Scarred Face Read online

  -I got it! I have an idea! - he shouted loudly. The others jumped on him and he was immediately hushed with a series of sssshhhh. He now had the attention of his closest friends.

  -We rip off the stickers of the players that are in his album- he suggested, feeling proud of his newfound idea.

  -Actually, lets rip off the sticker of the football player of which he makes fun of us with. For example, yesterday he was mentioning that footballer Cubillas, Cubillas goal here and there, Cubillas from above, Cubillas from below. That’s it, we’ll tear that sticker out!

  Whilst Hugo and Miguel were sniggering about that strange but certainly ingenious idea, Alfredo felt compelled to intervene:

  -I think it’s a crappy idea and you want to know why!?

  Firstly: how do we get our hands on that album without him noticing, I am only saying this, seeing as he always carries it with him. Secondly: even though he exaggerates a bit in his way of deliberately expressing triumph, it seems to me that it’s too harsh to ruin his sticker collection, of which I’m certain, Guglielmo is crazy about. Third and lastly: deep down, he is after all our friend.

  The group of three looked at one another, at first a bit surprised, but then a thunder of laughter exploded amongst them, loud and increasing in volume, all of them bent double whilst beating their fists on their desks in unison. The rest of the class, Guglielmo included, got curious, and turned around to see what was happening. But when Walter just glimpsed in their direction, with a dark look on his face, a look that silenced each and everyone of his teammates, everyone returned back to what they were doing before the commotion, not a care in the world about what all that noise had been about.

  - Listen here Alfredo – Walter began, his eyes boring into those of his friend, - if you want to chicken out now, I understand you: sissies like you always get scared and run away in fear. But just for you to know, I don’t get fooled around by anyone, nonetheless by that sissy Guglielmo. So now, open up your ears and listen carefully. Firstly, we will take his album whilst we are at the football match on the beach, when he’s left it hidden inside the bush. Secondly: it’s precisely for the reason that he’s crazy about his sticker album collection that we will ruin it for him. Thirdly..... – but just as he was about to finish his sentence, the teacher had made her presence known in the room, because she began by silencing the whole class, and moments after breaking the silence with the loudest shrilly voice:

  - Good morning!

  And it was right in the middle of that good morning full of “o”s and “g”s that Walter managed to finish what he’d started by saying:

  -....... Thirdly and lastly: after all, he trusts you as he is your friend, so it’s easier for you to deceive him.

  A ship was on its way into the harbour, filled to the brim with its heavy load. It was waiting at the harbour entrance. Once the manoeuvre started, a loud whistle cut through the air, quieting for an instance the monotonous ocean rumbles.

  -Who knows where it’s coming from – asked Guglielmo to his friend Alfredo, who was ambling along looking nervous and tense. Having received no reply, the boy continued by saying:

  -Perhaps it’s coming in with wheat from America, or maybe wine from France, or some exotic fruits from Africa. Would you go to Africa?

  - I won’t do like the ones who have travelled overseas in search of luck, I will remain in Argentina! - replied all serious Alfredo.

  -Are you serious? You wouldn’t like to see other cultures, other countries, learn new languages?

  -No, what for? We are missing nothing here: we have a home, a family, our fathers have a job, most likely we will have one too when we grow up........ what’s the necessity of moving from here?

  Guglielmo pondered on a reply he could say to his friend, then he brightened and said:

  -That’s fine, but dreaming doesn’t cost anything, don’t you agree?

  The whistle was sounded just at that moment.

  That howling noise, had got them both down the path to the beach. It was as though they were drawn to it, seeking the place of its origin.

  Walter’s mood hadn’t changed one bit since that morning at school. Alfredo had bowed his head and nodded in agreement. He had hinted that he would be an accomplice in that wicked plan.

  -Come on old ladies, we will get you this time – shouted satisfied Walter, therefore giving a start to the football match and to that wretched vendetta.

  -Come on, give me a long shot, long!

