The Blue Line (9 page)

THE VISE

Austral Winter

1976

E
legantly dressed in a navy suit and white blouse, Mama Fina sat toying with her pearl necklace as she waited for Julia in her living room. They sat facing each other, so close that their knees were touching.

“It's the inner eye again,
mi amor
.”

“Yes, I thought so. Tell me.”

“It was you. I recognized your face. You were walking toward a toilet bowl at the end of a long, narrow room. You bent over it. I saw your face reflected in the water.”

“Are you sure it was me?”

“Absolutely certain. There was a skylight above your head, and your reflection was clear. You threw up. Everything. Bile and blood.”

Julia gave a faint smile.

“When you turned around, I realized it was a prison. A man opened the door of the cell; he was wearing a uniform. I think he was a police corporal. I went to check this morning with my friend Angelini, but he wasn't at the station. I'll go back tomorrow. I'm not as good at drawing as you are, but I'll do a sketch. I got a good look at his face. He had a round head and pockmarked skin. It must have been evening, because the corridor light was on.”

They leaned even closer to each other.

“He spoke to you very harshly and you crouched down on the floor. He kept striking you with the butt of his rifle. Then he turned around abruptly and left, leaving the door ajar. You hesitated for quite some time, then you climbed onto the toilet and looked out through the skylight before going out into the corridor. There was another cell next to yours with two women lying on the floor, covered in blood and with open wounds. They must have been unconscious, because when you shook the bars of the door, they didn't react. There were several doors on the other side of the corridor. You pressed your face against the three doors at the far end and whispered into each cell, then you ran to the fourth door and banged on it furiously. You stopped suddenly, raced back to your cell, and sat down where you'd been sitting before.

“Three guards came running. The one who'd hit you locked the door of your cell while the others hurried to open the fourth door. You could see everything from where you were sitting, because it was diagonally across from you.

“
Mi amor
, I'm sure I recognized Theo. But he was totally disfigured. He must have been conscious, because he was trying to say something, but his eyes and lips were swollen, and his nose had been broken. He couldn't walk on his own. Two of the guards held him up while your guard hit him repeatedly. They dragged him to the end of the corridor, to the top of a staircase. . . .”

“And then?”

“That's all I saw.”

Julia was livid. She felt overcome by an inexplicable anger. All she wanted to do was run away and shout that it wasn't true, that it wasn't her, and it wasn't Theo.

“What do you expect me to do about your vision, Mama Fina? I don't even know what you're talking about!”

Mama Fina hugged her close, despite Julia's reluctance to be held. She had done as she always did. She couldn't spare her the shock.

“There's no room for emotions in this equation. We both know that what I saw you will see in the future. We have to prepare for it.”

“Yes,” Julia conceded, trying to pull herself together.

“It was a prison: a cell, guards, metal bars.”

“Yes,” Julia repeated.

“We also know that Videla has seized power and that his objective is to wipe Peronism off the face of the earth.”

“Yes.”

“Therefore, if Theo and you are arrested, you won't come back alive.”

Julia remained silent.

“My vision could become reality the moment you leave here. We don't know if we'll have another chance to discuss it.”

“Yes, Mama Fina,” Julia said, realizing her grandmother had already come up with a plan.

“First you'll need to memorize the images I just described. That way, when you're throwing up in your cell and you see your reflection in the water, with the light from the skylight behind you, you'll remember that on the night when the corporal comes to beat you, you'll have a few minutes to make your escape.”

“I won't leave without Theo.”

“Okay, but you know where he'll be and in what state.”

“I won't leave without him.”

“Focus on getting out, period. Even if you and Theo are both stark naked. In my experience, it's little things like these that can block our survival instinct.”

“You think these are little things, what you're describing to me?”

“Fear of being cold, wet, thirsty, of cockroaches, of hiding . . . They know how to break a prisoner's morale. You'll have to fight against yourself if you want to make it out of there.”

“Right, okay,” Julia said, concentrating, “the skylight, the cell door . . .”

“You'll have to become invisible. Don't talk to anyone; don't ask anyone for help. When the police get their hands on escaped prisoners, it's always due to some informant. . . . And above all, you must not come back here, because the police or the military will have posted agents throughout the neighborhood.”

“Okay, I understand.”

“Now we need to find ourselves a go-between. Because you'll have to leave Argentina.”

“What! Leave Argentina? No way! I'm going to fight right here, in my country. I'll go into hiding, they won't find me, I'll . . .”

“You see how hard it is,
mi amor
? All the same, you and Theo will have to go and live somewhere else. And we must start looking immediately for a way to smuggle you out. Ideally you'd be able to leave before they come looking for you.”

“Theo would never agree!”

Mama Fina remained lost in thought for a moment. She rested her washed-out eyes on Julia: “We have no choice.”

They decided that, for want of a better solution, their two go-betweens would be Señora Pilar and Rosa. They agreed not to say anything to Theo until they had something more concrete to go on. He had no inkling of danger. He was convinced that by moving to Saavedra he had become like a submarime retracting its periscope.

—

Everything changed the night Gabriel knocked on their door. It was nearly two in the morning. His face was twisted with anxiety. He had walked nonstop all the way from Posadas Hospital to their place.

“They arrived in several cars, before midnight,” he explained in a halting voice. “I was heading back from the bathroom; they didn't see me. Rogelio was at the front desk. They hit him, hard. Then they handcuffed him, pulled a hood over his head, and shoved him into a car. They also took Vlado, who was on the second floor, and Augusto, who was working in the hospital's print room. He's a friend; he came to a lot of our meetings with Mugica. Do you remember?”

