Chapter 36 villain

The image of cities in our minds has always been a little anachronistic.Cafes degenerate into bars; foyers that open onto courtyards with glimpses of grape trellises are now dark corridors with elevators at the end.For years I remembered that near Via Talcahuano was the Buenos Aires Bookstore; one morning I discovered that it had been replaced by an antique shop and heard that the owner, Don Santiago Fischbaine, had died.Fischbain was a fat man; I don't remember exactly what he looked like, but I do remember our long chat.Unflappable, he often denounced Zionism, saying that it made Jews ordinary people, bound like everyone else to a single tradition, a single state, no longer the richness of their present complexity and divergence.He also told me that, at the time, he was compiling a vast anthology of Baruch Spinoza, cutting out the profusion of Euclidean geometry that got in the way of reading, and adding illusory rigor to the whimsical theories .He showed me a rare copy of Rosenroth's The Outbreak of Jewish Mysticism, but he wouldn't sell it to me, although I bought some of Ginsberg's and Waite's in my collection at his store.

One afternoon, just the two of us, he told me about an episode in his life that I can share today.Of course, some details need to be changed. "I'm going to tell something that I've never told anyone. My wife Anna doesn't know it, and neither does my best friend. It was years ago, and it's a world away now. Maybe for you as a story Of course you will tailor it. I don’t know if I told you, but I’m from Entre Ríos. We’re not Jewish gauchos; there never was a Jewish gaucho. We’re merchants and small estate owners I was born in Urdinalán and have no memory of that place; I was very young when my parents came to Buenos Aires to set up shop. Our house is a few blocks from the Maldonado River, and then The past was a wasteland.

"Carlyle said that people need heroes. Grosso's biography made me worship San Martin, but I found out that he was just a soldier who fought in Chile and is now the name of a bronze statue and a square. An accident Chance brought me to meet a very different hero: Francisco Ferrari, unfortunately for both of us. That was the first time I heard his name. One says our neighborhood isn't as wild as Colares and Bajo, but there's a bunch of loafers in every grocery store.Ferrari always soaked in the three ruling - Thames grocery store.One of the things that made me an admirer of him happened there.I'm going to buy a quart of yerba mate.A stranger with long hair and a beard came up and asked for a gin.Ferrari said to him kindly:

"Hey, didn't we meet last night at the Juliana Ballroom? Where are you from? "San Cristobal, the other said. "I have a word of advice, hinted Ferrari, that you don't come here any more. There are some unreasonable people here who might displease you. "The man from San Cristobal flicked his beard and walked away. Maybe he was no worse than the other party, but he knew that a strong dragon couldn't beat a snake. "From that afternoon onwards, Francisco Ferrari became my hero at fifteen. He was solid, rather tall, handsome, and fashionable. He always wore black. Before long, we The second thing happened. I was with my mother and aunt; we met some young men, and one of them said to the rest in a rough voice:

"Let them go. Granny. "I was at a loss. That's when Ferrari came out of the house and he intervened. He confronted the provocative man and said: "Since you want to find something, why don't you find me? "He looked at them slowly side by side, and no one said anything. They knew Ferrari. "He greeted us with a shrug and walked away. Before leaving, he said to me: "If you're okay, go to the hotel later." "I was dumbfounded. My aunt Sarah said: "A gentleman who made ladies respectful. "My mother was afraid that I would not be able to step down, so she commented:

"I think he is a bachelor who can't tolerate others. "There are some things I don't know how to explain to you. Now I'm in a mess, I have this bookstore I like, I read books here, I have friends like you, I have a wife and children, I join I joined the Socialist Party, I was a good Argentinian citizen, I was a good Jew. I was a respected man. Now you see my hair is almost bald; I was a poor Russian boy with red hair in the suburbs. People looked down on me. Like all young people, I try to be like others. I took the name San Diego to avoid the original Jacob, and the last name Fishbine didn't move. We all try to conform to what people expect to see us like ... I realized that people despised me, and I despised myself. In those days, especially in that environment, it was important to be brave; but I knew I was a coward. I was terrified when I saw women; I was afraid of myself. Virginity shame. I don't have friends my age.

"I didn't go to the grocery store that night. I just kept going. I always felt that Ferrari's invitation was commanding. I walked into the place after dinner on a Saturday. "Ferrari sat at a table. There were six or seven people, all of whom I knew. Except for an old man, Ferrari was the oldest. The old man didn't speak much, and his expression was very tired. Only his name I always remember : Don Eliseo Amaro. His broad, slack face has a scar running across it. Later I heard he had a lawsuit. "Ferrari asked Don Eliseo to move a place and let me sit on his left. I was so flattered that I didn't know where to put my hands and feet. I was afraid that Ferrari would mention the embarrassment of me the other day. No mention; they talked about women, poker, elections, a singer who should have been there, and things in the district. At first they didn't fit in with me; then they accepted me because Ferrari wanted them to. Although they Most of them have Italian surnames, and they all feel that they are born and bred, even Gaucho, and others also feel this way. Some of them drive caravans, some are handlebars, and even butchers; they often deal with livestock, and their temperament is close to that of farmers. I I think their biggest wish was to be like Juan Moreira. They ended up calling me Ronaldinho, but the nickname wasn't meant to be pejorative. I learned from them to smoke and stuff.

