Scarred Face Read online

  -I will keep them myself, those two sticker packets: I will give them back to you only when you learn some good manners – finished his father, and that was that, case closed.

  -Tie the string securely or else we’re risking of having it torn apart with the wind.

  Miguel was firing orders left, right, and centre, proving his ability in kite making.

  -Are you sure that the tissue paper will hold?

  -Puh! One time my grandfather said to me that incredibly he had lifted a calf with a kite made only out of tissue paper.

  -I have a feeling that your grandfather tells fibs, they didn’t call him, thrifty because of his bulkiness, but anyway, you know.........- said Hugo whilst winking at the others.

  -You be quiet and take care of tying the knots correctly.

  A flock of seagulls was drifting across the sky, at times swooping down like a cluster of shooting stars. Falling down towards the deep blue sea, and then rocketing up again like a big rubber ball, seemingly bouncing up high to the sky, beaks, like small yellow tweezers, clammed tightly around a poor fish. In a way that flight was only disturbed by something unexpected, something that disrupted the invisible path of their flight, leaving the white feathered birds in the clearer part of the sky, a long distance away from the choppy waters. Quite content, a school of fish took advantage of that moment’s peace, and swam towards safer sea zones. But the kite, made out of tissue paper with its disfigured sticker, was the reason of their miraculous escape, and it was soon coming down under heavy blows from Walter, Alfredo and the other cheeky boys.

  -That was a good hit! - they could hear the cries from the fishermen who were on their trawlers with winches on the ready to pull out the nets from the sea.

  -Aim a little lower. Like that, well done! – were the cries heard from them.

  It was Hugo who hit the centre point of the white tissue paper. With a gaping hole right in the middle, that strange creature had to leave the bird playground up in the sky and dash to the birds’ dinner table, much to the fishes’ disappointment.

  Teofilo Cubillas had circled a couple of times before hitting the tip of the icy waters of the Atlantic.

  -Guglielmo! Guglielmo! Come on, here, take these – said Maria Laura.

  He had in hand the two sticker packets which at first had been denied, then unexpectedly given. Guglielmo had to stop halfway through the corridor before he remembered to thank his mother. He blew her a kiss and then he dashed to his room.

  From the keyhole an unhappy head was spying on him. The little girl Luz was defeated and went to her bed, cradled her teddy bear in her arms and began telling him a story. A story that was supposed to end up with a “and they all lived happily ever after”.

  But even Luz was slowly realizing that not all stories were meant to have the same ending.

  It was right in the second packet, just after the third sticker, that Guglielmo saw the fine hairstyle of Dirceu: this meant that one out of the two pages dedicated to the National Brazilian team was now complete. He couldn’t wait to tell his friends.

  The last sticker he soon discovered, was a duplicate one. It was of a Mexican player with a majestic hairdo and with a very dark moustache.

  He turned it around in his hand a couple of times, until finally decided that he would give it to Alfredo:

  -In your face Luz! – he said to himself.

  .........a long shot from Gallego to Luque that with a chest kick passes the ball on to Alonso, penalty area, a heel pass again to Luque.... Touched by the shoe tip...the referee steps aside.... The ball rolls to the side.... Attention, there, it’s coming..... and goooooalllll, gooooooooooooaaaaaaaaalllllll, gooooooooalll..... Bertoni, Daniel Bertoni !!!!!!

  Coincidentally, it was as though, straight after their victory, almost the entire population of Argentina who had been on pins and needles for the countries’ match, greeted them, and came out to celebrate in the streets. Both the boys and the supporters. From the apartments, from pubs, from the cinema, after having watched the football match on a colour screen, from the offices and even from the churches: everyone had took to the streets, and to the sidewalks, shouting and yelling and waving flags in festivity. Thousands of fans were rejoicing, and risking deafness from all the noise. Even fireworks and firecrackers rang through the air, simply giving a welcoming start to the games. The first victory played at home, right on the soil of the Argentinian National team.

