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President Obama´s athletic swagger seemed a little more measured than usual as he approached the microphones in the Rose Garden. I´m sitting up in bed and watching CNN. I can raise the blinds now since the headaches have stopped and the light doesn´t bother me as much. It´s all over the papers and he´ll have to comment. Luis Laredo, Obama´s fundraiser and pointman with the Hispanic community in Florida, had resigned as president of Codere; the Spanish firm that recently lost the concession to manage the bingos in Mar del Plata. The former OEA ambassador and advisor to both Clinton and Jeb Bush had failed in his lobbying efforts with the governor of Buenos Aires. The concession had gone to a local group but now both groups were under suspicion over the robbery. Doubts had emerged from several sources about the whole affair. An employee swore she recognized one of the assailants as a former security guard from another bingo. Someone else anonymously denounced an internal caper to launder funds. So the speculation began to mount that the whole thing was staged. When Chicho Pesconi, a retired policeman, admitted to being part of the gang and to have been instructed by accountants and managers of the bingo on how to proceed, the whole thing blew open. Judge Alejandro Tozzi was now in charge of what looked to be a sordid investigation involving tax evasion, a staged robbery and perhaps complicity between Codere and the new owners. So Luis Lauredo was caught in the spotlight with a request for him to return to Argentina to face Judge Tozzi´s inquiry. As Obama´s advisor on Hispanic affairs it was an embarassing blow to the administration. John Boehner was all over television looking tanned and concerned and questioning just what sort of ethics did the president have with advisors like Lauredo. That it also tarred Jeb Bush was mere collateral damage for the House Minority leader seeing he could take another swipe at Clinton as well.

Uhh ... let me make a uhh, statement about Louis Lauredo.

The president looked defiant and humble all at once.

He has, to my knowledge, conducted himself with total integrity and uhh ... let´s remember folks, that he´s not accused of any crime, nor has anything been proven at this juncture. I´m sure when this investigation, uhh ... is investigated fully ... as it should be and will be ... we´ll then not be speculating.

There´s a touch of venom in that last word. He looks geniunely angry and I wonder who´s the target of his anger. Lauredo himself, the advisor who led him to Lauredo or the press. Or Boehner. I turn down the volume and turn onto my side. Outside it´s warm and sunny and Christmas is almost here. I´m feeling clear headed now and I´m certain Obama was referring to Codere, even if I´m not sure he mentioned Lauredo or Lahood. And I´m aware that Boehner is always questioning the administrations ethics. I guess that´s his job. And Chicho Pesconi - that buff little bulldog strutting to his squad car outside the station on Independencia right at San Martin. That had to be him. And Greta and Irma had shrugged cynically when I suggested to them the robbery had possibly been staged. So the pieces were falling together. I reach over and grab the canvas strap and lower the blinds until the room is in shadows with enough of an opening to let in some air. A light knock and the door swings open.

Loco, vas a dormir?
No se ...

Isa sits down at the edge of the bed. She places a cautious hand on my hip, tapping me gently. Whether to comfort me or to warn me of something is unclear. She looks at me and pauses and then says,

I´ve been talking to Irma. The security guard at Bingo del Sol has decided not to press charges against you.
Huh ... ? With the robbery they were thinking of charging me!? Why ... !?

She taps my leg nervously and strokes my shoulder.

Allard, you fainted. There was no robbery ...
But the policemen?
Por dios!! Esos gordos fueron empleados de la cocina. Habia un pequeño incendio en la cocina y demoro el bingo un rato. Y vos ...

A fire in the kitchen at Bingo del Sol? And I fainted ... after a struggle with a security guard? Isa brings in a fan and sets it on rotate. The sound soothes me a little and I put on my eyeshades and turn the other way in bed and try to sleep. The breeze generated by the fan feels like an invisible brush sweeping across me in a broad stroke. A pause. Then another stroke. I bend to the rythym and unclench and slip into a fitful flow of dreams and dozing and half-awake memories.