  He was on the verge of losing his voice because he was yelling so much, when at last, Jorge had made up his mind to throw him the ball. It was as though the ball had a pair of wings, when it shot through the air, it flew steadily over the adversaries and colleagues’ heads. Guglielmo was ready to launch himself into the air and strike, his right foot pushing forcibly on the ground and the rest of his body, almost as if by magic, shooting up to the sky. It was precisely at that moment that Walter signalled to Hugo, deliberately keeping at a distance from all the game’s action, so as not to be noticed.

  -I’m going for a pee- he added meekly amidst all the commotion of the action.

  Now the impact on the ball was inevitable and Guglielmo was already feeling the joy of the scored goal, which would put his team at an advantage. Miguel had his eyes everywhere, he was attentive to what was going on both on the football pitch and on Hugo, who was pretending of going to pee, whilst taking ages to get the whole thing over and done with. Hugo already had in hand the whole sticker album when Walter had jumped high to block Guglielmo’s body, whilst Alfredo was busy controlling Nestor and Carlos. Guglielmo’s head turned and with a huge impact hit the leather ball. Walter fell heavily to the ground whilst Miguel tried a futile heavy dive towards the ball. Nestor and Carlos were rejoicing and shouting together ‘gooooooaaaallll’. The ball had gone beyond the line and so, they were at an advantage.

  -Yes, goal! – agreed Alfredo, whilst from the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Hugo who was hiding the ripped out sticker of Cubillas, right under his sweatshirt.

  When Guglielmo and his friends were out of sight, Walter and his team were ready to get started on their wicked plan.

  -Now that you have had your revenge, what are we going to do about this?

  Alfredo was really furious with Walter and his silly plan.

  -Take it easy, come on. Let’s just say that these pearly white teeth, are a bit too conspicuous, for somebody so dark as this Teofilo ‘So and So’. Miguel, give me your black pen, and I’ll take care of this.

  Miguel always carried a black pen with him. This, he stared doing from experience. From that day, that fateful day when he’d caught sight of somebody strolling on the promenade Avenida Sa Cruz. Hips swaying and a beautiful head of wild hair, couldn’t be anyone else other than his idol, the singing star of the moment, the biggest crush he was experiencing that summer. Whom he had glimpsed, was none other than Manuela Donizelli.

  What had followed next was a stuttering Miguel, in a monotonous voice, he approached her timidly and had requested:

  -Errr, sor, sor.......- which more than anything else, wanted to sound more like:

  -Excuse me, misses Manuela, can I get your autograph please? – said smoothly and without a hitch. The singing songwriter tossed her head back and replied with a chuckle, showing the widest smile and pearly white even and perfect teeth:

  - And the pen? You don’t have a pen my darling boy? –

  As a matter of fact, Miguel didn’t have a pen on him that day, and so, his dream singer had left, leaving nothing, but her own sweet trail of perfume, her high heels clicking on the ground. From that day onwards, in hope of some luck, and in hope that someday soon he’d be lucky of re-experiencing that vision one more time, Miguel had made sure that wherever he went he always had a pen on him. Always on the ready, always prepared.

  Walter clicked the pen, licked it with the tip of his tongue and started by first filling one, and then two and then three of the Teofilo Cubillas’ splendid white
teeth. Cubillas, that same Cubillas that had posed for the official photographer of the sticker collection, Crach.

  - Happy now?

  - Come on Alfredo, after all, this is only a sticker.......... Or rather was a sticker once - and with that, an explosion of mocking laughter rung through the air. This was nothing more than a nasty joke, a wicked plan to really hurt someone.

  Dirceau

  - God no! No, this can’t be happening! – said Guglielmo horrified.

  Only when the moon had bathed the roofs, the streets and the whole town with its white light, did Guglielmo find out about the missing sticker.

  His father’s snoring and his mother’s and Luz’s muffled silence certainly could not offer any consolation. Next morning every single one of them was going to get a piece of his mind. They would all have a taste of his fury; for Peru’s sake he was going to get justice right.