  Bulky trucks over-flowing with people, took out to the streets in celebration after the victory. Nobody seemed to care, not even one bit, that the road was still long and treacherous, far from over. Final victory was a long way ahead. There were still matches to be played and defeats to be held. But humanity pulsated on this rejoicing, and lived for the moment.

  Guglielmo decided to celebrate this victory along with his friend Alfredo:

  -You know, only today did I find the sticker of Direceu. Look – he said, whilst showing him the album.

  The boy leafed through it, then stopped and pointed to a blank space and asked:

  -But wasn’t there also Cubillas sticker over there?

  -Let’s leave that alone. It’s all Luz’s fault. – And quickly closed the sticker album. He then stuck his hand in his trousers’ pocket and said:

  - Actually wait, I have something for you – and from his pocket he got out the duplicate sticker of the Mexican national team, the one with the player in a big moustache.

  Alfredo, not giving way to his emotions, took the sticker, stared at it and then shrugging his shoulders he said:

  -It’s nice, but for me, I don’t like these.

  Free from any owner now, this sticker was looking for a new owner. Somebody was watching the scene from above from behind a ray of light. In the bustle of the festivities, which seemed to take forever, it would have to make do, the only one to accept without being asked, the chosen one.

  So right there and then, they removed the sticker from its’ adhesive side and agreed to stick it to the lanky lamppost. The Mexican with the ridiculous hairstyle and a moustache that looked more like a horn placed upside down, would be the new lord of that lamppost.

  Resenbrik

  Guglielmo’s father started working at the factory when he was just eighteen. Certainly it wasn’t a dream job, to can food in boxes, tuna in oil, but a recommendation by the Councilor doesn’t happen every day. So on the prestigious day, for the appointment with the boss, Mr. Raul showed up in his best outfit.

  -And your father and mother where have you left them? – was the question that greeted him in front of the entire committee. They all stared at him, waiting for a reply.

  Raul thought that nowadays the interviews took such procedures. It was like that when somebody had been to the military: on the soldiers’ return, the whole platoon would be there waiting to assist and tend to the newcomers. Therefore, it came completely natural to him. He adjusted the frayed collar of his shirt and started making up a reply, to the ones listening attentively:

  -I wasn’t aware of such traditions! I will provide immediately Mister, Mister....

  Mister?

  -Mister Martorelli! But you haven’t answered me boy: where are you mummy and daddy?

  -I didn’t realise. Well, I didn’t think it was necessary for me to be accompanied on the first day at work.

  -First day at work? But didn’t you show up here for your first holy communion?

  Now really Mr. Raul wasn’t understanding anything:

  -But I’ve already done the Holy Communion – he replied flustered and bewildered.

  -So why did you come dressed in the same outfit, the same one that you wore on your first Holy Communion?

  The thunderous laughter, was all that he could remember of his first day at work, more than anything else. Even the factory workers were bent double in laughter. All at his expense.

  Since that time, a lot happened: the beautiful Maria Laura who looked at him with dark eyes like black olives, their first kiss together on the reefs of
Playa Las Grutas. Guglielmo, who came a little too soon, and lastly little Luz. And all this came to life only because of his first job, where he’d met Maria Laura. A job with aluminium boxes, containing a round piece of tuna.

  -Maria Laura, where are my socks? I can’t find them! – he asked his wife in a hoarse and low voice, which was a consequence of the festivities of the night before.

  -Daddy, here they are. – was Luz’s reply

  Luz had that habit of just showing up unexpectedly: when you least expected her. She would come right out of that same place that you would have checked a couple of seconds before and would have sworn that not a living soul was there. She was a particular child. This was made obvious immediately, since when she was a wee baby, when she refused to be breastfed or even take the bottle and instead, got her milk out of a silver teaspoon. Perhaps, she was indeed a little witch.

