Tyrant Memory (23 page)

By the time I left, Betito had already hightailed it out of there,
surely in hot pursuit of Leonor. I walked a couple of blocks with Doña Chayito;
the sky was cloudy and for a moment there was a light breeze, which made me
think we would soon get the first rain of the season, and we did, a few hours
later. Doña Chayito told me that the struggle to free our family members had
taken second place, and we must now put all our efforts into supporting the
general strike called by the university students, we must convince our friends
and acquaintances to join the strike, close shops and offices so that the
country would cease to function as soon as possible and so the warlock will be
forced to leave. I told her to count on me for anything I can do to help. She
explained that it would be best for me to take advantage of my relationship with
Chente, for the students are taking the lead and it is no longer an issue of
protesting in the streets but rather turning the city into a ghost town,
everyone should remain at home and then only policemen and soldiers will be left
in the streets, wandering about like lost souls.

Lunch at my parents’ was hectic. Uncle Charlie and some of Father’s
friends discussed the negotiations they were holding with the chambers of
commerce and the business owners’ associations to get them to keep paying their
employees even though their places of business remain closed. Monday is May 1,
anyway, a holiday, so the strike will begin on Tuesday, with the bankers taking
the lead in the private sector. I confessed to Father that I feel quite lost in
the maelstrom that has been unleashed. He told me not to worry, I can continue
participating as I have been, passing funds to the student committee so they can
distribute them to bus drivers, taxi drivers, government employees, train
operators, and others, so they can buy food and survive day to day for as long
as the strike lasts. As I was leaving my parents’, I crossed paths with Juan
White, together with Mono Harris and Winall Dalton, who were stopping by for a
visit, rather tipsy for so early in the day. Winall is always quite flirtatious
with me, though respectful, and he always seems like a gentleman to me, though
Pericles says he is nothing but a “lecherous gringo” around whom I should never
lower my guard.

This afternoon, after visiting Don Jorge and Teresita at the
Polyclinic, I stopped by my neighbors, where they were celebrating Rosita’s
birthday, though the party was actually just a front for the doctors to meet to
plan next week’s strike. Raúl told me that I shouldn’t worry, the warlock will
fall before we know it, and we would have Pericles and Clemen with us again.
Chente dropped by, as usual in a rush, and he whispered to me that pharmacists,
justices of the peace, and even market vendors are poised to go on strike, and
that they will need more cash support from the well-to-do. The excitement was so
contagious that even I had a drink.

Now I am home alone. Betito went to a big party at the Club, the
first since the government authorized it to open. I told myself this has to
work, “the man” can’t possibly face everybody down if nobody is standing in
front of him; I also told myself that the coming days are going to be hectic,
even though there won’t be any protests in the street, and we’ll have to keep
our noses to the grindstone to achieve a total moratorium. My only regret is
that this is the last page of my beautiful notebook from Brussels. On Tuesday
I’ll buy another one before the shops close for the strike.

Fugitives (IV)

1:08 p.m.

“It’s hellfire out there, Clemen.”

“What?”

“It’s hellfire . . . Look: nothing moves under this sun shining
straight down like a lead weight. This is what Hell must be like. Luckily, we’re
in the shade of the mangroves . . .”

“I’m thirsty.”

“Again?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Try to get a grip on your anxiety. You just drank some water. If
you don’t control yourself, you’ll finish the little we have left.”

“What’ll we do when we run out of water, Jimmy? How are we going to
get out of this swamp?”

“Calm down. Stop thinking about it.”

“How can I stop thinking about it!? We’re getting dehydrated! Look
at how dry my lips are!”

“If you get all excited you’ll use up more energy and get thirstier.
Just relax.”

“Something must have happened to Mono Harris! Why hasn’t he come,
Jimmy? He said he’d be in San Salvador for only three days and return yesterday,
Saturday, bringing water and more provisions. Now it’s Sunday noon, and we’re
running out of everything . . .”