  A couple of street blocks away from him, Alfredo was peeping outside his window at the ships that were entering harbour:

  -That one is coming from Bolivia with a load of bananas.......... I wonder what’s Bolivia like – at this trail of thought he fell peacefully asleep.

  Tossing in her sleep, Luz was feeling slightly cold. She tried to pull up the blanket and wrap it tighter around her. She snuggled even further in her blankets. But a persistent shiver kept creeping back and later it was accompanied by a strong shudder.

  Many times, had her mother tried to wake her up from her lazy sleep, so to speak, energetically, but each time it was because of some warning, some telling off about something she’d done wrong. She would have to stay awake and listen to the whole explanation as to what she’d done wrong, and how was she expected to behave. This whole ritual was repeated a dozen of times even in the days that followed. Since Luz already knew the routine, this time she couldn’t fathom what she had done wrong. During that day, her mother hadn’t scolded her, or wagged her finger at her. Her father normally would keep reminding her with an ‘I’m warning you’, which he’d repeat over and over again for the hundredth time, but there was none of that that day. And neither did Guglielmo tease her or pull her leg at something during that day; so she concluded that it was only some dream which kept stirring her from her sleep, and that it would only take her a bit of time to fall asleep peacefully once again.

  But she soon discovered the truth. All this was not a dream. Something was indeed waking her up.

  A bright strip of light fell on her face. From behind it, came the voice of Guglielmo who looked quite anxious and needed a reply to his question:

  -Where is Cubillas?

  It was all in vain that she tried to explain to her brother that she was tired and wanted to get back to her sleep and that this certain Camillas, Camicias, Cuginas whatever his name was, she didn’t know him, actually, she had never heard of him, and that if he continued pulling at the mickey mouse faced lamp he was risking breaking it into pieces.

  -Don’t pretend as though you know nothing! – Guglielmo kept on angrily with his little sister, asking and repeating, raising his voice and not giving her any chance at all to reply, except to shed a tear, then two and then a torrent of tears.

  Their mother came startled into the room. She wanted to know, what was all that noise about.

  -Ask her what it’s about! – replied angrily Guglielmo.

  -What happened Luz? – asked her mother puzzled. However, Luz was distraught, still sobbing and she didn’t neither say nor do anything. She only shook her head, her golden curls shivering.

  -Look here! Look what little Luz has done! – roared Guglielmo as he put the album in his mother’s hands, with the page wide open, where all could clearly see the missing sticker. They all stared in disbelief.

  There was no time to lose, it was about time to go to school and Guglielmo had already wasted a lot of time arguing with his little sister. The argument was quickly resolved with a promise from his mum. Seeing him upset like that, his mum told him that she would try and find out the truth from Luz and that on his return from school, he would find a couple of new sticker packets, waiting for him.

  -Ok yes, but what if Cubillas is not amongst them? – complained further the young boy.

  -Hey listen here: does this guy play with the Argentinian team? I have never heard of him...... and anyway you will find others. Now hurry up or you’ll end up being late for school – said his mum, cutting him short, and putting a stop to his complaints.

  The bedroom door closed on the same litany of words that Luz kept on repeating:

  -It wasn’t me.-

  That Guglielmo had that morning woken up with a dark mood, was quite obvious to all of his friends. They noticed straight away. But in order to find out why, however, was something else. The ones that knew the reason were only Alfredo and his friends.

  -Where did you put the sticker?

  -I have it in my pocket. Why, what should I have done with it?

  -Throw it away you idiot! Make it vanish! We’re in for it, if he catches us with it!

  Alfredo and Hugo were bickering right in front of Miguel’s lost look and the arrogant face of Walter.

  A few school benches away, a small group of boys were listening to Guglielmo, who happened to be right in the middle of them. He was lamenting about his sticker album where the team of Peru was now ruined. He was cursing and talking badly of all sisters, especially if they were younger sisters like his’.

  -What are you going to do now? asked Carlos to Guglielmo.

