The Knight´s Legacy

Debbie

Matías returned early from work, and as they were in the period of winter holidays in the University he had some free time and wondering if Debbie would be at home. The couple had gone out several times but progress was slow according to Matías perception. The good chemistry that had been evidenced at the Café Tortoni between Matías and Chiche had its impact on Debbie, for whom the last was not only his uncle but a relevant male reference, more important than her father. She had inadvertently altered her attitudes to the boy in the sense of a greater receptivity, and he had captured the subtle signals.

Standing in front of the girl´s House Matías saw a car that he could recognized instantly. He crossed the street and waved to Debbie and Chiche, who was at the driver´s seat.

“Hi Matías.” Said the man. “ Do you want to come with us?”

Debbie explained that his father had asked her the Suzuki because his car was in repair, added that Chiche was going to the quarter of Caballito and that he had offered to take her to the Faculty of Philosophy, where she had one of her political meetings. Matías agreed, although he did not know what he would do once there.

As Chiche wanted to visit the place the three of them entered old Faculty building, a recycled factory. The show was devastating. Dirt cornered everywhere, long political posters with all sorts of slogans hanging from the upper floors and upholstering the walls. Students dressed oddly, beards of all models, and a busy and informal atmosphere. A group surrounded a curious character playing the quena  -a type of Andean flute- at the foot of the staircase. As Debbie had to go to the second floor they accompanied her along the stairs, ride in which they received  five pamphlets defending several causes. Matías decided to accompany the girl to the meeting place. It was an old, dirty and poorly lit classroom with about one hundred desks of which about ten or twelve were occupied by alleged students strangely dressed, with a profusion of ponchos and hats. Debbie entered and when Matías intended to follow her one of the assembled, with a Chef Guevara style beret stopped him.

“Excuse me, buddy, but this is a political meeting.” He said.

Frustrated, Matías watched from the outer side of the door the long chalkboard, and could partially read a poster stuck to it: " Movimiento Indoamericano "Original Peoples". Presiding over the meeting, at a table facing the classroom no doubt intended for teachers, was a red-haired and freckled young man with a sparse beard of the same color, using a curious scarf with Inca motifs.

At that time Chiche arrived who had decided to go to browse the other floors of the establishment. When Matías explained that they had blocked his step the man hit the glass door, now closed. A moment after appeared the young man which had obstructed the passage to Matías. However as he saw Chiche grizzled beard, and his overall appearance of "organic intellectual" the boy let him pass in such a way that  was installed in one of the front desks.

As she saw her uncle, Debbie startle and her cheeks blushed.

After fifteen minutes of introductory speeches by  several concurrent Chiche learned what the meeting was about. In a nutshell it was repairing the damage caused in Aboriginal communities by the conquerors by the "wrongly called discovery of America". Chiche realized  that the schemes had a hint of truth but the proposed courses of action seemed to him absurd and counterproductive. He raised an arm and with his usual baritone thunderous voice addressed the President of the meeting.

“I would like to say something” With the corner of his eye he saw that Debbie shrank into her seat.

“Go ahead companion.” Replied  the redhead.

“Karl Marx said in the 18 Brumaire of Napoleon Bonaparte that in the history of humanity all events pass twice, the first time as tragedy, the second as a farce .” added Chiche.

There was a general assent to such a good start.

“Right.”  Said the redhead.

“Then I must have been distracted when it happened as drama, because this obviously this is the phase of farce.” Chiche´s sentence was followed by a hostile whisper.

“What do you mean, companion?” Asked the President rather alarmed.

“First that you're of the same Original People than I, and second that by all of the issues I heard so far you have no idea of what the aborigines need and want.”

“What do you mean? I spent two weeks in Purmamarca.”shouted one as exhibiting a postgraduate degree.

The screaming covered all the subsequent sentences. The President shrieked.

“Pork, Zionist provocateur!”

“Martians.” Responded Chiche

“Worm.”

“Clowns.”

The rumpus became widespread, Chiche rose from his seat and began his exit of the classroom as  unstoppable as a waterspout. The red-haired President gesticulated while pondering the super structural implications of applying the intruder the nickname fascist, a kind of all-terrain insult . Afraid as he heard the noise Matías approached the classroom door. Chiche left the room walking impetuously pushing the Che´s emulator, whose identity beret fell on the floor. The two men descended the stairs at top speed, and when they were already down Chiche burst into a resounding laugh. They arrived in his car and still did not stop laughing, leaving Matías in ignorance of what had happened. After a while, and still feeling a pleasant taste in the mouth, Chiche deigned to give a concise explanation of the reason for the riot. Matías asked what to do next.

“We will wait for Debbie that certainly will be furious with me.”

After twenty minutes the young woman left the Faculty ignoring the presence of the car and walked at top speed towards the distant Rivadavia Avenue while the men followed her in the car. Three blocks beyond she turned towards Chiche with her face contorted.

“Watch the mess you made! If anyone sees me talking with you I am burned forever. How would I join my group again?

There were no arguments that would convince the woman to enter the car, so it was a long and quiet return. Arriving at Matías House Chiche addressed him for the first time.

“You know what? The last time I felt so good it was when I met Lucia. This must be repeated!”

Meanwhile, as Debbie walked she was calming down. The girl knew herself well enough to know that physical exercise would calm his state of anger with her uncle. Of her family the  sanguineous Chiche was the character most similar to her, full of energy, quick thinking and sometimes a bit merciless, direct up to brutality but sincere, unconventional in his values and attitudes. It was a model in which Debbie inspired instinctively, and at the same time was a mirror where she could observe and assess the effects of her own attitudes in others. After the fourth block she had already forgiven him, but it still remained facing to Matías to find out what his role in the scandal had been, which had made him pass. The boy was not going to get away so easily.