“There was probably some emergency. But he won’t abandon us. He’ll
be here any minute . . .”

“What if they captured him, huh? What if that soldier got
suspicious, and they’ve got him locked up in a cell somewhere? What will become
of us?”

“They wouldn’t dare arrest Mono Harris. He’s an American citizen.
Anyway, he’s done nothing, except help us.”

“You think that’s nothing!? . . . What if one of the oarsmen turned
him in?”

“The soldiers would have already shown up here.”

“We’ve got to get to dry land, Jimmy. We can’t just wait here till
we die of dehydration.”

“Let’s wait till tomorrow morning early. If Mono Harris hasn’t shown
up by then, we’ll figure out how to get to land.”

“I don’t think our water will last till tomorrow.”

“If you calm down and stop drinking every time you get anxious, it
will.”

“It’s got nothing to do with anxiety. You yourself said it’s like
Hell out here. How am I supposed to not be thirsty!? . . .”

“You’re too agitated. You’re drinking almost twice as much water as
me. Don’t you realize that?”

“‘You’re too agitated! . . .’ How the hell am I supposed to not be?!
I’m going crazy in this boat! This is worse than the attic! At least there, at
the priest’s house, we could go down to the living room and the toilet twice a
day . . . This is horrible, Jimmy! Ten days stuck in this boat eight feet long,
surrounded by salt water, sleeping outside under the worst possible conditions,
trying to protect ourselves from all the bugs, pissing and shitting outside,
like animals! . . . It’s worse than being in prison!”

“Nothing’s worse than being in prison. Don’t forget we wouldn’t be
in prison long, soon enough they’d take us out to face the firing squad . . .
like they did my comrades, and Lieutenant Marín’s civilian brother . . .”

“. . .”

“So, settle down.”

“Poor man. You military men are savages, Jimmy. Mono Harris
said that Marín was unrecognizable from the torture.”

“The torturers are civilian, not military.”

“Don’t give me that shit. If they’re civilians it’s because you guys
have taught them how to torture people . . .”

“I don’t understand your obsession with the military. What about
your grandfather, isn’t he in the military? and your father, wasn’t he in the
military before he became a political journalist . . . ?”

“So what? My father now renounces you . . .”

“Who saved you, Clemen? Who pulled the chestnuts out of the fire for
you when you got in over your head? Your grandfather, right? If it hadn’t been
for him, neither you nor I would be here, we’d probably already have been shot .
. .”

“My grandfather helped me because he is my grandfather. Grandfathers
help their grandchildren. It would be unthinkable for him to behave any other
way . . . What do you think happened to Don Arturo?”

“The last thing Mono Harris told us is that he was wounded and in
the hospital in San Miguel.”

“I know that already. You don’t have to repeat it to me. What I want
to know is if your motherfucking general has shot him.”

“God help us.”

“It’s fucked up to be incommunicado, have no way of finding
out what’s going on. At Don Mincho’s house on the island we could listen to the
radio. We’ve been rotting here in this swamp for ten days with no contact with
the outside world except through Mono Harris. And now the sonofabitch has
disappeared. I can’t take it anymore!”

“Well, you don’t have much choice. And stop crying, it doesn’t do
any good!”

“I’m not crying!”

“Sounds like it to me.”

“Don’t go acting all brave, Jimmy. It doesn’t suit you.”

“We need mental discipline to survive. Spending your time
complaining only makes us weaker.”

“We’re already weak. If you could see yourself in the mirror you’d
feel real sorry for yourself. You look like a scarecrow . . .”

“And you, with your hysteria . . .”

“
Hysteria
? Only you could think up such a degrading word,
Jimmy . . . Hysteria . . . A cigarette is what I need. I haven’t had a smoke in
more than twelve hours. You think that’s nothing? Last night, before I fell
asleep, I smoked my last one. Twelve hours without a cigarette!”

