B004QGYWDA EBOK (40 page)

“Yes,” Gamboa said. “I’ll get used to it.”

“I’m really very sorry for you,” the captain said. “You don’t believe it, but I regard you very highly. Remember the advice I gave you. And from now on, remember that in the army you teach lessons to your subordinates, not your superiors.”

“I don’t like you to be sorry for me, Sir. I didn’t become a soldier to lead an easy life. The garrison at Juliaca or the Military Academy, it’s all the same to me.”

“So much the better. All right, we won’t argue. Bottoms up.”

They drank what was left of the beer in their glasses and the captain refilled them. They could see the open field from the window. The grass seemed taller and brighter. The vicuña ran past the window several times; it seemed irritable, and kept looking from side to side with its intelligent eyes.

“It’s the heat,” the captain said, pointing at the vicuña with his finger. “She can’t get used to it. Last summer she acted half crazy.”

“I’ll be seeing lots of vicuñas in Juliaca,” Gamboa said. “And maybe I’ll learn to speak Quechua.”

“Do you know anybody up there?”

“Muñoz. He’s the only one.”

“That burro Muñoz? He’s a good guy. What a drunk!”

“I’d like to ask you a favor, Sir.”

“Why, of course, man. Just tell me.”

“It’s about one of the cadets. I have to talk with him in private, outside the Academy. Could you give him permission?”

“For how long?”

“Half an hour at the most.”

“Aha!” the captain said with a malicious grin.

“It’s a personal matter.”

“I can see that. Are you going to hit him?”

“I don’t know,” Gamboa said, smiling. “Probably.”

“Is it Fernández?” the captain asked in a low voice. “If so, it’s a waste of time. There’s a better way of taking care of him. Just leave it to me.”

“Not him,” Gamboa said. “The other one. And anyway, you can’t do anything to him now.”

“Why not?” the captain asked in a serious voice. “What if he has to repeat the year? Isn’t that something?”

“It’s too late,” Gamboa said. “The exams ended yesterday.”

“Bah,” the captain said, “that’s nothing. They still haven’t made out the report cards.”

“Do you really mean that?”

The captain quickly recovered his good humor. “I’m joking, Gamboa,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything unjust. Take that cadet outside and do what you want with him. But look, don’t hit him in the face. I don’t want any more trouble.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Gamboa put on his cap. “I’ve got to leave now. I hope we’ll meet again soon.”

They shook hands. Gamboa went to the classroom building, spoke to one of the noncoms, and then returned to the guardhouse, where he had left his suitcase. The lieutenant on duty came out to meet him.

“Here’s a telegram for you, Gamboa.”

He opened it and read it hurriedly. Then he put it in his pocket. He sat down on the bench-the soldiers got up and moved away-and remained motionless, a far-off look in his eyes.

“Bad news?” the officer on duty asked him.

“No, no,” Gamboa said. “Family matters.”

One of the soldiers was making coffee, and the lieutenant asked Gamboa if he would like a cup; he nodded. A moment later, the Jaguar appeared in the guardhouse doorway. Gamboa gulped his coffee and stood up.

“The cadet is going outside with me for a minute,” he said. “He has the captain’s permission.”

He picked up his suitcase and went out onto Costanera Avenue. He walked along the level ground at the edge of the cliff, with the Jaguar following him a few steps back. They reached Palmeras Avenue. When the Academy was out of sight, Gamboa put down his suitcase and took a piece of paper out of his pocket.

“What’s the meaning of this note?” he asked.

“It’s clear enough, Sir,” the Jaguar said. “I don’t have anything else to say.”

“I’m not an Academy officer any more,” Gamboa said. “Why did you address it to me? Why not to the captain of your Year?”

“I don’t want anything to do with the captain,” the Jaguar said. He was rather pale, and his eyes avoided Gamboa’s look. There was no one near them. The roar of the surf sounded very close. Gamboa pushed his cap back and wiped his brow.

“Why did you write this?” he asked.

“That doesn’t concern you,” the Jaguar said in a soft, docile voice. “The only thing you have to do is take me to the colonel. Nothing else.”

“Do you think things are going to get settled as easily as the first time?” Gamboa asked him. “Is that what you think? Or are you just having some fun at my expense?”

“I’m not like that,” the Jaguar said with a scornful gesture. “But I’m not afraid of anybody, Sir, the colonel or anybody else. When we entered the Academy, I defended them from the cadets of the Fourth. They were scared to death of the initiations, they trembled like women, and I taught them how to be men. And now they’ve turned against me. Do you know what they are? They’re a pack of traitors, that’s what they are. All of them. I’m fed up with the Academy, Sir.”

