The Knight´s Legacy

Buenos Aires 2014

BUENOS AIRES

FEBRUARY 2014

Debbie had asked him to take her that Saturday morning to the area of textile shops in Avellaneda Avenue, in the neighborhood of Flores to make some payments entrusted by his father. She preferred not to go with her car because of the parking problems in the area, while the scooter could be parked anywhere and Matías agreed.

He drove by Nazca Avenue with the woman in the back seat firmly clinging to his waist. As the traffic light before them turned green at the moment in which Matías tried to speed up the bike the old engine coughed, made several unpleasant noises and finally halted with large emission of black smoke.

“Oh, no!” Exclaimed Debbie “This happens to me for trying to save the taxi fare.” While Matías phlegmatically stood the  motorcycle on its legs and crouched, inspected the vehicle engine and disarmed a housing while he said, not very sure.

“Don't worry, it is the carburetor, this has already happened to me before.” Then extracted a piece, blew it, placed it back and tried to turn the corresponding footswitch. The machine coughed a couple of times again, made a huge explosion, but after several seconds of uncertainty began to work on a regular basis. Matías reached down again, and placed the housing in place.

“ And now you'll have your hands  the dirty with grease.” Debbie protested.

Matías, even squatting, looked towards the girl with a face of reproach, as looked down again to continue with his work saw the leg of Debbie, uncovered up to almost the knee since the pants had risen up by the position of her feet on the bike pedals. Stretching a bit he posed his lips on the white skin, kissed her and slipped his tongue all along her calf. Debbie slowly recovered from the surprise but then she suddenly changed her attitude, feeling invaded by the desire she stroked the hair of the boy and asked him gently.

“What's the matter, are you aroused?”

“We have not been not together for a while. If you agree I will ask where there is a hotel.” Answered the boy with his eyes shining. Debbie agreed with her silence.

He stopped the scooter close to a kiosk, whose owner provided him with the information required on a site in the street Bacacay. There they went, eventually finding a building with a somewhat bleak appearance.

Once in bed they frantically rubbed their bodies with ardor getting deep and painful orgasms too quickly, which managed to get the tension down leaving them exhausted and sweaty.

While Matías tried to recover from the effort, Debbie watched him in silence; she had already beginning to glimpse under the peaceful appearance of the young man an explorer temperament,  full of curiosity, eager for new experiences, particularly those that produce pleasure. Both stayed  in bed, with no desire to move and alter the relaxation achieved. Finally the woman consulted her watch.

“We have to leave, it will be noon and I'm afraid the Koreans will close the store for lunch

“Couldn´t you  stop looking at the clock? In this way you kill all intimacy and eroticism!” Grumbled Matías rising slowly from the bed. Whether he liked it or not, he thought, he always finished pleasing her; Debbie was a natural leader, had found an adequate partner and exercised her skills without hesitation.

He parked the vehicle on a crowded street on Avellaneda Ave. and as usual tied it to a tree with a chain and a padlock. Debora walked up to a neighboring address carry on her task while the young man was waiting for her in the shade of a store canopy. In front of him paraded the varied characters in the textiles business area. He passively observed the Korean merchants, many of them busy with rolls and packages that loaded and unloaded from their vans and other trucks; Bolivian women employed in countless shops; Orthodox Jews with their braids, coats and hats despite the heat, and buyers coming from all over the country to carry on their businesses, some in buses chartered for this purpose.

While he looked distracted and bored the  human and automotive traffic, Matías saw in the opposite side of the street two Asian young women entering a two-story House. It was a property of noble appearance with a Tudor  style door with gleaming bronze. A brass plate shone beside the door but from his observation post Matías could not read it. Given that the transit of girls was relentless, going in and out of the House, Matías crossed the street, bitten by curiosity. As he approached he saw that plate was engraved with Oriental characters, possibly Korean, although down in small letters it read in Spanish "Korean Buddhist Cultural Association in Buenos Aires".

Matías brain immediately associated the phrase "Korean Buddhist" written in the letter from his grandfather about Dieter Knopf, who would have arrived in Buenos Aires in the 50´s.

“Korean Buddhist there should not be too many in the city even today.” Reasoned the youth. “I might as well ask.”

Although the door has a heavy bronze knocker Matías decided to ring the doorbell. After a minute a thin Asian girl opened the door; Matías acknowledged  one of women he  had seen entering awhile before. He explained that he was looking for references of a family, but the girl, with obvious problems of language and shyness told him to wait. Moments later another young Korean woman appeared at the door. Despite the recent and exhausting s****l exchange with Debbie, Matías could not less than admiring the physique of girl: short stature, but sinuous curves, with a bust and pronounced buttocks that the tight jeans and a red sweater enhanced. The young woman, unlike the previous was full confidence in herself and self-assertion, which Matías found rare in Asian women. Her  face features were regular and graceful.

“I am looking for a close friend of  my grandfather, who is or was connected with the Korean Buddhist community in Buenos Aires.” He explained.

“What is the name of that friend?”Asked the girl in perfect Spanish, demonstrating by her accent to be local.

“Dieter Knopf. It is obviously not Korean. I also know that he has a son named Juan or Hans.”

“I haven't heard those names. If you want I can check with the most ancient people of the Association to see if they are known. Leave me your name, phone number and address.

Obeying an inner voice which called for prudence, Matías lied:

“I live in Rosario and I'm passing in Buenos Aires. I am not staying in any hotel yet, I do not have cell phone of my own. Give me your phone and name and I'll call  back.

The girl meditated a moment, wrote  a telephone number in a piece of paper and said her name was Alicia; then she asked him to call her the next day.

“Why did you lie?” Asked candidly Debbie “ You are asking her a favor.”

“I don't know what I'm getting into, and I seemed to notice a certain reservation in the girl.”

“It is a cross-cultural problem; you do not know how to interpret the reactions of people of different cultures. It is a case of ethnocentrism.” Debora rationalized applying some stereotypical explanations, which failed however to persuade Matías.