Boy Kills Man (10 page)

Alberto was several sizes bigger than Beatriz, and somehow that made it impossible to dodge a direct question. Even if I could cover for him when his sister pressed me for the truth, I couldn't lie to his face. I leaned in over the table, inviting him to come closer.

‘You've got to promise you won't freak out if I tell you.'

He said nothing, didn't swear on it as I had hoped, but his expression hardened. It was too late to go quiet now. I glanced around him, just to check Galán wasn't right there at the door waiting for me to speak. If he overheard us talking business, I worried that Alberto's boss would get to hear about it. So when I spoke, I barely moved my lips.

‘Beatriz knows you're packing.'

‘Oh man! You told her?'

‘Me? I didn't breathe a word!'

‘But how else could she know?'

‘Just keep calm.' I paused to gesture at the door. ‘Otherwise people will hear like they do in our block.' Alberto looked uncomfortable. He rubbed his forearm, like the temperature had dropped all of a sudden.

‘Who else knows,' he asked. ‘Please tell me, not Mamá?'

‘It's only a matter of time,' I reasoned with him. ‘You can't wear a gun and hope nobody's going to notice. Same with the tattoo.'

‘That's
my
business!' he snapped, looking like he didn't care who heard him now, but I told him he was wrong. ‘It affects me just as much, Alberto. You can't just leave us behind and expect nothing to change.'

He opened his mouth to attack me, closed it again, and then dropped back by a foot. ‘
Mierda!
What am I going to do?'

What happened next surprised me as much as Alberto. I set down the sugar shaker, and said: ‘Take me with you.'

‘What?'

‘Next time you get the call, bring me along for the ride.'

‘Sonny, what's the boss going to think if he finds out I've been telling people about the stuff I do for him?'

‘But you told
me!
' I argued, struggling to keep my voice in check. ‘You told me and I have to live with it. I'm the one left to deal with my family and yours, and that's not fair. We're supposed to be equals, after all. You always said we didn't need to be in a gang, but that counts for nothing when you get all the breaks. Please Alberto. You can trust me. I've proved I can look after a gun so I'm asking you from the heart … get me some work.'

I was breathless when I finished, I guess because it had all come pouring out. I knew it was what I wanted, but only because I had put it into words at last. This wasn't just about being left behind, I realised now I had spoken. It was about staying friends for life.

Alberto was focused on some imaginary point midway between us. He seemed to be replaying everything I had just said. Finally, he broke off to click the door shut.

‘You need money, right? How many times do I have to say it, Sonny? You only have to ask.' He reached for his wallet, and began leafing through the notes inside. I had never seen so much cash before. ‘What do you need? Enough to stop packing peanuts for a living? That's fine. Give me a figure, we can go to the mall. Do something nice. All the stores are selling souvenirs for tomorrow's match. We could get ourselves a programme already.'

‘I don't want your money,' I snapped. ‘And please stop buying me gifts because it doesn't make things better. Alberto, I need to
earn
my way, like you. I want the same kind of options.'

‘What options?'

‘Alberto,' I scoffed. ‘I can't choose what channel to watch on the TV without old Jairo climbing all over my back! You have the right to decide who lives and
dies
for Christ's sake!'

‘It isn't a choice,' he said, quietening down now.

‘But you can leave!' I argued. ‘If you wanted you could use that gun to help start all over again. I don't have that choice. If things go from bad to worse, all I can do is deal with it the best I can.'

‘And where do you think I should go, Sonny? Seeing that you got it all worked out?'

I drew breath to remind him about what he had once said about climbing the mountains just to see what was on the other side. It had been his dream, after all, but he was glaring at me now, like he was here to stay.

‘Take me on a job,' I said again. ‘Then maybe we can move on together, like it should be.'

Alberto looked pained. Deep creases appeared across his brow as he thought things through.

‘I have to be at the square in half an hour,' he said finally. ‘Things are a little crazy right now.
El Fantasma
says it always kicks off before a big match, I guess because it stirs the blood.'

