B004QGYWDA EBOK (18 page)

“Yes,” Alberto said, “you’re right. Teach me the mambo.”

“Okay,” Babe said, “but first let me smoke a cigarette. You can dance with Pluto till I finish.”

Emilio yawned and nudged Pluto with his elbow. “Get up and show your stuff, you’re the king of the mambo.” Pluto laughed. He had a splendid laugh that shook his whole body.

“Yes or no?” Alberto asked peevishly.

“Don’t get sore,” Pluto said. “I’m coming.”

He stood up and went over to put on a record. Babe had lit a cigarette and was tapping his foot to the rhythm of some song he remembered.

“Listen,” Emilio said, “there’s something I don’t understand. You were the first one that started dancing, I mean during the first parties in the neighborhood when we began to go around with the girls. Have you forgotten?”

“That wasn’t dancing,” Alberto said. “It was just hopping around.”

“We all started out the same way,” Emilio said. “But then we learned how.”

“But he stopped going to dances for a long time,” Pluto said. “Don’t you remember?”

“That’s right,” Alberto said. “That’s what messed me up.”

“It looked as if you wanted to become a priest,” Pluto said. He had finished picking out a record and was turning it over and over in his hands. “You hardly even left the house.”

“Bah,” Alberto said. “It wasn’t my fault. My mother wouldn’t let me.”

“And now?”

“Now she does. Things are getting better between her and my father.”

“I don’t get it,” Babe said. “Where does he come into it?”

“His father’s a Don Juan,” Pluto said. “Didn’t you know? Haven’t you seen him when he comes back at night, how he wipes his mouth with his handkerchief before he goes inside?”

“Yes,” Emilio said. “We saw him once in La Herradura. He had a real beautiful dame with him in his car. He’s a lady-killer, all right.”

“He’s a good looker,” Pluto said. “And a sharp dresser.”

Alberto nodded with a pleased expression.

“But what’s that got to do with their not letting you go to parties?” Babe asked.

“When my father starts running wild,” Alberto said, “my mother keeps me in so I won’t be like him when I’m older. She’s afraid I’ll be another skirt-chaser, a heller.”

“Great,” Babe said. “She’s all right.”

“My father likes the women too,” Emilio said. “Sometimes he doesn’t come home at all, and his handkerchiefs always have lipstick on them. But my mother doesn’t care. She laughs and says, ‘You old tomcat.’ Ana’s the only one who bawls him out.”

“Look,” Pluto said, “when are we going to dance?”

“Wait a minute, man,” Emilio said. “Let’s talk a little. We’ll get more than enough dancing at the party.”

“Every time we talk about the party,” Babe said, “Alberto turns pale. Don’t be such a fool, man. This time Helena’s going to say she’ll go around with you. I’ll bet you anything you want.”

“Do you think so?” Alberto asked.

“He’s head over heels in love,” Emilio said. “I’ve never seen anybody so far gone. I could never do what he did.”

“What did I do?” Alberto asked.

“You asked her twenty times.”

“Just three,” Alberto said. “What are you exaggerating for?”

“I think he’s right,” Babe said. “If he likes her, he should keep after her until she agrees. He can take it out on her afterward.”

“But haven’t you got any pride?” Emilio asked. “When a girl turns me down I go for another one right away.”

“She’s going to listen to you this time,” Babe said to Alberto. “The other day we were talking at Laura’s house and Helena asked about you. You should’ve seen her blush when Tico asked her, ‘Do you miss him?’”

“Honest?” Alberto asked.

“Head over heels in love,” Emilio said. “Look at the way his eyes shine.”

“What’s probably the matter is you’re not asking her the right way,” Babe said. “You’ve got to make an impression on her. Do you know what you’re going to say?”

“More or less,” Alberto said. “At least I’ve got an idea.”

“That’s important,” Babe said. “The best thing is to have your whole speech ready in advance.”

“It all depends,” Pluto said. “I’d rather make it up as I go along. When I first meet a girl I feel nervous but as soon as I start talking I get a million ideas. The sound of my voice inspires me.”

“No,” Emilio said, “Babe’s right. I get everything ready too. If you do that, all you have to worry about is how you’re going to say it, how you’re going to look at her, when you’re going to take her hand.”

“You’ve got to have it all in your head,” Babe said. “If you get a chance, try it out in front of your mirror.”

“Yes,” Alberto said. He hesitated for a moment. “What do
you
say?”

