B004QGYWDA EBOK (31 page)

“Who is the Jaguar?” Gamboa asked. “I don’t know the nicknames of the cadets. Tell me their right names.”

Alberto told him, and then went on explaining, with occasional interruptions by Gamboa, who wanted details, names, dates. Much later, Alberto fell silent and hung his head. The lieutenant showed him where the bathroom was. He went in, and came back with his face and hair dripping wet. Gamboa was still sitting in the chair with animal feet, thinking, brooding. Alberto stood in front of him.

“Go home now,” Gamboa said. “I’ll be at the guardhouse tomorrow morning. Don’t go to your barracks, come directly to see me. And give me your word you won’t say anything to anybody else. Not even your parents.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Alberto said. “I give you my word.”

He said he was going to come but he didn’t, and I felt like killing him. After I left the mess hall I went up into the summerhouse the way we agreed and I got tired waiting for him. I don’t know how long I was there, smoking and thinking. Every now and then I got up to look out but the patio was always empty. Also, Skimpy wasn’t with me, she follows me everywhere but she wasn’t with me just when I needed her, I wanted to have her beside me there in the summerhouse so I wouldn’t feel scared: bark, Skimpy, bark, drive off the evil spirits. Then I got to thinking: Curly’s double-crossed me. But it wasn’t that, I found out later. It was getting dark and I was still there in a corner of the summerhouse, so I left it and went toward the barracks, almost on the run. I got to the patio just as they blew the whistle, if I’d waited for him any longer they’d’ve given me six points and he didn’t even think of that, I sure wanted to beat him up. I saw he was in the first rank and he turned his head so as not to look at me. His mouth was open, he looked like one of those idiots that wander through the streets talking to the flies. That’s when I knew why Curly didn’t go to the summerhouse: he was too scared. This time we’re screwed for sure, I thought, I’d better start packing my bag, I’ll go out and earn my living somehow, I’ll jump over the wall before they rip off my insignias, and I’ll take Skimpy with me, nobody’ll notice she’s gone. The brigadier was calling the roll and everybody was saying here. Then he called the Jaguar’s name, I can still feel the chill that ran down my spine, my knees are still shaking, I looked at Curly and he looked at me with wide-open eyes and everybody turned to look and I don’t know how I had the strength to stand it. The brigadier coughed and went on calling the roll. After ward the big fuss began, we hardly got into the barracks when the whole section ran up to me and Curly, shouting, “What’s happened? Spill it, spill it!” They wouldn’t believe us when we told them we didn’t know anything and Curly starting pouting, he said, “We don’t know any more than you do, stop asking so many questions, damnit.” Come here, Skimpy, don’t go running off, don’t be so grouchy. Look how sad I am, I need your company, come here. Later, when the others went to bed, I went over to Curly and said to him, “You double-crosser, why didn’t you go to the summerhouse? I waited for hours.” He was even more scared than before, it made me feel sorry for him, and the worst part was, it was the kind of fear that’s catching. Don’t let them see us together, Boa, wait till they’re all asleep, Boa, I’ll wake you up in an hour and tell you everything, Boa, go back to your bunk, get away from me, Boa. I insulted him and I told him, “If you’re double-crossing me again, I’ll murder you.” But I went and lay down and a little later they put out the lights and I saw the Negro Vallano get out of his bunk and come over to mine. He was all sweet-talk, the wise guy, very lovey-dovey, I’m a friend of yours, Boa, tell me what’s happened, very buddy-buddy and showing those rat’s teeth of his. Even thought I was feeling so sad, it made me laugh to see how quick he went away when I just shook my fist at him and made a face. Come here, Skimpy, be good to me, I’m having a bad time, don’t go away. I said to myself, I’ll go and crack his skull if he doesn’t come. But he finally came, when the others were all snoring. He walked up to me very slowly and said, “Let’s go in the latrine, we can talk better there.” The dog followed me, lapping my feet, her tongue’s always hot. Curly was pissing and it seemed as if he’d never finish, I decided he was just stalling so I grabbed him by the neck and shook him, I said, “Okay, now tell me what’s happened.” And I’m not surprised at all about the Jaguar, I’ve known all along he doesn’t have any feelings, who’d be surprised that he wants to get the rest of us in the soup. Curly says he said, if I get screwed, everybody gets screwed, I’m not surprised at all. Curly doesn’t know all about it, stop moving, Skimpy, you’re clawing my stomach, but I hoped he’d tell me lots of things and he sure did. He said they were using a Dog’s cap as a target to throw stones at, the Jaguar hit it every time from twenty yards away, the Dog said, “You’re ruining my cap, Cadets.” I remember I saw them in the field but I thought they’d gone out there to have a smoke or I’d’ve gone out and joined them, I like that kind of target practice and I’ve got a better aim than Curly and the Jaguar. And he said the Dog objected too much and the Jaguar told him, “If you keep on talking I’m going to aim at your balls, you’d better shut up.” Then he turned to Curly and said, “I’ve just figured out why the Poet hasn’t come back to the Academy: he’s dead. This is the year for dying, we’ll have some other deaths in the section before it’s through.” Curly says it made him nervous to hear the Jaguar talking like that, he crossed himself and just then he saw Gamboa. It didn’t occur to him that he’d come for the Jaguar, I wouldn’t’ve thought of it either, nobody would’ve. Curly opened his eyes wide again and said, “I didn’t even think he’d come over to us, Boa, I was only thinking about what the Jaguar said about the Poet and more deaths in the section, then I saw he was coming straight at us, Boa, he was looking straight at us.” Skimpy, why’s your tongue always so hot? It reminds me of the cupping glass my mother used to use to draw out the poisons when I was sick. He said that when Gamboa was about ten yards away the Dog stood up, so did the Jaguar, and the Jaguar came to attention. “I knew something was wrong, Boa, it wasn’t just that the Dog didn’t have his cap on, anybody’d notice that, but Gamboa only looked at me and the Jaguar, he didn’t take his eyes off us, Boa.” And he says that Gamboa said, “Hello, Cadets,” but not looking at Curly any more, just at the Jaguar, and the Jaguar dropped the stone he had in his hand. “Go to the guardhouse,” he said, “and report to the Officer of the Day. Take your pajamas, your toothbrush, a towel and a bar of soap.” Curly turned pale, but he says the Jaguar was as calm as anything, even insolent, he said, “Me, Lieutenant? Why, Lieutenant?” and the Dog laughed, I hope we find out who he was. Gamboa didn’t answer, he only said, “Get going.” It’s too bad Curly doesn’t remember what that Dog looks like, the lieutenant was there so the Dog grabbed his cap and ran away. I’m not surprised by what the Jaguar said to Curly, “If this is about the exam, a lot of people are going to wish they’d never been born,” that sounds exactly like him. Then Curly said he asked him, “Do you think I’m a squealer? Do you think the Boa’s a squealer?” And the Jaguar said, “I hope not, for your own good. Remember, you’re in this as deep as I am. Tell the Boa the same thing. Tell all the ones that bought exams. Tell everybody.” I know the rest of it because I saw him leaving the barracks, he was dragging his pajamas along on the ground, with his toothbrush stuck in his mouth like a pipe. I was surprised because I thought he was going to take a shower and the Jaguar isn’t like Vallano, who takes a shower every week, when we were in the Third they called him the frogman. You’ve got a hot tongue, Skimpy, your tongue’s long and burning.