Without another word, Alberto reached for the door once more and jerked it open. Sure enough, there was Galán listening in from the other side just as I had suspected. Alberto tutted at the storekeeper, who retreated to the counter as if my friend owned the place now.

‘What do you think
El Fantasma
will make of me?' I asked them both, because it was clear the storeowner had heard every word.

‘What can I say?' Galán touched his chest with his fingertips. ‘I already made one introduction.'

Alberto turned back to me, struggling to look upbeat as ever.

‘The boss is a big Nacional fan,' he said, and gestured for me to follow him. ‘So I guess we're all on the same side.'

‘Eh, Sonny!' this was Galán. We turned to find him standing with his palms spread now. ‘What about the peanuts?'

‘Later,' said Alberto, and glanced at me. ‘My brother here never let anyone down yet.'

The man with the dead eye was called Manu. For the first time since he pulled up into our lives, I found him looking directly at me. I was standing in front of the fountain, watching from a distance. Alberto had instructed me to keep back when the green Dodge turned into the square, and I did exactly as I was told. My friend had leaned in on the driver's side, talked for ten seconds or so, and then pointed at me. Despite that strange look he had, Manu left me in no doubt that he was scoping me out.

I leaned back against the wall of the fountain, tried to keep cool like I didn't give a damn. A cigarette burned between my fingers, but the truth was I felt too sick to smoke it. The afternoon was still and quiet, but so hot I found it almost hurt to be outside. Shuttered stores and lobby doors surrounded the square, with little green and white flags strung between windows. The place was deserted, closed down for lunch, but most probably in between parties. I tried not to think that it meant I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

‘The name's Sonny,' I muttered to myself, practising what I would say to him. ‘I won't let you down.'

The line sounded good to me, just as it did when Alberto had said it in Galán's store. When my friend dipped back to the driver's window again, I hoped maybe he was going to tell him direct. I had no idea what was actually being said, but Alberto bought his hands into the conversation this time and I could hear their voices rising.

‘Tell him what I did for you,' I said under my breath. ‘Tell him I can be trusted.'

It began to sound bad, the way the pair of them tried to talk over each other. Then Alberto sprung from the conversation and crossed towards me. He kept his head down all the way over, his lips pressed tight together.

‘Not today,' was all he said, coming close like he didn't want to be overheard.

‘But he took
you!
' I declared. I just wasn't prepared for this. Alberto had been chosen, so why not me?

Manu began to gun the big engine as we spoke. Alberto glanced over his shoulder, and waved like he'd only be a moment more. He didn't seem to realise how much I wanted this. ‘Maybe next time,' he said. ‘Another day, yeah?'

‘I'm ready
now,
' I argued, frantic all of a sudden. I had watched that taxi drive away too many times with Alberto in the back seat. Now I really needed to be there beside him, even if it meant falling out about it first. Maybe I was being selfish and unreasonable, but I couldn't help myself. Manu punched the car horn next, yet I refused to let my friend go. I stood square, my heart racing, and searched his expression for cracks.

‘Sonny,' he said eventually, with a tired-sounding sigh. ‘I don't make the decisions. I just do what I'm told. Least you can do what you want with your day, even if it doesn't come to much. You don't have to squeeze your eyes shut at any time. You're free.'

‘Free from what?'

Alberto didn't have a chance to explain himself, for Manu bellowed his name across the square.

‘I'm out of here,' he insisted. ‘But hey, it's nearly tomorrow. Who cares about today? When those turnstiles open, I want to be first into the stadium!'

‘Alberto, forget about the football for just a second—'

‘Swear to me you got my ticket, still.'

‘You
know
that already!' I was desperate not to lose out, but angry too. It made me feel even worse about keeping on at him, but this was all about loyalty now. ‘I can't face another afternoon on my own,' I confessed. ‘All I do these days is wait, and I could be out there making things happen. Talk to him again, Alberto. I'm begging you!'