"In a brothel in Rua Junín, I was asked if I was a friend of Francisco Ferrari. I said no; I thought it would be bragging to say yes. "One night, the police came in and questioned us. Some had to go to the police station; they didn't touch Ferrari. Half a month later, it happened again; this time Ferrari was taken away, too, in his waist There's a dagger. Maybe he's out of favor with the district chiefs. "Now I think Ferrari is a poor man, cheated and betrayed; back then he was a god to me. "Friendship is a mystery, no less than love or any aspect of life's chaos. I sometimes feel that the only thing that is not mystical is happiness. For happiness is independent of other things. Courageous, mighty Francis Co Ferrari had friendship with someone who was dismissive of me. I thought he was wrong and I didn't deserve his friendship. I tried to avoid it, but he wouldn't allow it. My mother was adamant against me calling her The gangsters and the gang I imitated added to my uneasiness. The essence of the story I told you was my relationship with Ferrari, not the dirty stuff. As long as the feeling of guilt persists, the guilt exists.

"Back to the old man in the seat next to Ferrari whispering to him. They're plotting. I hear them across the table mentioning the name of Weidman, whose textile mill is in a remote location near the suburbs. No How long, without any explanation, they told me to go around the factory, paying special attention to the number of doors and their location. It was evening when I crossed the river and the railway. I remember a few scattered houses and a willow forest nearby. , several pits. The factory is newly built, but it has a somewhat desolate atmosphere; its red brick walls are now confused with the sunset in my memory. There is an iron railing around the factory. In addition to the main entrance, there are two south-facing doors. The back door leads directly to the factory house.

"You may have understood, but I was slow to understand what they were up to. I reported, and another boy confirmed what I said. His sister worked in the factory. It was arranged that there would be a Saturday night. To the grocery store; Ferrari decides to rob next Friday. I'm the lookout. Until then, it's best not to be seen together. As we walked down the street, I asked Ferrari: "Can you trust me? "Of course," he said back. I know you're a man. "I slept soundly that night and the following nights. On Wednesday, I said to my mother that I was going downtown to see the new rodeo. I put on my best clothes and went to Moreno Street. The tramway was very Long. When I arrived at the police station, they asked me to wait. Finally, a staff member surnamed Alder or Alter received me. I said that I had something confidential to tell. He let me speak boldly. I revealed to him that Ferrari was planning It surprised me that he didn't know the name; it was different when I mentioned Don Eliseo.

"Oh, he said. That used to belong to the East End gang. "He called in another police officer who was in charge of my district, and the two talked for a while. One of them asked me in a slightly sarcastic tone: "Do you think you're a good citizen to report? "I thought he knew me too little, and replied: "Yes, sir. I am a good Argentine. "They ordered me to carry out my chief's orders as usual, but they found that when the police arrived, they should not whistle and give the agreed signal. As I was leaving, one of the two warned me: "You've got to be careful. You know what happens when you scramble. "The two police officers uttered the sarcasm like fourth-graders. I replied: "It would be nice if they killed me, I wish I could. "Early Friday morning, I felt relieved that the fateful day had finally come, and felt ashamed that I hadn't felt guilty at all. The time passed extremely slowly. I barely touched dinner. At ten o'clock in the evening, we were not far from the textile factory. Meet at a block. One of us didn't make it; Don Eliseo says there are always scumbags who run away. I think it's all the fault of him afterwards. It's going to rain. I'm afraid someone will stay with me I was with me, but they left me alone outside a back door. Soon the police appeared, led by an officer. They came on foot; so as not to startle the enemy, they left the horses in a clearing. Ferra The door had been broken down, and the group quietly entered the textile factory. Suddenly, I was startled by four shots. I think they were killing in the dark in the house. Then, I saw the police coming out with the handcuffed boys. Then Two cops, dragging Ferrari and Don Eliseo. They were shot. The interrogation records say they resisted arrest and fired first. I know that's a lie because I've never seen them with a handgun. The police used this as an opportunity to clear old accounts. Later I heard that Ferrari was trying to escape and a bullet ended him. Of course, the papers made him the hero he probably never was, but I dreamed of being. "I was arrested with others and I was released shortly after."