A Sorority of Angels (4 page)

“Why Mr. deLorenzo how sudden and unexpected. I accept.”

They laughed and hugged as they followed the children.

“Tomorrow’s better, Tomayo. By then the apartment should be ready.”

“Your apartment is already cleaned and phone connected. When I heard you were coming, I hired a cleaning service. Marisa sends her best regards. She had to leave for her country residence. A problem there. I’m glad you’re home.”

She held him with both arms. “I missed you. You make me wish I never should have left. Thank you.”

“A story for another time.”

“Are you well, Tomayo? How’s your business?”

“I’m well. The electronics business is well. Being the President’s nephew hasn’t hurt any, or helped much either, more like a balanced standoff.”

Reaching outdoors and the busy pickup area, Guenther loaded luggage in Steinerman’s limousine while directing Esmeralda and children to his.

“Tomayo, did Uncle Rafael tell you I was coming today?” Pilar asked puzzled.

“No. I haven’t seen Uncle Rafael in nine months. I call but my calls never go through.”

Pilar looked surprised. “Isn’t that strange? Why?”

“We can also talk about that tomorrow.”

“Then how did you know or did you suddenly turn psychic?”

“Ambassador Estaban called me last week from New York. He probably notified Uncle Rafael, why Steinerman showed up. He’s a good man, a loyal friend to Uncle Rafael. He knows what’s going on down here, and why he called me direct.”

“You make it all sound so ominous. I’m getting worried. What’s going on?”

“Tell you all tomorrow. Keep it to yourself that he called me.”

“My curiosity can’t wait.”

“It must.”

He turned his back to Guenther.

“I don’t mean to sound mysterious or alarming, but be careful what you say. The chauffeur is a Steinerman henchman who’ll report what you say and do. Dismiss him after you get home.”

“I don’t understand. I could use a car here.”

“You don’t need him or the limo.”

“If you say so.”

He smiled. “You’d be happier if you did as I say.”

She kissed his cheek. “You’d better show up tomorrow night. About nine?”

“About nine.”

Tomayo watched them pull away.

His joyous expression turned to concern as the limousine faded, knowing Pilar was in danger.

The crawling return to democracy disenchanted General Rafael deLorenzo. With human rights violated, many fled to surrounding countries: Uruguay, Brazil, Chile, Paraguay, and Bolivia.

The worst economic crisis in Argentina’s history occurred; mass riots, the freeze on banks, canceling withdrawals, plus the government’s default with much of the country’s two-hundred billion in public debt, forced the government out.

With organizational expertise of men like Klaus Steinerman, General deLorenzo gathered support for a new takeover including younger military leaders, which included many with Germanic backgrounds. Rallying left-wing guerrillas from the hills and underground, deLorenzo supporters staged riots in Cordoba and Rosario, the second and third largest cities northwest of Buenos Aires.

Carlos deLorenzo believed his uncle’s cause as the final solution to Argentina’s relentless history. He left his business, owned with Tomayo, and became the leading aide to his uncle due to his intelligence and abundant energies. He received this high position to the chagrin of Steinerman and his aides.

General Rafael deLorenzo espoused democracy, free elections, human rights, a strong economy, chastised the past’s unstable governments, promised eternal order and peace, and safe return to all Argentineans who fled. Eternal order and peace blared as grandiose promises he believed possible. The people heard what they wanted to hear.

University students around the country rallied to his cause by organizing demonstrations. A strong labor movement struck the nation for deLorenzo and democracy, and with this open and widespread encouragement, the deLorenzo forces advanced on Buenos Aires.

Carlos deLorenzo’s body lay on a steep hill behind the Casa Rosada Palace with six bullets in it.

General Rafael deLorenzo assumed the presidency. At a mass grave of several of many killed in the name of democracy and a new future, President deLorenzo swore screaming at the apex of his voice that these dead did not die in vain and their sacrifice would serve as the cornerstone for a new democratic and peaceful Argentina with new elections in the near future.

A devastated Pilar buried Carlos a day later with a private service outside of Buenos Aires in the suburb of San Isidro.

The drive lasted an hour to Pilar’s luxury apartment in Palermo, a Buenos Aires suburb fewer than thirty minutes from central city. Pilar roamed her apartment as though never leaving the home she decorated. When she entered the living room furnished in Italian Renaissance, she saw the flowers. With expectation, she hastened to them, sniffed the flowers, read the label on the champagne bottle then opened a small envelope.

The card brought a smile as its message embraced and warmed her.

‘Pilar, welcome home. It has been a long time for those who missed you to live without the sun. Tomayo.’

Pilar smiled remembering Tomayo had a way with words, a gift for poetry. She kissed his name, put the note in her purse, and bottle in the refrigerator to save for tomorrow evening.

“Mrs. deLorenzo, I have been ordered in your service. Is there anything I can do?” Guenther asked after delivering the last two pieces of luggage.

“I have no further use of your good time. I’m sure Mr. Steinerman can find a better assignment for you. Thank you for your service.”

He bowed and left.

Curious about Tomayo’s cautious words, she hurried to the window to watch Guenther, who came into view from beneath the awning and hastened past the limousine to a gray Mercedes-Benz, spoke to the driver then left in the limousine. The Mercedes remained parked. She saw a man’s obscure figure pick up a newspaper to read.

The first night was difficult, torturous.

Pilar closed the door to her bedroom and changed into a nightgown. The bedroom, with a king size bed, had contemporary furniture and scattering of small Persian rugs in contrasting colors and patterns over a marble floor.

A photo of Carlos brought sadness. She picked up the framed photo as if handling a precious icon and wiped his face lovingly before placing the frame on the bureau with yearning.

Plane trips exhausted Pilar and the excitement of seeing Tomayo again, lack of sleep, and long car ride brought fatigue. She pulled the sheet and lay staring after clicking off the table lamp.

Her left hand reached towards Carlos’s side, body edging closer. Then Pilar hugged Carlos’s pillow and squeezed hard wrapping her body around it.

A long, gnarled sound escaped before her eyes wet the pillow.

“Pilar, Antonio says a chauffeur is downstairs for you,” hollered Esmeralda.

“Who from?” Pilar sat in the kitchen having breakfast with her children. She could hear Esmeralda echoing her question into the front door intercom.

“From Tomayo.”

“Be right there.” Suspicious, she left and spoke into the intercom. “This is Mrs. deLorenzo.”

“My name is Alejandro Mendoza, Tomayo’s associate.”

“And how do I know that?”

“He said to get plenty of rest because he’s going to keep you out all night. I’ll be here should you need me.”

Pilar chuckled and thought how to utilize him today.

“I’ll need you in an hour, Alejandro. Do you know where the San Isidro Cemetery is?”

“Yes.”

Esmeralda showed concern.

“So soon? Give yourself a small break.”

“Today is for the children. They must never forget their father. I will always remind them how he died so they could live in a better world…and today is for me. After today, I will live again. My mourning and sadness must end.”

Alejandro Mendoza, medium sized and middle-aged with a thick black mustache, stood by his blue Cadillac Escalade. He wore a long sleeve colorful sport shirt outside the pants. Alejandro guessed the exiting and approaching entourage as his passengers. He waved and opened the vehicle’s doors.

“Good morning, Mrs. deLorenzo.”

“Good morning to you, Alejandro. My name is Pilar. This is Esmeralda, Andres, Roberto, and Sorel.”

Pilar studied the Mercedes across the street.

Alejandro noticed her concern. “How long has he been there?”

“I noticed him yesterday.”

“Don’t concern yourself about him or anything.” He smiled.

The confidence conveyed.

Argentineans revered and respected a trip to a cemetery. Alejandro remained quiet, observant, and watching the Mercedes that followed at a football field distance.

They headed for San Isidro the farthest and largest suburb of Buenos Aires. The Mercedes followed through Belgrano and Nunez. Pilar made several glances over her shoulder at the Mercedes. Alejandro noticed her glances and puzzled expression through the rearview mirror.

“Do you want me to lose him?”

“No,” she replied after a delay, to avoid alarming the children.

They stopped at a florist to purchase two dozen red roses. When they reached the cemetery, Pilar directed Alejandro through an often-visited road that weaved among headstones to gravesite. An uneasy stirring came within Pilar as they slowed and stopped. Gravesite stirred a reminder when she first exposed a tearful heart for all to see, a loss, a suffering unequaled.

Her throat dried remaining vacuous. A threat of rubber legs vanished as she exited with the roses. She willed composure for her children’s sake. Composure reluctantly obeyed. They walked slowly towards the grave. Alejandro stayed behind. The Mercedes parked near the cemetery entrance, and sole exit.

The deLorenzos and Esmeralda stood solemn around the grave as the children watched their mother place the roses by the headstone, and then do her cross with a silent prayer. They did also. Andres had tears as he read his father’s engraved name.

“Sorel and Roberto, do you know who’s here?” Pilar asked.

Sorel nodded, head bowed. Roberto looked to Sorel for the answer.

“Roberto, do you?”

He hoped expressionless that Sorel would help him.

“Sorel?” Pilar inquired.

“Daddy,” she whispered.

“Who is here, Roberto?”

“Daddy.”

“What was Daddy’s name?”

“Carlos deLorenzo,” replied Sorel.

“Carlos deLorenzo,” followed Roberto.

“Your father was strong and brave. He went to heaven fighting for our country. He is a hero of Argentina and he loved you. You must never forget that or him.”

The children nodded. Esmeralda cried sniffling into a handkerchief.

“All right, kids. Go to the car. Esmeralda, go with them. I’ll be along.”

Esmeralda herded them. Sorel and Roberto cried when they saw tears in Andres and Esmeralda’s eyes. Alejandro comforted them when they reached him.

Pilar gazed at the headstone then the earth around it.

“I won’t cry, Carlos. I cannot cry anymore. I must go on though difficult without you for our children’s sake and mine. I will always love you and will never forget you, and desperately miss you.”

She plucked a red rose near the stone’s base before a painful whisper.

“Goodbye, my love.”

Pilar turned and walked away without looking back.