  -Nothing – started Guglielmo, airing his anger. - And to think I was even giving her the doubles so she could scribble all over them with her stupid colours! Now she can forget them! If she wants, she has to make do with the empty white pages of her notebook – complained Guglielmo. And whilst looking around him he continued:

  -In the meantime, my mother has promised me two new packets for when I get back home from school. If I don’t find Cubillas, then surely I’ll find somebody else.

  Like every other day, rather, that day more than others, the urge to do the lesson was quite scarce; because on that same evening, the first match of the National team of Argentina was to take place. Therefore, the two teams could carry on talking comfortably, each in his own way, about the sticker album, the stickers and even about.......... airborne objects.... :

  -I got an idea, listen here – said Walter excitedly.

  Walter’s ideas were accepted and generally agreed upon. They always had the usual strangeness and a considerable amount of hatred. For instance, one time he had fun bringing in class a whole glass jar filled to the brim with lizard tails, cut off one by one by himself. And another time he stuck chewing gum to Mariana’s beautiful headful of blond hair and said:

  - ....... There, now you learn how to be bossy with everyone.

  And even on this day, he didn’t find any fault in his cruelness.

  - Miguel, is it true that you can build a kite using drinking straws?

  - Yes, it’s true, my grandfather thought me how.

  And Miguel was quick to reply and prove his knowledge straight away. He got a piece of paper......

  -Yes well done, but I’m not interested in how’s its done, the important thing is that you know how to do it. Now I will reveal to you what we need to do: let’s get the ripped off sticker, we’ll attach it to the kite, facing downwards, tied with a piece of string, and when we’ve finished flying it down at the pier, we’ll throw stones and beat the hell out of it. We would get a laugh and have some fun whilst at the same time wipe away all evidence of our actions.

  In effect it wasn’t such a bad idea and the rest of the group showed approval by thumping one another on the shoulders, high fiving, and cheering; the only one who didn’t approve, was Alfredo, and they all knew why.

  But what was underneath all this? In one instant he was the one who executed the plan, and in another the one trying to save Guglielmo. Why was he supporting and challenging the idea of disfiguring Cubillas’s sticker, both at once?

&
nbsp; -But do we really have to? Why don’t we just get it and get rid of it? – he objected.

  Walter didn’t give him any way out:

  -Because there is more pleasure in doing just as I say! – he said triumphantly. And Alfredo had to accept for the hundredth time, to live with Walter’s insolence and his hatred towards Guglielmo.

  A delicious smell of grilled meat greeted Guglielmo as he returned from school. Where he able to choose, he would have preferred the option to get potatoes, chocolate ice cream and Cola on the table, but he knew how his mother kept on about his eating of junk foods only (that’s what she and all the mothers called it). And so he had to close an eye, actually both eyes, considering that waiting for him with open arms were two, or if he was lucky, perhaps even three, sticker packets.

  Dashing through the door, he caught glimpse of Luz who stealth away to her room as soon as he came in, and his father who was waiting for him with arms folded. A bad sign indeed. When his father was waiting with crossed arms, it could only mean one thing and one thing only: trouble. This was a bad sign that didn’t take too long to reveal itself:

  -Why have you treated your sister like that?

  His father’s tone of voice, all prepared and ready for him, discouraged him in trying to act out something funny.

  -She has torn out one of the stickers in my album! – he said incredulously

  -She’s saying it’s not true – his mother added.

  -Yes, why not, so it could be that the sticker just vanished into thin air, all by itself, perhaps gone to the beach for a nice Bilz lemonade!

  -Don’t you ever speak to your mother like that! – said his father harshly, - Now leave your books and go to your room, without supper: you can think better over what you’ve done wrong, on an empty stomach!

  - But dad- Guglielmo objected.

  -Go on! – was his father’s stern reply.

  If he thought that the worst of his day was when he’d woken up that morning, now Guglielmo had a feeling that he had miscalculated by far, the whole event. His father’s voice was still booming threats from the kitchen, which only confirmed his ill thoughts.