“It’s not always the same,” Babe said. “It depends on the girl.” Emilio nodded in agreement. “You can’t ask Helena straight out if she’ll be your girl friend. First you’ve got to soften her up.”

“Maybe that’s why she turned me down,” Alberto said. “The last time, I just asked her all of a sudden if she’d like to be my sweetheart.”

“You were an idiot,” Emilio said. “And besides, you asked her in the morning. And out in the street. You must’ve been crazy.”

“I asked a girl during Mass once,” Pluto said, “and it worked out fine.”

“No,” Emilio said. He turned to Alberto. “Look, get her to dance with you tomorrow. Wait till they play a bolero. Don’t ask her during a mambo. It’s got to be more romantic.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Babe said. “When you’re all ready, give me a signal and I’ll put on Leo Marini’s ‘I Love You.’”

“That’s my bolero!” Pluto cried. “Every time I’ve asked a girl while we were dancing to ‘I Love You,’ she’s told me yes. It never fails.”

“All right,” Alberto said, “I’ll give you a signal.”

“Get her to dance with you and don’t let her get away,” Emilio said. “Steer her to a corner without her noticing it. That’s so the other couples won’t hear you. Then whisper in her ear, ‘Helenita, you’re driving me crazy.’”

“You imbecile!” Pluto shouted. “Do you want her to turn him down all over again?”

“Why?” Emilio said. “I always start out that way.”

“No,” Babe said, “that’s too crude, too clumsy. First you have to look very serious and tell her, ‘Helena, I’ve got something very important to say to you. I like you a lot. In fact, I’m in love with you. Do you want to go around with me?’”

“And if she doesn’t say anything,” Pluto added, “ask her, ‘Helenita, don’t you care for me at all?’”

“And then you squeeze her hand,” Babe said. “Slowly, with lots of tenderness.”

“Don’t look so pale, man,” Emilio said, giving Alberto a pat on the back. “Don’t worry, this time she’ll say yes.”

“That’s right,” Babe said. “You’ll see.”

“And after you ask her,” Pluto said, “we’ll gather around and sing ‘Here Are Two Sweethearts.’ I’ll see to that, I give you my word.”

Alberto smiled.

“But right now you’ve got to learn the mambo,” Babe said. “Go on, your partner’s waiting for you.”

Pluto was holding his arms out theatrically.