When my mother told me, “School’s over for you, let’s go see your godfather, he’ll get you a job,” I said, “I know how to get money without leaving school, don’t worry about it.” “What do you mean?” she asked me. I got tongue-tied and just stood there with my mouth open. Then I asked her if she knew Skinny Higueras. She gave me a queer look and asked me, “How do you know him?” “We’re friends,” I told her, “and sometimes I do little jobs for him.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You’re grown up now,” she said, “so do what you like. I don’t want to know anything about it. But if you don’t bring home any money you’ll have to go to work.” I could tell that my mother knew what my brother and Skinny Higueras used to do. I’d already gone with Skinny to other houses, we always went at night and each time I earned about twenty soles. Skinny told me, “You just stick by me and I’ll make you rich.” I had all the money hidden in my notebooks and I asked my mother, “Do you need any money right now?” “I always need money,” she said, “give me what you’ve got.” I gave her all of it except two soles. The only things I spent money on were the fares to go wait for Tere every day when she got out of school and my packs of cigarettes, that’s when I began buying my own. A pack of Incas would last me three or four days. One time I lit a cigarette in the Bellavista Plaza and Tere saw me from the doorway of her house. She came over and we sat down on a bench to talk. She said, “Teach me how to smoke.” I lit another cigarette and she took a few puffs, but she couldn’t inhale and right away she started choking. She told me the next day that she’d been sick all night and wasn’t going to try smoking any more. I remember those days very clearly, they were the best days in the year. We were almost at the end of the term, exams were beginning, and we studied even more than before. We were practically inseparable. When her aunt was out or was sleeping, we cracked jokes and rumpled each other’s hair, and I felt very nervous every time she touched me. I saw her twice a day and I was very happy. I had money, too, so I always brought her a surprise. At night I went to the Bellavista Plaza to meet Skinny, and he’d tell me to be ready on such and such a night. “We’ve got something real good lined up,” he’d tell me.