  And with those black socks in each of her hands, she looked as though she had two bats, ready to be thrown into a big cauldron of fire with magic potions.

  -Where did you come from? – was her father’s startled reply.

  -I came through the door – she said simply.

  -But if I’ve only looked there a second ago, and you...... forget it. Come closer, because you have to reveal a secret to me – he said whilst he hugged her to him.

  The little minx came closer with a look on her face that made Raul melt all over: a mixture of cuteness and stubbornness.

  Her father took her in his arms, sat her in his lap and told her:

  -Swear to me that you’ll tell me all the truth. Swear on your teddy bear, Dagoberto.

  -I can’t seem able to find my teddy Dagoberto anymore, but I can swear to you on Tania.

  -And who’s Tania?

  -The doll with the long long braids, that laughs and says I love you.

  -Ah ok, .... Then swear on Tania: Was it you who took your brother’s sticker?

  Raul knew that he had to ask the question without looking extremely interested in the reply, but this time it was all in vain. It was all because he had seen how much Guglielmo was enjoying himself doing the sticker album collection., that special paper book of fairy tales about football: it was about a dream, and as such had to be defended and protected.

  -No – was Luz’s reply.

  - Is that all?

  Well! He couldn’t be rude, but damn it, she continued to be tougher and more overwhelming: Luz would have realized by now, and therefore be wiser and understanding, in the least she would just keep quiet, say nothing. Therefore, another tactic had to take place:

  Come on luz, I would like for Guglielmo to get back in giving you the duplicates again, like he did before, so you can scribble on them as much as you like. But in order to do this I need your help, so please be honest with me, did you touch your brother’s sticker album?

  - No, I’ve already told you .... But sometimes, when he’s at school, mum lets me take it out of the bottom drawer of his wardrobe, promising to put it right back in its place after I’ve seen it, before Guglielmo gets back from school.

  - Do you just leaf through it, see the pictures, and that’s all?

  - I look at the players’ faces, I make them talk, I get them acquainted with the other teams and then I put the rounded flags under the window.

  - Any why exactly under the window?

  He hadn’t even finished the sentence when Luz disappeared just in the same way that she had arrived. She was quickly gone from the bedroom, from his lap and out of Raul’s sight. She reappeared a few moments later having in hand the album and his socks still worn on her hands.

  - And now why did you take it – asked her father a bit confused.

  - Nothing, just look – and she showed him the page which had all the flags of the countries participating in the world cup. Then, pulling him by the arm she took him to the window.

  The scene that caught Maria Laura whilst she was crossing the hallway, was of her husband in his underpants, leaning forward towards the window pane where sunlight was coming in. Luz hopping about and Guglielmo’s album swinging to and fro, just as though trying to catch a sun’s reflection as one does when trying to shine a wristwatch and get that reflective circle of light onto somebody.

  -What are you doing? She said whilst stopping in the doorway.

  -Look, come look here what a nice show!

  - Yes, it’s a beautiful sunny day, but why the album?

  - No, quick, come look here, you can see the rainbow – said Luz excitedly and repeated again:

  - Yes, the rainbow.

  Maria Laura bent over to look. She moved aside Raul’s head with its messed up hair, and finally she too could glimpse that awesome spectacle: on each and every Nation’s flag there was a transparent array of rainbow colours. The adults just looked at one another and then at Luz’s eyes and back to one another:

  - I only want to look at the colours – concluded the little girl.

  And with a warm hug amongst them, they both realized at the same time, of the girl’s innocence and that Raul was late for work.

  In all the schools’ courtyards across the globe, there is a fundamental rule, two actually: the first one being, playing football during lunch break is strictly forbidden, and the second one is the grouping of teams. All the boys are gathered on one side, whilst the girls are gathered precisely on the opposite side of the boys.

  For the first time ever, in the Primary School No. 19 on Plaza Dardo Rocha, both rules were broken at the same time: a mixture of boys and girls, all dusty from the ground, were taking part in a match, all together. Partly, it was the World Cup’s fault, but also because of a challenging girl who was a repeater from last year, whose name was Patricia Valera. She was strong at taking penalties.

