The Knight´s Legacy

La Boca Quarter

Matías arrived in the dark Cafe in the neighborhood of la Boca at the agreed time, and found a dirty table available in the interior, away from the eyes of by- passers on the street. Juan had not yet come. The young man waited for half an hour with impatience eating it inside. Finally a tall figure appeared briefly in the door of the bar´s, but Matías could not look at it clearly due to the backlight. The newcomer absentmindedly walked by the bar, and once he had fulfilled his inspection, sat somewhat unexpectedly in Matías´ table. The youth looked at him and at first did not recognize him. Juan's was completely shaved and had had a hair crew-cut . Looked much more verbose than the aging and decadent hippy Matías had met at his home in Bajo Flores, but his clothes looked a little old and worn-out. After the cautious mutual greetings Matías said.

“I saw on television what happened to you. I was under fire in Rio. I was present when they killed Knudsen in the Floresta da Tijuca

“Yes,  I heard part of happened. There is no doubt that they are merciless people.

Matías perceived that man was well inclined towards him and decided to be honest in return so he succinctly told Juan the adventures to which he had been dragged since their previous meeting in Juan´s house. The in turn confessed that some time after the Matías´ visit to his  home in Flores he realized that he was being watched. Simply a number of subtle details that had previously been overlooked or that they had been dismissed as symptoms of paranoia, now looked doubtless. Juan went on to narrate his frustrated a*******n details.

“No doubt they were the same people who tried to kill you in Rio. “ Matías noticed that now Juan was speaking colloquially to him.“ They are both of us, but in your case they ignore your identity.”

“ But why are they after you? Neither you nor your father hake been involved in the subject of the information that my grandfather was handling.”

“I think for two reasons, the first is that they surely learned about your visit through Alicia, the Korean girl you have met, and they could connect the dots relating to your family link with Horstmann, perhaps by some involuntary disclosure in my relations with Alicia.” Juan paused, as if uncertain to continue, but then it recovered of a light blush.”… and the second is related to a few objects that my father found in Tibet in the course of the expedition in which he took part.”

“What kind of objects?”

“Odd objects related to anthropological research that the Nazis were carrying out there.”

“ But when we were in your house you told me  what these fellows look for completely material things.”

“Well, I didn't completely trust in you then. Anyway, the activities of your grandfather in Antarctica are the main but certainly not the only reason. The head of this band, at least in the South American region, a former SS Colonel called Grobel is a greedy man at the same time than a fanatic believer in the Nazi mythology.”

The conversation continued for another hour, after which Matías asked him with some awe.

“If Alicia is at this band service, are you sure that you can trust the other Korean girl to which I gave my phone number?”

“She is fully trustworthy. Nancy is my girlfriend.”

“A thirty years younger girlfriend.” Thought Matías.

“My father became addicted to Eastern eroticism in his journey to Tibet, and my mother was Hindu “ said Juan guessing the thoughts of the young man. “ Therefore I carry these preferences in my genes. But I want to reassure you regarding Nancy.”

Finally Matías told Juan about his upcoming trip to Esquel and the encounter with the unknown brother of his mother.

“If you will search your grandfather notepads I want to be part of the group. I am entitled to ask this to you in the name of his friendship with my father. Please convince your partners to include me.” Asked finally Juan and wrote his cell phone number in a small piece of paper.

Matías promised to think about it and bid farewell. This time Matías stood up and quickly left the place alone. He had mixed feelings not only about Juan but about the reasonability of his continuous engagement in the affair. He had the feeling-well grounded as the successive facts they would prove- that his life as he had experienced up to that time, hardworking but ultimately peaceful and warm, would be subject to shocks by events whose control he would not have.