“Because you’re desperate, and anxious. I warned you to smoke less,
I told you something unexpected could happen. Like now, again, I’m warning you
not to drink so much water, because the water is for both of us, not just you.
You could do what you wanted with your cigarettes, but you’re going to have to
be more disciplined with the water, you have to respect that it’s both of
ours.”

“What if Mono Harris doesn’t show up today or tomorrow morning? By
noon we’ll be without a drop, we’ll be more desperate, more hungry and thirsty,
we’ve only got two tins of sardines and those hard-boiled eggs. Why not leave
right now?”

“Because Mono Harris will come, and then he won’t find us, and we’ll
lose touch with him. How many times do I have to tell you . . .”

“What if he never shows up? What’ll we do then?”

“I told you: we’ll try to get to San Nicolás. It won’t be that
difficult. But we run the risk of coming across a National Guard patrol.”

“You sure you know how to get out of this labyrinth of swamps and
canals? Mono Harris said this is one of the most remote canals, the most
difficult to find among the mangroves, that’s why he brought us here. Which
direction is San Nicolás, Jimmy? Tell me!”

“Over there, where we came from . . .”

“You don’t know anything! You don’t have the least fucking idea! We
came from the other direction. I remember perfectly.”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Clemen. Here, the one who has the
training to survive and find his way is me. You’re just a poor slob. That’s why,
when we start for San Nicolás, you’re going to follow my instructions . . . Is
that clear?”

“If you suck my dick . . .”

5:13 p.m.

“Whoever understands you can have you for free, Jimmy.
According to you we were supposed to conserve our energy so we don’t die of
hunger and thirst, so why in the world are you swimming?”

“I need to freshen up. I’m not swimming; I’m floating.”

“Same thing.”

“Not the same thing.”

“It’ll take a water snake or manta ray scaring you to set you
straight . . .”

“Don’t be such a chickenshit, Clemen. I have the feeling you don’t
know how to swim, that’s why you’re so afraid of the water.”

“I’m not afraid of the water; I’m afraid of creatures.”

“I don’t believe you . . . Ever since we got on the canoe you’ve
been shitting your pants . . .”

“A while ago, while you were napping, you muttered the name Faustino
Sosa several times . . .”

“Really? The major?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I must’ve been dreaming about him. But I don’t remember . . .”

“You’ve got a guilty conscience, don’t you, you asshole?”

“Take a dip, Clemen, instead of talking nonsense.”

“You sent him to his death and now you feel guilty.”

“I didn’t send him to his death. I already explained it to you
several times.”

“So why were you dreaming about him?”

“Nobody knows why we dream what we dream . . .”

“You don’t fool me.”

“I’ve got no desire to fool you or justify myself to you . . . The
water is delicious. This is the best time of day to freshen up. But it’s time
for me to get out now.”

“It’s going to get dark soon and Mono Harris hasn’t come . . .”

“I know.”

“And we’re running out of drinking water . . .”

“Move over, Clemen, I want to get back in the boat.”

“All we’ve got left is this one tin of sardines . . . Nothing for
breakfast tomorrow.”

“What about the hard-boiled eggs?”

“There was one left. I ate it while you were taking a nap. My guts
were churning.”

“You’re a disgrace! So I get one sardine more than you.”

“Don’t mess with me, Jimmy. We’ll go halves . . .”

“One extra sardine for me to make up for the egg.”

“What we should do is get the hell out of this swamp and find a
shack where we can get some food and water . . .”

“We agreed to wait till tomorrow morning.”

“I won’t be able to sleep thinking about waking up without food or
water.”

“Don’t be a fool. You’re better off sleeping. Your anxiety will only
make you more thirsty and hungry.”

“Let’s get out of here now, Jimmy, before it gets dark! I’m really
getting desperate . . . It’s useless to wait if Mono Harris isn’t coming.
Tomorrow will only be worse: by then we’ll be dying of hunger and thirst!”