“Never mind your stories,” Gamboa said. “Tell me the truth. Why did you write this note?”

“They think I’m a squealer,” the Jaguar said. “Do you understand what I’m saying? They didn’t even try to find out the truth. The minute the lockers were inspected, they turned their backs on me. Have you seen the walls in the latrines? ‘Jaguar the Squealer,’ ‘Jaguar the Coward,’ everywhere. What could I gain? Let’s see if you can tell me, Sir. Nothing, isn’t that right? Everything I did was for the section. I don’t want to be with them for another moment. They were like a family to me, that’s why they make me even sicker.”

“That isn’t true,” Gamboa said. “You’re lying. If their opinion means so much to you, would you rather have them know you’re a murderer?”

“I don’t care about their opinion,” the Jaguar said quietly. “It’s their ingratitude that bothers me, that’s all.”

“All?” Gamboa asked with a mocking smile. “For the last time, I’m asking you for the truth. Be frank. Why didn’t you tell them it was Cadet Fernández who made the accusation?”

The Jaguar’s whole body seemed to fold up, as if surprised by a sudden stab of pain.

“But his case is different,” he said hoarsely, forcing out the words. “It isn’t the same at all, Sir. The others betrayed me out of plain cowardice. He wanted revenge for the Slave. He’s a squealer and that’s the worst thing you can be, but he did it to get revenge for a friend. Don’t you see the difference, Sir?”

“Get out of here,” Gamboa said. “I don’t feel like wasting any more time with you. I’m not interested in your ideas about loyalty and revenge.”

“I can’t sleep,” the Jaguar stammered. “That’s the truth, Sir, I swear to God it is. I didn’t know what it was like to have everybody against you. Don’t get angry, try to understand me, I’m not asking a big favor. They all say, ‘Gamboa’s the strictest of the officers, but he’s the only one that’s just.’ Why won’t you listen to what I’m saying?”

“All right,” Gamboa said. “I’m listening. Why did you kill that cadet? Why have you written me this note?”

“I was wrong about the others, Sir. I wanted to rid them of a character like that. Think about what happened and you’ll see how anybody could be wrong. He had Cava expelled just so he could get outside. He didn’t care if he ruined a buddy’s career as long as he got a pass. That’d make anybody sick.”

“And why have you changed your mind?” Gamboa asked. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth when I questioned you in the guardhouse?”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” the Jaguar said. “It’s just that I…” He hesitated for a moment, then nodded as if to himself. “It’s just that I understand the Slave better now. To him, we weren’t his friends, we were his enemies. Haven’t I told you I didn’t know what it was like to have everybody against you? We all bullied him, so much we sometimes got tired of it—and I was the worst of all. I can’t forget his face, Sir. I swear to you, I don’t know in my heart how I came to do it. I’d been thinking of beating him up, of giving him a scare. But that morning I saw him right in front of me, with his head up, so I aimed and fired. I wanted to get revenge for the section, Sir. How could I know the rest were worse than he was? I think the best thing is to put me in prison. Everybody said that’s where I’d end up, my mother, you too. You can be happy now, Sir.”

“I can’t remember him,” Gamboa said, and the Jaguar stared at him in amazement. “I mean, his life as a cadet. I know all the others, I remember how they performed during the field exercises, how they wore their uniforms. But not Arana. And he was in my company for three years.”

“Don’t give me any advice,” the Jaguar said, confused. “Don’t tell me anything, please. I don’t like…”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Gamboa said. “Don’t worry, I’m not thinking of giving you any advice. Go on, now. Go back to the Academy. Your pass is only good for half an hour.”

“Sir,” the Jaguar said. He stood with his mouth open for a moment, then repeated, “Sir.”

“The Arana case is closed,” Gamboa said. “The army doesn’t want to hear another word about it. It would be easier to bring Arana back to life than to convince the army it’s made an error.”

“You aren’t going to take me to the colonel?” the Jaguar asked. “Then they wouldn’t send you to Juliaca, Sir. Don’t look so surprised. Do you think I don’t know they’ve screwed you on account of this business? Take me to the colonel.”

“Don’t you know what useless objectives are?”

“What did you say?” the Jaguar murmured.

“Look, when an enemy lays down his arms and surrenders, a responsible soldier doesn’t fire at him. Not only for moral reasons, for military reasons too: for economy. Even in war there shouldn’t be any useless deaths. You understand what I mean. Go back to the Academy, and from now on try to see to it that the death of Cadet Arana serves some use.”