On his return to his hostel Juan did not take the most direct route. In effect, the ramshackle house that has sheltered since he had left Pedro  -without even warning him before, for reasons of security-  was about twenty blocks away from the bar where he had met Matías. However he had acquired the habit of taking long detours, stopping at corners and secluded places, and looking behind his shoulder in order to determine whether he was being followed. Some time before he would have regarded this proceeding as a psychological abnormality, but after the attempted k********g it had become his second nature.

He toured at the beginning through the most colorful part of La Boca, often visited by Argentine and foreign tourists. Without lowering the guard he observed the local houses of external walls of warm and bright colors and varied building materials, so that in a same house there were walls of masonry, corrugated sheet metal and planks, each painted an on contrasting color. Shapes and sizes of windows were also varied, and some of the rooms had balconies, in which bicycles or clothes hanged. The whole set had a heterogeneous and variegated look with an acceptable maintenance level. The landscape changed as he walked away from the tourist area and entered into the more remote areas, inhabited by immigrants from other South American countries. The walls were rusting, doors and windows were broken, precarious electrical installations were exposed to weathering and dirt was stacked in the corners. There was also a change in the few people that he came across; instead of people busy circulating in a hurry on foot or by car, this zone was populated by passive beings, sitting on doorsteps or wandering around aimlessly.

He finally arrived at the old house in which he lived, a construction made of metal sheet  painted in colors that once were lively but were now faded by time. Perhaps that house had been built and inhabited a century ago by the Genoese immigrants who had left their lasting mark in La Boca. It was now occupied by Paraguayans and Peruvians, very poor with little instruction and loaded with children. Gossips claimed that some of them were linked to the local underworld or other fringe groups corresponding to their countries of origin, mainly Peruvians. The rest of the neighborhood avoided them and even tried not to look them in the eyes and although Juan did not share those prejudices he behaved cautiously.

He entered by a side door, avoiding the main entrance by caution. He then went with all their senses sharp down the dark hallway towards the rickety metal staircase leading to the upper floors. He was wary of that ladder for the danger of its loose steps. A week before a drunken Peruvian had fallen down it rolling to the ground, had been taken unconscious by the public assistance and never returned. Another reason to avoid that ladder was the indiscreet noise the steps made as they were walked on. He was already up to the first rung, when a dark and small hand landed gently on his arm. Somewhat startled, he turned to face the potential danger that emerged unexpectedly. Among the thick shadows he made out the profile of the woman who collected the weekly cash income, with whom Juan  had developed a fledgling relationship. She and her partner were Paraguayans. The women, holding in her arms three years old daughter took her right index finger to her lips demanding silence. Then she murmured a few words in Guaraní, only language that she spoke and looked at him questioningly to the eyes and then significantly raised her gaze on the staircase. Although Juan had not understood her words had captured perfectly the message. He should not continue because thereafter the danger was  awaiting him. He whispered a gratitude phrase and imperceptibly nodded his head. The girl disappeared in the shadows, after having fulfilled her providential role. Instead of climbing the stairs up to the second floor where his room was, Juan slid down the dark corridor to the central courtyard of the housing. From there he looked up and observed the second floor corridor, opening on the large patio. Adapting his eyes to the  darkness he  could focus the door and window of his room. An almost imperceptible movement that took place between the frayed window curtains sent an unequivocal message: his pursuers had tracked him and had set a trap in his own room. Quietly Juan returned on his steps towards the secondary entrance of the tenement ; then he got out and walked with his back to the wall of the building. Passing through the main entrance of the house distinguished a shadow lurking in the hallway. Undoubtedly, the ambush was perfect, they had tried to catch him in the interior of the House with guards at the entrance and in his room. He had miraculously been saved by his decision to enter through the side door, which apparently had been undetected by their enemies, and by the woman´s warning.

Juan walked away as quickly as he could dodge the street lighting lanterns, as if he were a thief on the lookout for prey. He knew he had to consider lost the effects that had in the room, which were not valuable in them but were all he had left after his escape from his own house in Flores. He shook his head to avert nostalgic feelings for his past life and frustration with his present situation.