The sound of a car door snapping open made us both jump. Manu climbed out of the car, and spat furiously at his feet. Alberto seemed totally torn. He looked back at me, and I really thought I had got through this time. Then he clapped me on the shoulder, and all the fight threatened to leave me too.

‘Keep those tickets safe, brother of mine,' was what he said. ‘I trust you more than anyone.'

‘I don't want you to go,' I pleaded, and that stopped him good. My vision began to thicken and swim. I blinked back tears, hoping he wouldn't notice. Manu yelled at Alberto to get his sorry ass into the cab, but this time he ignored him. I swallowed hard, hoping my voice wouldn't crack up on me. ‘Alberto, if you're in trouble why don't you stick around? We can make everything like it used to be.'

My friend considered what I had said for what seemed like an age. Even Manu fell quiet, and then returned to his car when Alberto shook his head at me. ‘I got wings and a Smith and Wesson,' he said, and made a point of rolling his shoulders before turning for the Dodge. ‘Even God can't touch me now.'

I felt ashamed of myself for much of the afternoon. Every time I put myself in Alberto's shoes, I saw a snot-nosed kid in front of me who couldn't take care of himself. It was only when the sun began to set that my anger started rising. People were coming out to begin a great fiesta, but I just didn't feel I could join in, and that's when I started cursing his name again. I even went back to the store to finish bagging the peanuts, only to find Galán had locked up early and pulled down all the shutters. The fireworks began to bloom soon after dark, lifting into the night sky from every direction. It felt like the whole of Medellín was in high spirits except me.

I went home around seven o'clock, found Jairo out cold in front of the box with a Nacional scarf draped round his shoulders. He was slumped back in his seat with his bandaged foot on the table and his mouth wide open. It looked like Alberto had come back and put a bullet down his throat. That he was wheezing made it clear he would still be here to catch the match, while the bottle in front of him warned me to be out of sight when he finally surfaced. Even so, I wondered if I'd feel this numb had I really found him dead in front of his favourite
telenovela.
He didn't stir when I switched it off, and for a while I just sat opposite him, amazed that all the firecrackers and the singing from the streets below couldn't wake him.

It was the eve of the big match, and I had never felt this low in my life. I figured Alberto wouldn't be away for ever, but I refused to call for him. He had let me down badly, I decided, and if our friendship meant anything to him now then he would have to work hard to make up for it. I stretched my feet under the table, and just stared at the bad foot in front of me. I was bored and fed up, which was what persuaded me to take a slug from the bottle. Jairo liked to switch between Colombian beer and cheap brand
aguardiente.
He drank spirits when times were really tough for him, usually this firewater. I never had understood how a drink could help you to forget about your troubles, but the first slug changed all that for me.
Ave Maria!
It practically ignited inside my guts! Even so, it made a change from the joints Alberto had been so keen to roll, so I tipped the bottle to my lips again.

Part of me worried that my uncle would notice that the bottle was lighter when he next poured himself a glass, but slowly that fear faded. I just sat there, sipping every now and then, wishing I could switch him off. He wasn't snoring. That would've been bearable. It was more of a rattle that started too deep down to be in his throat, and I quickly decided that the noise was too much for me.

‘Let me play you some Nirvana,' I suggested playfully, aware that I could say anything while he was in this state. ‘Actually, just shut up and listen!'

My uncle had finished taping up the beat box, and I was pleased to discover that it still worked OK. The bust-up speaker rattled a bit, but Kurt Cobain made up for that. Jairo didn't twitch even when I turned it up some, so I kicked back with my feet on top of the table just like him. My uncle was totally out of it and remained that way for the next half an hour. He only looked like he might wake up when a knock at the door interrupted our private party. I lunged forward to kill the volume, and that was what disturbed him. It also meant whoever was outside knew that I was in.

It had to be Alberto, I thought to myself, but I was damned if I was going to open up just like that. No way. Now that I knew he would come round I decided he should pay a price for one night only. My uncle groaned and smacked his lips but soon settled back into his slumber. Seconds later, on hearing footsteps return to the stairs, I reached for the bottle again.