domingo, 6 de septiembre de 2009

RSClef50

I hid and recovered in the warm spell that arrived in Late August, blown in by a warm wind travelling eastward from the Andes. They call it La Zonda and it´s like the Chinook in Alberta, bringing dramatic increases in temperature for a short period. Whether La Zonda actually reaches all the way to Mar del Plata is very debatable but it was a warm wind and it blew in off the pampa, so perhaps La Zonda was at work somewhere in the west and northwest and was ultimately responsable for the heat wave. And then the rain came, La Tormenta de Santa Rosa; a lovely little legend that has some truth in it as well perhaps. One Isabel Flores de Oliva, a devout citizen of Lima, had in 1615 prayed that her city be spared the assaults of Dutch pirates who had just ransacked neighbouring Callao. On the 30 of August a fierce storm had arisen driving them away. Lima was saved, Santa Rosa beatified and her storm faithfully placed in the mystical pantheon of South American Catholicism. The cult took root in the River Plate, perhaps following those administrators of the crown who moved to Buenos Aires when the viceroyalty of the River Plate was established in 1776, precisely to combat smuggling by merchant/pirates from Holland and the rest of Western Europe. So the transplanting of Isabel Flores de Oliva´s redeeming storm was likely a very pragmatic process done by ambitious bureaucrats constructing a brand new viceroyalty. Meteorologically, La Tormenta de Santa Rosa is not quiet so awesome. According to studies done, a true storm occurring within a few days either side of August 30 only occurs some 15% of the time ( going back to the 1860´s in the Buenos Aires area ). However, a light rain after the Zonda is much more frequent. So if you need to lift your face to the sky and thank the pious lady of Lima for the moisture on your cheeks ( tears aside ) then perhaps there is just enough rain to keep your faith intact.

And I did lift my face to the sky in a light rain one day after the 30 of August. My face was mostly healed and the rain was a relief. I felt sheltered by the drops, cleansed even. Isa had changed the Euros bit by bit and with the rate at over 5 to the Peso we were able to leave the remaining dollars alone for a while. Diego had scavenged dry wood near the end of the heat wave and brought it to our apartment, commenting in a rustic singsong way about how the cold would soon return after ¨El viento de San Juan¨as he put it. It made Isa laugh, but she was careful to wait till he had left. He hates being reminded of his country roots. So the woodstove was lit again and I was returning to the apartment after this walk by the sea and puzzling about a phone call from Cagnazzo that Diego had mentioned. Cagnazzo had asked how I was doing. Does he know about the brawl at Kerry Keel? Did Isa tell Diego and Diego tell Cagnazzo? If he does know it´s a bad strike against me. No one wants a partner who brings unwanted attention. I wait for a pause in the traffic to cross over to our building. But wait. A squad car is approaching. The window rolls down and it´s Vanni. He points over towards Strobel and they turn that way. I follow across the lanes of traffic, my stomach churning anxiously.

Estas mejor pelotudo?

He´s grinning maliciously at me. They parked the squad car just past the car wash at the corner of Strobel and Camet but what´s really unsettling me is the official who also got out of the car. I recognize him ... Oh my god. He moonlights as a bouncer at Kerry Keel. Vanni tilts his bulldog head slightly to one side and his hazel eyes drill into me.

Y como pensas que zafaste esa noche pibe? Eh!??
No quería armar un lio ...

I have to be as direct and honest as I can. So that´s why I had to admit that it was a scam of mine that ended up in a violent fashion. Vanni pauses and nods satisfied. The bouncer/officer has a neutral look. Vanni is the one running things I have to assume. I want to ask him if there´s any more commisions for us from Pranav but I wait quietly. Vanni turns and nods at his official who gets into the driver´s seat and wheels the squad car around and drives ... into the carwash. On a rainy day. Vanni squeezes my elbow lightly and guides me into the bare bones cafe where you sip a coffee while they clean your car. No automated machines, rather some pumps and hoses and brushes and detergent and a handful of employees washing down your vehicle. The manager nods a little nervously and after serving us two cortados leaves us there alone and heads out into the work area to ostentatiously supervise things. Vanni sips his coffee and then speaks quietly,

Archivaron el expediente. Ya no hay causa. Y los Hungaros fueron, digamos, endemnizados.

