, so

there is absolutely nothing to stop you from accepting Señor Gordero’s offer.”

Again Renaldo was unable to respond. It was Symca that interceded to

show him the way.

“Renaldo, fate works in very strange ways. Sometimes it can choose people

for greatness even against their will. Fate chose me for stardom, and now it

seems it has chosen you for something very special as well. I have been in the

entertainment business since I was very young. Can you imagine for a moment

what it must have been like for me as a five year-old to walk out on a stage and

perform before a live television audience? I can still remember how terrified I

was. But I knew that I loved to sing and dance, and everyone was so nice to me,

telling me how talented I was, how pretty I was. It seemed as if the only one

that had doubts about my ability was me.

“You are in the same situation right now. You are the only one that is

doubting what you can accomplish. The professionals, Señor Suarez and Señor

Santos here, have expressed their feelings that you have the talent to make

a contribution. Don’t deny yourself the chance to see if their faith in you is

justified. If they prove to be wrong and things don’t work out . . . well, look at

you. You are young and intelligent, not to mention extremely handsome. You

are also well-educated and wealthy, from what I understand. It is not the end

of the world if you fail to succeed in making the team. But I for one would be

very, very disappointed if you did not at least try to live up to the expectations

of the men whose job it is to capture the World Cup trophy for our country.

Please go and see Señor Suarez, for me, if for no other reason. Believe in yourself,

Renaldo, the way you see others already believing in you!”

She had spoken with such sincerity and passion that he was helpless to

resist her request.

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“Alright, Señorita, for you and you alone, I will see Señor Suarez tomorrow.

But that is as far as this whole thing might go. It is my mother I worry about

more than anything! You see, my father was killed attending a soccer game

in England many years ago, and she absolutely hates the sport and anyone

associated with it. Estes here can tell you about my mother and soccer. It was

only if I kept up straight ‘A’s in school this past year that she would even allow

me to lace on a pair of boots. She actually thought that I was still playing

on the high school team instead of on the semiprofessional under twenty-one

team. When she found out the truth, it was Estes who caught an earful from

her. Thank God that Señor Santos is a charmer with the ladies of world-class

proportions, or I might have had to give up the sport forever. So, we will

see what transpires. I am curious about one thing though, Señorita. It sounds

to me like you are a football fan yourself. You speak of the game with such

enthusiasm. Is that the case?”

Symca smiled seductively at her young admirer, as if she had a deep secret

that she was about to reveal for the first time.

“Well, Renaldo, the truth of the matter is that the very first man I ever

dated was Roberto Camacho, the striker with River Plate. I was only fifteen

at the time, but I fell head over heals in love, not only with Roberto, but

with the game in general and the River Plate club in particular. I am sorry

to say that even after Roberto and I stopped seeing each other, I remained a

fierce supporter of that team. Meeting you and Señor Santos today, however,

might convince me to shift my loyalties to Newton’s Prefects. That is a lady’s

prerogative is it not, gentlemen?”

Hearty laughter greeted her closing remark. Renaldo sank back in his

chair, deep in thought, as Estes Santos picked up the conversation with Symca.

Renaldo was surprised that she had been involved with the great Camacho at

such a tender age. The man was a legendary player, to be sure, but also a fabled

womanizer.

But that was past history. Right now, the young player was intrigued by

the fact that she seemed to have more than just a passing knowledge of his

background, and why the inspiring interest in his future? What had Gordero

said to her about him? Perhaps there was more going on here than met the

eye.

It took only one glance at the lady’s smiling face to make him forget

everything except the card that she had signed for him earlier. The card that

continued to rest close to his heart in the inside breast pocket of his suit

jacket.

Astor Gordero and party were the last patrons to depart the Jockey Club

dining room that afternoon. The waiters and bus boys were busily resetting the

tables for the evening throng that would begin arriving in a few hours. The

maitre d’ and captains remained attentive to Señor Gordero and his vivacious

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companion up to and beyond the entrance foyer of the club. It seemed that a

few of the less discreet patrons who had departed earlier had let the word slip

out that the famous Symca was dining there that day. A crowd of over one

hundred admirers now lined the sidewalk awaiting her departure.

The maitre d’ had arranged for Gordero’s limousine to be waiting at the

curb, but his table captain offered the lawyer the services of the club staff to

form a human wedge as a means of escorting the lady and himself through the

crowd to the safety of his automobile.

“That will not be necessary, Filmon,” Gordero said with a smile while

eyeing the expectant gathering outside. “It is these people that have made

Señorita Symca the star that she is today. We will not deprive them of a chance to

glimpse their idol. Renaldo, Estes, I will see you tomorrow morning, bright and

early, before eight o’clock. I hope you have enjoyed yourselves today, gentlemen.

Adios! Thank you, Filmon. Everything was superb, as usual. Are you ready, my

dear? Well, then, Wolfgang, lead the way! Come, my little beauty. We are off

to meet your makers!”

With a loud laugh and a wave of his arm, they disappeared through the

revolving glass doors. Delighted screams and chants of “Symca, Symca, Symca”

greeted them instantly. Gordero took as much pleasure from all the adulation

as did the young lady for whom it was meant. They took time to sign several

autographs and answer questions about her next album or tour. When they had

finally departed in Gordero’s white Mercedes limousine, the sidewalk in front

of the Jockey Club was littered with flowers and promotional photos that had

gone disappointingly unsigned by the star whose likeness they bore.

Estes and Renaldo were able to slip out into the afternoon sun, completely

unnoticed. They walked half a block before hailing a taxi. Once in the confines

of its rear seat, Estes embraced the younger man with a passion that startled the

cabby and embarrassed the recipient.

“Didn’t I tell you that The Fat Man would come through for us, Renaldo.

I knew it! I knew that he would. God, he has given us both the opportunity

of a lifetime. I am still in shock. A coaching position on our World Cup team.

And you, the new Pelé! I can see the headlines now. ‘Renaldo leads Argentina

to World Cup supremacy.’ You will not disappoint us, my friend, I am certain

of that.” Renaldo struggled to free himself from his coach’s bear hug.

“Cut it out, Estes! Let go of me! Look, I am very happy for you. It is a

position that you richly deserve. You have the experience and the talent to

make a contribution. For my part, this joke ends tomorrow. I am sure that the

luncheon with Symca was my reward for looking out for Gordero in Cordoba.