  - Why don’t you show us then? If you’re as good at scoring as you’re as good at telling fibs, then Menotti will be asking for you. You, to take part in the next football match against Italy – threatened Walter.

  - You, Walter Mascheroni, shut up! You’re the one who should talk least! I’ve seen you, you know, when you don’t stop singing ‘the beautiful laundry’ with the friends of your cousin Laura. At least I’m not ashamed to say that I like playing a sport that’s cut out for boys, whilst you, I would bet on it that you’ve never told your friends that you enjoy singing ‘washing handkerchiefs / for the poor ones / of the city.

  In the meantime, whilst Patricia was still making fun of him, he had changed colours, from pink to bright red in shame and blue in anger. He thought that now was the time to give a lesson to Patricia Valera, and on that, he was certain that the rest would agree with him, even the girls. To give her a lesson by playing a football match, males against females, was perhaps asking for too much.

  -Ok, then come here so I show you how the poor ones of the city are treated: stay as the goalkeeper so I’ll wash all your handkerchiefs!

  But to this challenge Patricia retaliated with her own piece of mind:

  - You be the goalkeeper and I’ll show you how to do the washing up!

  And that was just the tip on the iceberg, now there was no escape. Walter was on the edge to run towards Patricia and give her a good beating. He was fuming in anger. Luckily, Guglielmo stopped the fight in the nick of time, to avoid anything more serious:

  - And if we organize a mixed match of boys against girls?

  - Meaning what? – shouted a boy from another class, from amongst the crowd.

  - meaning we get the ball, we do the goalposts, Walter chooses a boy and a girl in turns, and the same is to be done by Patricia: the one who scores most goals by the end of the recreation time, wins.

  The majority shouted in agreement, some thought that this was a stupid idea and therefore carried on doing something else, Carlos and Jorge turned to face Alfredo and Miguel. Only Walter and Patricia seemed to hesitate, actually to say it all, Walter had turned his stormy look towards Guglielmo. The look said it all, Guglielmo was a sissy and he meant to pay him back, and as for Patricia, the game
would take her of her.

  Walter was never going to hold back from a challenge, and therefore, even though he was wicked and preferred a payback resulting in harm or injury, he accepted and took to the challenge. He called out his team members one by one, his trustworthy friend, Hugo the first to be called amongst them.

  - You have to rip him off another sticker, that silly know it all! – urged Walter.

  - He never brings the sticker album at school, the teacher doesn’t want him to – stated his friend.

  -I know, but since when he started to suspect that his sister was pulling out the stickers from it, he doesn’t trust leaving it at home, and so carries it with him, in his backpack. Alfredo told me this. So, go now, rest assured: it’s in his backpack. Go!

  Meanwhile the magnificent ball, which was called tango, the official world cup ball, was already rolling around in the football pitch. All the newspaper adverts, didn’t have anything else to report other than on this incredible ball. A ball of the new generation, a ball that was faster when compared to others. To sum it all up, there was nothing out of the ordinary about it, it looked just like an ordinary ball: white, black and of course round, round enough and useful only, for playing football with.

  The teams were forming up quickly with Walter and Patricia yelling alternatively a consecutive ‘you’ after which a shuffle in position from one side or to the other took place. What was obvious was that Guglielmo and his friends had been called out by Patricia, and hence continued in their challenge with their forever rivals. Hugo’s absence had however put Alfredo on edge with suspicion:

  - Where is Hugo? – he asked Walter who was frowning more than ever.

  -I’ve sent him on a mission.

  - A mission where?

  - Are you also going to act dumb? You know quite well where he’s gone to.

  -Don’t tell me that...... the stickers – and for Alfredo it seemed as though the ground caved down from under his feet. It felt like in a moment everything would come crushing down on his head.