Cava said he was going to be a soldier, but not in the infantry, in the artillery. He hasn’t talked about it lately but he must’ve been thinking about it. Those peasants are stubborn, when they get an idea in their head it stays there. Almost all the soldiers are peasants. I don’t think anybody from the coast would think of being a soldier. Cava’s got the face of a peasant and a soldier, and now they’ve screwed him out of everything, the Academy, his army career, that’s what must hurt the most. The peasants have bad luck, something’s always happening to them. Just on account of some dirty squealer that we’ll probably never find, they’re going to rip off his insignia in front of everybody, I can see it, how it’s going to be, and it gives me the shivers to think that if my number’d come up I’d be the one in the guardhouse. But I wouldn’t’ve broken the glass, you have to be stupid to do that. The peasants are kind of stupid. It must’ve been because he was scared, though that peasant Cava isn’t any coward. But this once he got scared, it’s the only way to explain it. Besides his bad luck. All the peasants have bad luck, the worst things are always happening to them. It’s good luck not to be born a peasant. And the hard part is, he wasn’t expecting it, nobody was, he was feeling fine, he kept baiting that fairy Fontana, you always have a good time in French class, he’s a real character, that Fontana. The peasant said, Fontana’s all sort of: he’s sort of short, sort of blond, and sort of like a man. His eyes are bluer than the Jaguar’s, but they’ve got a different look in them, half serious, half mocking. They say he isn’t a Frenchman, he’s a Peruvian trying to pass as a Frenchman, and that means he’s a son of a bitch. I don’t know anything worse than betraying your country. But it’s probably a lie, because where do they get all these things they tell about Fontana? Every day there’s something new. Maybe he isn’t even queer, but where did he get that high voice, and those gestures that make you want to pinch his cheeks? If it’s true he’s trying to pass as a Frenchman, I’m glad I’ve given him a bad time. I’m glad they all give him a bad time. And I’ll keep it up until the last day of classes. Señor Fontana, how do you say “pile of shit” in French? Sometimes you have to feel sorry for him, he isn’t a bad guy, just kind of odd. He started crying one day, I think on account of the razor blades. Everybody brought a razor blade to class and stuck it in a crack in his desk and the Jaguar said you make them play by just plucking them with your finger. Fontana kept opening and closing his mouth but all you could hear was zoom, zoom, zoom. We didn’t laugh, so as not to lose the rhythm, and the fairy went on opening and closing his mouth, zoom, zoom, zoom, louder and louder, everybody together, let’s see who gets tired first. We kept it up for three quarters of an hour, maybe more. Who’s going to win, who’s going to be the first to give up? Fontana pretended nothing was happening, he opened and closed his mouth like a deaf and dumb person, and the concert got prettier all the time. Finally he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he was crying. He’s a fairy. But he still kept trying to talk, he didn’t give up. Zoom, zoom, zoom. Then he left the classroom and everybody said, “He’s gone to call the lieutenant, we’re going to get screwed for sure,” but the good thing about it was he just went away. They bait him every day and he never calls the officers. He must be afraid they’ll hit him, the best thing is not to look like a coward. Sometimes it almost seems as if he likes to have them bait him. Fairies are sure odd. But he’s a good guy, he never flunks anyone in the exams. It’s his own fault they bait him. What’s he doing in a school for he-men with that voice of his and those fairy gestures? The peasant makes it rough for him all the time, he really despises him. He starts in on him the minute he comes in the classroom. How do you say “fairy” in French, teacher? Do you like to polish the knob? You must be very artistic, teacher, why don’t you sing us something in French in that lovely voice of yours? Teacher, your eyes are exactly like Rita Hayworth’s. And the fairy always replied, he always answered, but in French. Look, teacher, don’t be a wise guy, don’t insult us, I challenge you to a boxing match, Jaguar don’t be discourteous. The thing is, they’ve got him screwed, we’ve got him under our thumb. One day we spit all over him while he was writing on the blackboard, he was all covered with slime, Cava said “How repulsive, he ought to take a bath before he comes to class.” But that time he did call the lieutenant, that was the only time, what a fool he made of himself, that’s why he never called the officers again, Gamboa’s really something, we all found out what he’s made of. He looked him up and down, what suspense, nobody even breathed. And what would you like me to do, Señor? You’re in charge here in the classroom. It’s very easy to make them respect you. Watch. Then he looked at us for a moment and said Attention! Goddamn, in less than a second we were on our feet. Kneel down! Goddamn, in less than a second we were on the floor. Duck-walk in your places! and we all began duck-walking. It lasted more than ten minutes, I think. I felt as if somebody’d pounded my knees with a crowbar, one, two, one, two, very serious, like ducks, till Gamboa said Halt! Does anybody want to have it out with me, man to man? Not even the flies moved. Fontana looked at him and couldn’t believe it. You’ll have to make them respect you yourself, Señor, they don’t appreciate good manners, you have to get tough with them. After he left, we started saying “You little queer” without moving our lips. That’s what Cava was doing this afternoon, he’s sort of a ventriloquist, he doesn’t move his lips at all but his voice comes out good and clear, even if you’re watching him you can’t believe it. While Cava was doing that, the Jaguar said, “They’re coming to get Cava, they’ve found out all about it.” He started laughing and Cava looked all around, so did Curly and I, what’s the matter. Just then Huarina appeared in the doorway and said, “Cava, come with us. Excuse me, Señor Fontana, but it’s an important matter.” The peasant’s a good guy, he got up and went out without looking at us and the Jaguar said, “They don’t know who they’re messing with,” and he began to curse Cava, that shitty peasant, he got screwed because he’s so stupid, it was all about the peasant, as if it was his fault they were going to expel him.

He had forgotten the tiny, identical acts that made up his life in the days following his discovery that he could not trust his mother either; but he had not forgotten the discouragement, the bitterness, the resentment and the fear with which his heart was filled. The worst thing was to have to pretend. Earlier, he waited for his father to leave the house before getting out of bed. But one morning someone pulled the sheets off him while he was still asleep. He felt cold, and opened his eyes to the clear light of the dawn. Then his heart stood still: his father was looking down at him with the same fire in his eyes as on that night. He heard him say, “How old are you?”

“Ten.”

“Are you a man? Answer me.”

“Yes,” he stammered.

“Get out of that bed, then,” the voice said. “Women are the only ones who spend the day in bed, they’re lazy but they’ve got a right to be because they’re women. They’ve brought you up like a little girl. But I’m going to make a man out of you.”