At first the three of us went out, Skinny and me and the peasant Jitters. One time when we pulled off a job in Orrantia, in a rich man’s house, a couple of new guys went with us. But mostly it was just Skinny and me. “The fewer, the better,” he said. “That way there’s a bigger split. But sometimes we have to take others, if it’s a big haul we can’t do it by ourselves.” Usually we broke into vacant houses. Skinny knew all about them, I don’t know how, and he’d explain to me how to get in, by the roof or the chimney or a window. At first I was scared, but later on I could work very calmly. I remember the time we got into a house in Chorrillos. I went in through a garage window after Skinny cut a hole in it with a glass cutter. I passed through the house to open the front door, then I walked down to the corner to wait. A few minutes later I saw the lights go on upstairs and Skinny came shooting out the front door. He grabbed my hand as he went by and said, “Hurry up or we’re cooked.” We ran for about three blocks, I don’t know if they were chasing us but I was plenty scared, and when Skinny told me, “Run down that way, then turn the corner and start walking like nothing happened,” I thought I was done for. But I did what he told me and it all worked out all right. I had to walk the whole way home. I was half frozen by the time I got there, and dead tired, and I was afraid Skinny’d got caught. But he was waiting for me in the plaza the next day, and he almost died laughing about it. “What a flop!” he said. “I was opening a dresser drawer when all the lights came on. They damn near blinded me. It’s a good thing we’ve got God on our side.”

“Then what?” Alberto asked.

“That’s all,” the corporal said. “It’s just that he started to bleed, and I told him, ‘Stop your bellyaching.’ So the idiot said, ‘I’m not, Corporal, but I’m hurt.’ And since all the privates are buddies, they started saying, ‘He’s hurt, he’s hurt.’ I didn’t believe it, but maybe it was true. Do you know why, Cadet? Because his hair was getting red. I told him to go wash it off so he wouldn’t dirty the floor in the barracks. But he was a stubborn bastard, he wouldn’t do it. If you want to know the truth, he’s a fairy. He just sat there on his bunk, and I gave him a shove so he’d get up. That’s the only reason I shoved him, Cadet, but the others started yelling, ‘Leave him alone, Corporal, can’t you see he’s hurt.’”

“And after that?” Alberto asked.

“That’s all, Cadet, that’s all. The sergeant came in and asked what was the matter with him. ‘He fell down, Sergeant,’ I said. ‘Isn’t that right, you fell down?’ But the fairy said, ‘No, you hit me on the head, Corporal,’ and the other bastards started shouting, ‘That’s right, that’s right, the corporal hit him.’ What goddamned fairies! So the sergeant sent that idiot to the infirmary and brought me here to the guardhouse. I’ve been here four days, on bread and water. You can’t guess how hungry I am, Cadet.”

“Why did you hit him on the head?” Alberto asked.

“Bah,” the corporal said with a scornful gesture. “I just wanted him to clear out the rubbish faster. Want me to tell you something? There isn’t any justice. If the lieutenant finds any rubbish in the barracks he restricts me to the grounds for three days or he kicks my ass. But if I give a soldier a bat on the head they put me in the guardhouse. Want to know the truth, Cadet? The officers walk all over the privates, but they’re all buddies and they help each other. We noncoms, though, we get it from both sides. The officers treat us like dirt and the privates hate us, they do everything they can to make it tough for us. I was better off when I was a private, Cadet.”

The two cells were in back of the guardhouse. They were high and dark, with a grating between them through which Alberto and the corporal could chat comfortably. In each cell there was a small window near the ceiling that let in a few rays of light; there was also a rickety field cot, a straw mattress and a khaki blanket.

“How long’re you going to be here, Cadet?” the corporal asked.

“I don’t know,” Alberto said. Gamboa had not given him any explanation the night before, he had merely said curtly, “And sleep there, I don’t want you to go to the barracks.” It was scarcely ten o’clock, Costanera Avenue and the patios were deserted, with a silent wind sweeping through them; the cadets who had been confined were in their barracks and the cadets who had gone out on pass would not return until eleven. The privates were sitting together on a bench at the rear of the guardhouse, talking in low voices. They had not even glanced at Alberto when he entered the cell. For a few moments he could not see anything in the darkness, then he made out the shadow of the field cot in one corner. He put his bag on the floor, took off his jacket, shoes and cap, and covered himself with the blanket. He could hear someone snoring, it sounded like an animal growling, but he fell asleep almost at once. He woke up several times during the night, and that snoring still continued, unchanged, powerful. At daybreak he discovered the corporal in the next cell: a tall man with a face as sharp as a knife, sleeping with his cap and leggings on. A little later a soldier brought him a cup of hot coffee. The corporal woke up and gave him a friendly wave from his bunk. That was when they started chatting together, and they were still at it when reveille sounded.