Victor was surprised by a pang of jealousy.
“I thought maybe you would like to go, Ignacio. To talk to these people. You might benefit from it too.”
“Me? I don’t think so, Michael. It’s very kind of you, but I don’t need such a place.” The chance of being recognized was too great. Someone who knew the real Perez. No, no, he could not consider it, even though it meant passing up a chance to get closer to Lorca.
“Think about it. Lorca is getting better-you noticed the change yourself.”
“Goddamnit!” Someone was shouting in the outer office.
Viera, followed by Victor, got up to see what was going on.
His client was standing in the middle of the reception area, clutching her arm. “Goddamnit!” she said again. “I don’t believe this place!”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“She hit me. Your goddamn receptionist hit me, that’s what’s wrong.”
Lorca was gone.
“Are you all right?” Viera said. “Let me see.”
The woman took her coat off and showed him her upper arm.
“There’s no bruise,” Viera said. “Please sit down for a moment and tell me what happened.”
“I will find Lorca,” Victor said.
He took the stairs down to the street. He searched through the crowds, stepped into two coffee shops and a McDonald’s, but she was not there. He stopped into a laundromat, a liquor store, even a psychic’s storefront. Not finding her, he finally gave up and went back to Viera’s office, passing the outraged client as she left the building.
Viera was staring forlornly out at the avenue.
“Did she tell you what happened, your client?”
“She says all she did, she asked to use the phone. To see if she could get off work a certain day. It took her a while to get through, and Lorca asked for the phone back. My client asked her to wait a minute and Lorca lost her temper. Her nerves are so bad, Ignacio. She has no patience at all.”
“I’m sure she’ll get better. It’s a matter of time, that’s all.”
“Delay of any kind-the slightest wait for anything-it makes her crazy. Absolutely crazy.”
“At the little school, they would make the prisoners wait. It was part of the punishment. They would sit a prisoner in that room and just make them wait and wait, knowing what was going to happen. But not when.”
“I don’t know what to do, Ignacio. I am her brother, but there is only so much I can do. Already, it is putting a strain on my marriage. My business too, if this keeps up. This has cost me a client. That woman is not coming back, you know. I don’t blame her, either.”
“It’s hard for you, I know. You are very good to your sister.”
“She hates being so dependent on me. I know she hates it-it hurts her pride, although she doesn’t say so. You’ll still come for dinner on Saturday?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Thank you. She needs a friend, Ignacio. Not a relative, a friend. Someone she can trust, someone she can respect.”
“I would be happy to be that friend, Michael. Except your sister has no reason to respect me.”
“Oh, you are wrong. You know what she said the day we went to the park? She and Helen had a fight on the way home, they’re always fighting. Later, I went up to Lorca’s room. I wanted to tell her about this support place.” He held up the yellow brochure. “I was telling her about it and saying how it might speed her recovery. And you know what she said? She said, ‘I know you want me to be like Ignacio Perez, but I cannot. I could never be strong like he is.’ That’s what she said.”
“I am not strong,” Victor said. It was all he could think of to say, and he repeated it. “I am not strong at all.” He felt an ashen grief that Lorca could be so deceived. It’s as if I go on and on tormenting her, he thought. As if I cannot stop.
TWENTY-ONE
A couple of days earlier, Victor had made a discovery. One of the waiters at Le Parisien had told him of a three-dollar cinema not far from the restaurant. Victor had assumed such a cheap place would be down-at-heels and depressing. He imagined holes in the movie screen, broken seats, a floor tacky with chewing gum. So he was first surprised, then disbelieving, when the theatre turned out to be a grand place with deep blue carpeting and huge screens. He had never set foot in such a beautiful theatre.
Full of excitement, he purchased a ticket for a science fiction movie, even though he would have to leave before the end to get back for his second shift. The film had a great many explosions and truly revolting wormlike aliens, and Victor enjoyed it immensely. Then came a scene where an unlucky earthling was immobilized upon a table and the aliens did something to him that made him scream and scream. If he lived in the world portrayed in the movie, Victor would be numbered among those alien worms, not among human beings. Clearly, he couldn’t take Lorca to a movie like this. Perhaps a romantic story or a comedy, she might enjoy one of those.
He had wanted to ask her at Viera’s office. Before his discovery of the three-dollar theatre he had not thought he could afford such an extravagance. His pay as a kitchen helper was barely above minimum wage, and the cost of taking a woman to the movies was staggering: after Coke and popcorn you were looking at twenty dollars or more.
But the fantasy had stayed with him and flowered into detail over the following days. Victor saw himself sitting next to Lorca in the darkened theatre, saw the two of them laughing at amusing antics onscreen, felt her fingers brush against his in the popcorn bag. Reflections from the screen cast a silvery glow on Lorca’s hair, and when Victor reached for her hand, she gave his an answering squeeze.
But three dollars. She might think he valued her cheaply. She might think he had no class. Of course, she didn’t have to know it cost only three dollars. He could buy the tickets ahead of time and maybe distract her a little as they entered.
Saturday night, eight o’clock. For once, Victor was grateful that the chef’s nephew worked Saturday nights.
He arrived at the Viera house on the dot of eight. Lorca greeted him at the door, wearing a long patterned skirt and a deep red blouse that was very flattering.
“Ignacio,” she said. “You are so good to come when I have been so awful. I’m very glad you’re here.” Her attire was so colourful, her manner so bright, that Victor’s mood changed immediately from apprehension to confidence.
Viera was in the living room, watching a baseball game. He bounced out of his chair and clicked off the TV the moment Victor came in. “Just in time for a beer, Ignacio. I was about to pour one for myself. Come in, come in, make yourself at home.”
Victor followed him into the kitchen, where Helen Viera was chopping vegetables and tossing them into a pot. “Well, well, it’s our goodwill ambassador from El Salvador,” she said. “This is an honour.”
Victor couldn’t be sure if she was making fun of him, but perhaps that edgy feeling came from the
“Oh, we’re humble folk here,” Helen said. “I’m sure it will be more than adequate.”
Viera took the bottle and examined the label. “
Viera busied himself searching for a corkscrew. Lorca reached into the fridge and opened a beer, handing it to Victor. “He’s forgotten you. Miguel’s head can contain only one thought at a time.”
“It means he’s at least honest, Helen. More lawyers should be like him.”