“I know exactly who you mean,” Theo murmured.

“He was working later than usual. We were supposed to be going home together. He lives in Mataderos too. The fourth car stayed behind while they searched all the departments. I hid in a basket of dirty linens in the laundry room. I'm sure it was me they were looking for.”

Theo struggled to pacify his brother. Gabriel showered, changed, packed a bag with some clothes Theo lent him, and took all the cash the three of them could scrape together.

“The vise is tightening around the three of us. We have to get out of Argentina,” he told them.

Gabriel knew some French nuns who were assisting people in going into exile. He would go see them. He thought they
might hide him and help get him out of Buenos Aires. Gabriel asked Theo to inform Rosa. She knew where the convent was; he wanted her to join him there.

When Gabriel had left, Julia spoke openly and for the first time about preparing for their own departure. Mama Fina knew some people at the port and Julia had learned that she had made contact with an Italian network. They needed to make arrangements as quickly as possible. She thought they could probably stow away on a ship leaving for North America or Europe.

Theo felt terribly guilty about what had happened to his brother. He thought it was his fault. As the head of a Montoneros unit, he had placed his entire family in danger. He had to help them all leave at the earliest possible opportunity.

“I'll go to the port tomorrow to explore what options there are,” Theo announced. “And I'll stop by Rosa's place after work.”

The thought of having a plan lifted his spirits. Julia chose that moment to tell him she was pregnant. “God willing, our baby will be here in time for the new year.”

Theo leaped into the air and shouted for joy, taking her completely by surprise. He twirled her in his arms, then drew her into a dance, exactly as they had on the evening they'd first met.

In the morning they went to work full of optimism conferred by their happy news. Julia was going to drop by Mama
Fina's on her way to the pharmacy, and they would meet back at their place to take stock of the situation and make decisions. Theo also wanted to buy a bottle of wine and some flowers for a romantic celebration of the happy news.

It was early when Julia let herself in at Mama Fina's. She found her in the kitchen with a pile of papers and maps spread out over the table. Mama Fina had all the details about an Italian escape network. They would be ferried across the Río de la Plata by Uruguayan smugglers; from there they would set sail for Europe with new identities. An entire network of Italian families, especially in the south of the country, had made arrangements to receive the exiles and help them find jobs and somewhere to live. Their new passports and tickets had to be paid for up front, but Mama Fina would take care of that.

“I'll leave the smuggler's contact details with Señora Pilar,” said Mama Fina. “Go and see her tomorrow. You must make the crossing before the end of the week.”

Then, on an impulse, she added: “I'll leave some money in an envelope addressed to you with Father Miguel, the one who came to bless you on your birthday. You can then contact my friend Captain Torricelli of the
Donizetti
. You should find him at the port . . . You never know. Best not to put all your eggs in one basket.”

“Where does Father Miguel live?”

“You'll find him at the church.”

“San Juan Evangelista?”

“That's right.”

“Okay, in that case I'll go and ask him for a second blessing. . . . The baby might need one,” Julia said, her voice rising almost to a shriek.

“Really? It can't be true! Tell me you're not joking!”

“It is true,” Julia replied, hugging her. “You're going to be a grandmother again.”

“Great-grandmother, you mean!”

Mama Fina was transformed. She took her granddaughter's hands in hers. “Let's hope it's a boy!”

“Oh, no! I want it to be a little girl! I want her to be exactly like you, with your eyes!”

The two women clung to each other, unable to say good-bye. When Julia finally picked up her bag to leave, Mama Fina stopped her one last time. Making the sign of the cross on Julia's forehead, she said, “I think it is best that you know. From what I understand, there's a young police officer who apparently looks like the man in my sketch. He's just been assigned to the station in Castelar.”

“Which means . . . ?” Julia asked slowly.

“That's where the military interrogate political prisoners.”

“Oh, my God!” exclaimed Julia.

“You know too that Angelini and I are very close. . . .”

“Since the whole Señora Pilar affair?”

“Oh, long before that,
mi amor
. We were still children.”

“So?”

“So . . .”

—

Julia left in a rush to go to the pharmacy. She reached Plaza de Mayo and hurried in, apologizing. Her uncle Rafael, who was waiting for her, looked at her understandingly. She went to get her white coat, which was hanging on a peg in the back of the shop. Hearing the sound of voices, protests from her uncle, and the crash of breaking glass, Julia came out to see what was going on, hastily buttoning her coat as she did so. Two men threw themselves at her, grabbed hold of her, and dragged her out to the big green Ford Falcon parked at the entrance to the pharmacy. They shoved her inside, forcing her to lie facedown on the floor, and took their seats, trampling her with their heavy boots. The car took off before they had shut the doors. As soon as they were moving, the men fell on her, slapping and insulting her, touching her everywhere as they frisked her. One of them grabbed her by the hair, yanked her head back, and spat into her face: “You're going to die, you filthy Trotsky whore. But before you die, we're going to make you talk.”

They wanted names, addresses, the whole network. “You're going to tell us everything,” they snarled at her.

The car finally came to a stop in an open-air parking lot in the middle of a building site. They forced her to get out, kicking and hitting her with the butts of their rifles. There was another Ford Falcon parked alongside, its trunk wide open. Rosa was standing between the two cars with her hands tied behind her back. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks
were purple, like split figs. Mascara was running down her face.