He tore the piece of paper he had in his hand and dropped it on the ground.

“Go on,” he added. “It’s almost time for lunch.”

“You aren’t coming back, Sir?”

“No,” Gamboa said. “Maybe we’ll see each other some day. Good-by.”

He picked up his suitcase and walked down Palmeras Avenue in the direction of Bellavista. The Jaguar stood watching him for a moment. Then he picked up the pieces of paper at his feet. Gamboa had torn the note in half, but he was surprised to find there were two other pieces besides those of the leaf from his notebook on which he had written: “Lieutenant Gamboa: I killed the Slave. You can make out a report and take me to the colonel.” The other two halves were a telegram:
DAUGHTER BORN TWO HOURS AGO STOP ROSA AND BABY DOING FINE STOP CONGRATULATIONS STOP LETTER FOLLOWS, ANDRES
. He tore the four scraps into little bits, and strewed them along the ground as he walked toward the wall that ran along the cliffs. As he passed one of the houses, he stopped for a minute: it was a large house, with a wide garden in front, the house where he had committed his first robbery. He walked on until he reached Costanera Avenue. He looked at the sea far below: it was less gray than usual, and the waves broke on the shore and died almost instantaneously.

There was a penetrating white light that seemed to burst from the roofs of the houses and ascend straight up into the cloudless sky. Alberto had the feeling that his eyes would explode from the reflections if he stared hard at those wide windows that caught and shot back the sun. His body was sweating under his light silk shirt, and every few minutes he had to mop his face with his towel. The avenue was strangely deserted: usually, at that hour, there was already a stream of cars heading toward the beaches. He looked at his watch, but neglected to notice the time: his eyes were too fascinated by the glitter of the hands, the dials, the case, the goldplated band. It was a beautiful watch, with a solid gold case. The night before, in Salazar Park, Pluto had said, “It looks just like a chronometer.” “It is a chronometer,” he told him. “And besides that, it’s waterproof and shockproof.” They pretended not to believe him, so he took the watch off and handed it to Marcela: “Drop it on the pavement and you’ll see.” She was afraid to, and kept letting out little squeals. Pluto, Helena, Emilio, the Babe and Paco all egged her on. “Do you really and truly want me to?” “Yes,” Alberto told her, “go ahead and drop it.” When she let it fall, the others were all silent, waiting for it to shatter in a thousand pieces. But it just gave a little bounce, and when Alberto picked it up it was intact, without a scratch on it and still running. Then Alberto himself submerged it in the park fountain, to show them it was waterproof. Alberto smiled as he remembered the incident, thinking: I’ll wear it in swimming today at Herradura. His father had given it to him for Christmas. “For your good marks in the exams,” his father told him. You’re finally beginning to live up to the family name. I doubt if any of your friends has a watch like this. You can put on airs.” And he was right: the night before, in the park, the watch had been the main topic of conversation. My father knows what life’s all about, Alberto thought.

He turned down Primavera Avenue. He felt lively and contented as he walked between that double row of mansions, each with its broad, carefully-tended garden, and he enjoyed seeing the tangles of light and shadow that ran up and down the trunks of the trees or quivered in the boughs. How wonderful summer is, he thought. Tomorrow’s Monday, but for me it’ll be just like today. I’ll get up at nine and meet Marcela and we’ll go to the beach. In the afternoon, the movies, and at night, the park. And the same on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, every day till the end of summer. And after that I won’t have to return to the Academy, just pack my bags. I’m sure I’m going to like the United States a lot. He glanced at his watch again: nine-thirty. If the sun was already so bright, what would it be like at noon? A perfect day for the beach, he thought. He was carrying his bathing trunks in his right hand, rolled up in a whitebordered green towel. Pluto would be meeting him at ten o’clock: he was early. Before he entered the Academy, he always arrived late at the neighborhood get-togethers. Now it was the opposite, as if he wanted to make up the lost hours. And to think he had spent two summers shut up in his house, without seeing anybody! Yet the neighborhood was so close that he could have left the house any morning, gone to the corner of Colón and Diego Ferré, and re-established his friendships with a few words of explanation. “Hello. I haven’t been around this year on account of the Academy. But now I’ve got a three-month vacation and I want to spend it with you people and not think about the confinements, the officers, the barracks.” But what did the past matter now? The morning stretched out before him as a luminous, protective reality. His unhappy memories were like snow: the golden heat would melt them away.