“If we leave now, it’ll get dark when we’re halfway there, we’ll
have to light the lamp, and we’ll be an easy target for the soldiers. I’ve
explained it all to you. We’ll leave at the first light of dawn.”

“The soldiers aren’t going to be riding around at night through
these canals.”

“Oh, yeah? What about the boat that passed right by us the first
night we were here?”

“Those weren’t soldiers . . .”

“We’re not going to discuss this again, Clemen.”

“Let’s eat the sardines, then.”

“We’re going to wait a few hours.”

“Why? I’m hungry now. It’s already getting dark. It’s dinner time.
I’m going to open the tin . . .”

“No. We’ll open it in a few hours so we won’t be so hungry in the
morning.”

“Give me that tin, Jimmy!”

“I said no . . . Don’t be an ass.”

“You’re the ass! Give me that tin! There are four sardines, two
each.”

“I’m not giving you the tin and there aren’t two each. There are
three for me and one for you. Stop fucking . . .”

“God damn sonofabitch!”

“It won’t do you any good to insult me.”

“Okay, so I’ll take a sip of water. I’ve got this burning in the pit
of my stomach. I need to drink something . . .”

“You’re not going to finish the water, either . . .”

“Fuck you, Jimmy! Give me that water!”

“Calm down! We have to ration the water even more, otherwise we’ll
be so weak from thirst we won’t be able to do anything.”

“Give me the damn water, asshole!”

“Stop shouting like a madman! And calm down unless you want me to
break your neck!”

“What, you think I’ve got my hands tied behind my back?! Give me the
water and the sardines!”

“Calm down! You’re going to capsize the boat!”

“Give them to me, you motherfucker!”

“Let go! If you so much as touch me I’ll smash you one, Clemen!”

“Don’t you push me, you piece of shit!”

“Let go of me!”

“Give ’em to me!”

“Oh no, we’re capsizing!”

7:50 p.m.

“You see, there’s enough moonlight for us to navigate. We
can still leave, Jimmy . . .”

“I told you not to talk to me. I don’t want to know you’re
here.”

“There’s no reasoning with you.”

“Shut up!”

“We still have one oar . . .”

“Shut your damn trap . . .”

“We can go near the hamlet and look for the guide’s house, or one of
the oarsmen. I’m sure they’ll give us water and food . . .”

“Do you not understand? Silence!”

“The more time passes, the more desperate we get . . .”

“If you weren’t my cousin, I would have already drowned you . .
.”

“You would be capable of killing me, Jimmy?”

“I’m never going to forgive you . . . Because of you I lost my
gun.”

“It wasn’t only my fault, we both . . .”

“You are a total moron.”

“It wasn’t your gun, anyway, it was Mono Harris’s . . . And it’s
right there, in the water, nobody’s going to get it. Mono Harris can come back
with some fishermen and bring it up in a net.”

“Don’t start again, Clemen, this time I’m not going to be able
to control myself, and you’re going to end up getting very badly hurt . . .”

“There you are, worried about the gun . . . The worst thing is that
we lost our drinking water and the sardines.”

“It’s your fault we have no way to defend ourselves and
nothing to eat or drink. It’s also your fault we lost the lamp and the other oar
. . . You’ve worn out my patience.”

“If you don’t want to row, I could start rowing with this.”

“You’re completely useless. You don’t know how to row. You don’t
know how to do anything. You don’t deserve to live. Any one of my comrades shot
by the firing squad is worth a hundred of you . . .”

“You’re just cross . . .”

“How could I not be?”

“It doesn’t do any good to be angry.”

“Shut your big fat mouth!”

“What are you doing, Jimmy?”

“I’m starting to row, can’t you see?”

“We’re going to San Nicolás then? How great, you finally decided!
Bravo!”

“Don’t get your hopes up . . .”

“What are you doing? Why are you going deeper into the swamp? It’s
dangerous, Jimmy! It’s totally dark!”