So Miklos and Janos have withdrawn their charges and/or had the assault charges againt them dropped. Isa has been telling me that a brawl in a bar is hardly worth a second thought to the police or the courts. But perhaps the fact that it involved two Hungarian businessmen made things a little more complicated. I lean back relieved and realize I have to be grateful. Very grateful. If I want any more money from Pranav by way of Vanni. If you´ve been following my rough calculus we´re back at Canto XVIII where flatterers wallow in excrement. Although the expression here is ChupaMedias - SockSucker. I grin a shit-eating grin and say,

Che, vos no te perdes una. Sabés lo que hago yo antes que yo me doy cuenta!
Pibe, basta de joder. Que tenes planeado?

Blunt and efficient as always, Vanni just wants to know what my next move is. How did he get wind of it? Diego? Cagnazzo? I had thought they were a little more discreet. A week or so ago, I finally got Diego to open up a little about his inheritance. Given the death of his siblings in that pile up on Ruta 9, he inherited three properties: an agricultural supply business in Cruz del Eje which Cagnazzo promptly sold for him and two other parcels of land. One of the remaining properties is productive agricultural land but it´s the third property that interests me. It´s a rocky piece of land, 100 hectares some twenty kilometers outside town. Cagnazzo emailed some aerial and ground photographs to Diego who passed them on to me. My warm weather retreat has been spent frantically searching online to familiarize myself with basic geological terms and how they might apply to the junior mining industry. You see ... there´s a conference starting tomorrow in Mar del Plata. Somehow the mayor managed to get Siminera 2010 to hold a part of it´s events here rather than in Buenos Aires. All part of the push to put Mardel on the international conference circuit - poker tourneys, mining confabs, come on down! So yes, I do have something planned. And Cagnazzo of course is involved. And I suppose Vanni wants in. I sit up a little and sip some of my cortado and say,

Siminera. Tenemos un proyecto.
Ahi en Cordoba??
Y ... si. Cruz del Eje.
Mira vos ... Y decime ... como funciona eso??

Oh goodness ... he really wants to know how it works. He wants out of the petty scams and the grimy squeezes he has to put on people to supplement his pay. I nod to myself and glance over at the suds sliding down the side of the squad car. I feel like crying, out of exhaustion and relief. But I let the angst drain out of me and get down to business. How much do I tell him without angering Cagnazzo? How much does Vanni already know? Little, I suspect.

Vos armas un especie de arrrendamiento y la minera hace el laburo y si encuentran minerales, metales ... a veces tambien te dan un porcentaje addicional.

Vanni´s eyes glitter with curiosity and avarice,

Cuanto??
Y che, depende. Ellos se quedan con la mayor parte pero te tiran algo viste?
Aja. Y que hago yo??

It´s a threat but also a plea. I pause a long moment and then say carefully.

Mira. Yo tratatre con las mineras. Son Canadienses en gran parte. Y de ahi a ver que arreglo Cagnazzo y yo armamos ... Ok??

He taps his fingers briskly on the flimsy little table and then looks back at me. The car is now being wiped down with large rags out on the sidewalk on Strobel - a somewhat futile excercise given the rain.

Vos me tendras en cuenta, eh??
Obvio que si ... pero ...
Aca, tomá.

He hands me an envelope which I pocket quickly. It feels like cash. Good. The deal is done and we stand and I have to kiss his pockmarked cheek but what the fuck. I get some cash out of it and I´ll handle his bit in what I hope will be a successful venture. Outside it´s still spitting lightly and I turn right and head the short half block to our building. I´ll just have to make Isa and Diego - and Cagnazzo - understand that it would be dangerous to exclude Vanni. I lift my face again and let the rain cleanse the faded bruise under my eye.

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario