The Dog Fighter (25 page)

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Authors: Marc Bojanowski

BOOK: The Dog Fighter
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Why? Rodríguez asked.

Well. Ramón looked to me and then to Elías but we stayed quiet because we did not understand and thought it was another of Ramóns jokes.

This is just something we do. Vargas answered immediately. We will tell you when it is over.

When you are a dog fighter. Ramón smiled.

Rodríguez took the pencil. He chose a number in his mind and wrote it down on the paper.

But you cannot tell us. Ramón said. That will break the tradition.

When Rodríguez was finished he went to hand the folded paper to Vargas but Ramón took it instead. Smiling he put it in his pocket. Then Elías tied the rope around the heavy rug that I held tight around the young businessmans forearm.

Is that too much? I asked him.

No. He answered. It is perfect.

Elías then put on Rodríguezs hand the glove fitted with stubby metal claws. Vargas and Ramón took turns teasing the dog snarling at them. Rodríguez took his eyes from the teeth of the dog to inspect the sharp metal. His eyes wide and watery. His legs shook some.

Do not be scared. Elías said in an encouraging voice. You are a fighter of dogs.

We should have gotten you one also. Rodríguez said to Elías.

No no. The doorman shook his head. I am not the man that you are.

Ramón undid the leash from the post but Vargas kept the dog from charging the handsome dog fighter with the end of a long pole he found standing in a corner.

Give him some room. Ramón laughed.

Rodríguez positioned himself across from the dog. He hunched as he had seen us do in the ring. The dog lunged at him but the taut leash kept it back.

He is hungry. Vargas laughed.

But Rodríguez did not flinch. I was surprised that they had let this progress so far. I did not think we would allow him to fight the dog. For as untrained as the dog was he was sure to kill Rodríguez.

Tell us when you are ready. Ramón said.

Vargas stood back with the pole in his hands. Rodríguez drew a deep breath.

Now. He said.

Vargas swung the pole and hit Rodríguez in the back of the head knocking him to the concrete floor. Dazed the young businessman was on all fours reaching up to touch the back of his head when Elías stepped forward and shot him with his revolver in the back of the head. The force of the bullet flipped him over onto his side.

Jesus Christ! Ramón laughed a short nervous laugh.

I did not move. I could not if I wanted to. The dog whimpered and went to a corner. The leash trailing him when Ramón let go. The three men stepped forward. Vargas pushed the body flat on its back with his foot and then spit on the dead businessmans body. Ramón and Elías undressed Rodríguez until he was completely naked.

Tie the dog to the back post. Ramón said to Vargas without looking up from the work. When they find the body they will think the dog did it. Ramón joked.

When Vargas came back to where the other men were undressing the body he asked. Why did you have him choose a number?

Ramón stood and took the folded piece of paper from his pocket careful to not unfold it yet. The naked body at our feet. Blood pooling in an awkward circle following the slope of the concrete floor.

Cantana wants us to cut it off and put it in his mouth.

What! Vargas laughed. Smiling uncertainly. I am not touching it.

Neither am I. Elías said.

No one had said anything to me until Vargas pointed.

He can do it. It is his first time with us.

No. Cantana said this was his introduction. This one is still ours. And I am always the one who is left undressing them and I do not want to be the one to cut it off and put it in his mouth.

I am not touching it. Vargas repeated. Never.

Pick a number between one and ten. Ramón said to Vargas.

No.

Vargas.

There was a great amount of tension between the two fighters. I still did not believe or understand what was taking place between us. Ramón then spoke in a patient explaining tone.

Cantana said to have him pick a number between one and ten. Then when it was done we would do the same and the closest one to it will cut it off and put it in his mouth.

What if it is a tie? Elías asked.

Then we do it together. Ramón answered. One holds it and the other one cuts.

Who puts it in the mouth? Elías asked.

Whoever is holding it.

I think it should be the other way.

I will not do this. Vargas repeated. Staring at the body.

Ramón took the revolver from Elías. He pulled back the hammer and aimed it at the fugitives face.

Jesus. Elías said softly as he stepped back.

A number between one and ten Vargas. Cantanas orders.

Vargas spit at Ramóns feet.

Then you die also. The handsome dog fighter answered confidently.

Vargas! Elías yelled. Do not be stupid.

He is the one who raped the girl! Vargas yelled. Pointing at Rodríguezs body.

And if she had murdered him when he forced himself on her then none of us would be here. But she did not. And so now we are here.

Vargas leveled his eyes at Ramón. There was much hatred in them both.

I will not forget this Ramón.

The men picked their numbers. It was as if I were not even there standing in the basement with them. No one looked to me for anything. They expected me to understand.

Ramón Elías and I waited in the kitchen. Afterward when Vargas stood at the top of the stairs I noticed that he had vomited on himself. We left the dog tied to the pole in the basement. None of us spoke. Vargas did not walk with us back into the city but alone and toward the sea.

I thought of the night of the Christmas party. Some more than two months before when Rodríguez held the railing of the stairs coming down to us drunk with his pants undone to prove his strength. His face flushed. Then I thought this was from excitement but now I thought it was red with embarrassment for what he had done to prove himself to us all. I do not know if it happened that night or some other. But it had been done.

There is no doubt in my mind that the young businessman deserved to die. And strangely in the killing I thought little of Rodríguez and more and more of Cantana. Though he did not kill the young businessman himself it was a decision of his and one for which I held much respect for him. Elías and the other two dog fighters all feared Cantana. But they respected him also. He wanted me to be there to witness his decision. Then I did not know why.

I learned later Ramón Elías and Vargas had been deceiving Rodríguez for some time. That Cantana knew that the young businessman had committed a great crime but there was the matter of being certain.

Cantana is not one to make mistakes. Ramón said to me before I left him and Elías that night. He is a patient man.

And in this time although Rodríguez knew nothing about it the businessman was giving him a chance.

One night in the cantina we worked from Rodríguez a confession. Ramón said to me. We lied to him saying that we had done the same thing plenty of times and asked him what man had not?

For all of their contradictions there was much honesty in Ramón and Elías and Vargas. Much that I admired. I knew they had never deceived me. And in this I could not help but think that much of this came from the time they spent in the company of Cantana. My opinion of the businessman had come from the time I spent with the poet. Not the businessman himself. The thinking of these three young men was not similar to that of the poet. Their passion not like Guillermos. Still there were many contradictions in their behavior. The killing of the innocent men for there to be bodies to be laid out in the large square naked in revenge for the attacks on the hotel. In the basement at Rodríguezs house when Ramón and Elías undressed the young businessman I understood that these three men were responsible for these deaths. For the young man dangling from the scaffolding at the hotel. But they had not deceived me. They worked for Cantana and I did not. I did not know if the poet and Guillermo had lied to me about the innocence of these dead young men. I did not know if Cantana would kill them just for display or if they were guilty. I did not know who to believe but her. I did not question her loyalty.

 

I
slept even less after the death of the young businessman. As my fifth fight approached my body was more and more tired. So much so that I did not hear Javier come up the stairs to knock on my door early one morning his steps were so light.

Get dressed. He whispered. We do not have much dark left.

The smell of baking bread was fresh and warm behind the soot stained walls when we passed a panadería in the neighborhood of the dentist. Javiers strides were so long and quick that even I had some difficulty following. We stepped over a man sleeping drunk in a doorway. He held a hibiscus blossom in his dirty hand. In a second story window above him behind thin green curtains the light from a lamp set on a table shone.

When we crossed the plaza mayor Javier slowed his pace to not be suspicious. We walked side by side. The chairs still stacked for the night. The tables pushed against the walls beneath the awnings rolled back. The thief walked without noise to his steps. Heel first and then to the outside of his foot up off the front of his toes.

Quick and silent. He had said to Jorge and me once in the courtyard to prove his ankle was healing. A thiefs walk. He called it.

Leaving the large plaza I sweated some already we walked so quickly. I followed Javier staying close to the walls. Hidden in the shadows. We slowed again to walk through a small square north of the plaza mayor. Empty but for some mangy dogs scratching themselves against the stones of a well. I had come this way many times on my walks to the salon.

If we are going to the old men tell me now. I warned the thief.

Do not worry. He whispered.

I worry for you.

Javier looked back at me and smiled. In the light of an electric bulb above a door he appeared as if he had not slept in several days. His smile genuine but his eyes drooping and tired.

We passed the salon and the veterans shop. Turned east down an alley that if we had followed the entire length to the bay we would be in front of the hotel. But soon we turned north again and then came into another small square where a line of date palms shaded a row of wood benches. In my late walks I had passed through this square many times. There was a small dry fountain at the center of the square. Stray palm fronds and sand. Cigarette ends. Javier slowed. He walked to one of the middle benches and sat. He gestured for me to do the same. I stood before him as he crossed his legs and stretched out his arms comfortably.

Who are we waiting for?

Sit. He said. And I will tell you.

I clenched my jaw and looked him carefully in the eyes.

She lives there. He said when I did not sit. Pointing across the square behind me to a narrow building with two tall windows above wrought iron balconies on the second floor. She wakes early. The thief smiled. The lamp will come on in that window to the left.

I do not believe you.

I have been following Cantana for some time now for the old men. But last night was the first night I saw him here with her. Then Javier stopped himself. His eyes went to the stones by his feet. She lives here my friend. That is all you need to know.

How did Cantana not see you?

Javier laughed. Smiled as if I had insulted him.

Look at me. I am the best thief this city has ever known. I stayed on the roof over there. Cantana had a man guarding the door all night. He smoked more cigarettes than the poet. Go look on the ground over there if you do not believe me.

Maybe you put them there.

Maybe I am trying to earn your trust.

Javier was correct. He had not told the poet and Guillermo about my love for her. I was almost positive of this.

How do I get onto the roof?

Sit in the café behind us. Javier answered. There are some chairs in the front where you can sit and watch without being seen. No one will suspect you.

Cantana was here last night? I asked but the tone of my voice told Javier what I was asking.

Be grateful for what I have given you dog fighter. Do you understand me?

Yes. I said.

Good. He stood then. It has been a long night. He said. I need sleep.

I sat on the bench until a lamp turned on in the window just as the sun was rising. Just as Javier had promised. I waited for the café to open and then I sat at the table Javier suggested. I ordered rice and beans and hard boiled eggs with tortillas and hot black coffee. For lunch I ate the same. I bought a newspaper and pretended to read it. At some point in the morning the lamp was turned off behind the curtains. I did not see who it was that did this. Later the curtains were pulled back but again I did not see by who. My neck hurt from looking in the direction of her window for so long. My legs grew tired from sitting. Anxious. The owner of the café was a small man whose wife stayed in the back making fresh tortillas and soup from dorado and onions and tomatoes. At lunch some others came into the café but for most of the time it was only the three of us.

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