Horacio Castellanos Moya - Tyrant Memory

2

“Holy shit, we’ve been sentenced to death!” Clemen repeats, still in shock and forgetting that he is playing the part of a sacristan, now that they are riding alone in a compartment where the conductor brought them.

“What did you expect?” says Jimmy, very worried. “I warned you, that bastard won’t forgive anybody. Even Don Agustín is on the list.”

They speak under their breath, guardedly; Clemen has placed his knapsack and his Bible on the seats facing them to discourage other passengers from joining them.

“If they capture us, they’ll execute us immediately,” Clemen mumbled, swallowing hard.

Two women are walking down the aisle; they look into the compartment: they see the priest and the sacristan, then the knapsack and the Bible on the other seats.

“Forgive us, Father,” one of them says, then they continue on their way.

“I shouldn’t have left my gun at Father Dionisio’s house,” Jimmy says with regret.

“It wouldn’t do us any good. ”

“Sure it would. I’m not going to let them take me prisoner.”

The train is picking up speed.

“Hopefully those soldiers won’t show up again,” Clemen says.

“Remember the story we’re going to tell them if they ask for our documents, don’t let your nerves get the better of you. No, better if you let me do the talking, as we agreed.”

“You really screwed Major Sosa: it’s completely your fault he was executed,” Clemen says, distraught.

Jimmy looks out the window at the dry hills and the bottom of the Jiboa Valley. Then he says drily:

“It wasn’t my fault. He was a moron for letting himself get caught. I told him he was done for, even though he didn’t support us, I told him we used his name in the communiqué calling for the uprising. But he didn’t believe me.”

The train starts descending along the side of the valley.

“Really, you warned him?”

“Uh-huh,” Jimmy says and shifts in his seat. “What hurts most is that they executed Second Lieutenant Max Calvo. ”

“He was under your command at the airport?”

They can see the Jiboa River through the window, and further on, the wide Lempa.

Jimmy nods vaguely, lost in his thoughts.

“Goddamn warlock: he killed all three brothers,” Clemen says.

“Alfonso and Tito paid for their cowardice,” Jimmy mutters, “but Max could have saved himself if he’d come with us. ”

A man, obviously drunk, appears at the door to their compartment; he sways back and forth, it looks like the movement of the train is going to throw him flat on his back.

“Good day, Father. May I sit with you for a while?” he asks, his voice slurred.

Clemen looks at Jimmy.

“You mustn’t disturb us, we are about to begin our prayers.”

“Just a little while, Father. All this swaying has made me dizzy. ”

“Your dizziness smells a lot like alcohol.,” Jimmy replies, and he gestures to Clemen to pick up his Bible.

The drunk falls into the seat facing Clemen; he’s a short, squalid-looking man wearing filthy clothes, as if he’d been sleeping on the streets, with no socks and scuffed shoes.

“Forgive me, Father,” he mumbles, after letting out a loud belch. He looks at Clemen, his eyes unsteady, and says, “What an ugly sacristan you’ve found yourself. ”

Jimmy smiles; Clemen is again grinning like an imbecile.

“Don’t be misled by appearances, my child, for beauty resides in the soul.”

Clemen turns to Jimmy, looking even more docile.

“This guy looks like a retard,” the drunk man says, disdainfully, without taking his eyes off Clemen; then he turns to Jimmy.

“Forgive me, Father.”

“My knapsack.,” Clemen says, getting up to grab it and taking the opportunity to stamp on the drunk’s foot.

He lets out a groan. “What’s the matter with this retard!” he exclaims, and gives him a shove.

Without warning, Clemen punches him hard in the stomach. The drunk keels over, his mouth gaping open.

“Brother!” Jimmy shouts.

“He’s going to throw up!” Clemen says, retreating into the aisle.

At that very moment, the two soldiers appear behind Clemen, who doesn’t notice them.

“Officers, please!” Jimmy cries out, and points to the drunk with a look of disgust.

Clemen turns to look at the soldiers; the blood drains from his face, as if he were in shock. They request permission to enter and remove the drunk, who is clutching his stomach and trying to catch his breath with his mouth hanging open.

“You got away from us, Hoot.,” says the taller, darker soldier with wiry hair.

“Forgive us, Father, but this bum always sneaks on in San Vicente and proceeds to harass decent people,” says the other one, chubby with fair skin and a gold tooth.

The soldiers pick him up and take him out. Clemen moves aside; again his face has assumed a meek expression.

“That retard hit me.,” the drunk mutters, still breathing with difficulty.

“We’re going to hit you harder,” the darker-skinned soldier says, shoving him down the corridor.

Clemen returns to his seat: he takes a deep breath, picks up the Bible, and opens it at random. He sits there reading, and perspiring. Jimmy looks at him out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asks in an undertone.

“That piece of shit pushed me over the edge. I’m too tense.”

“Take it easy. Our lives are at stake. We were lucky those soldiers didn’t see you. If they’d come a few seconds earlier. ”

“I hope they don’t believe anything he says.,” Clemen says, looking scared.

The whistle blows three times. The train slows as it descends into the valley.

Clemen swats at a fly buzzing in front of his face.

“Hoot. what a name.,” Jimmy says. “He didn’t look like an owl, did he?”

“Nope.”

“Are you still angry?” Jimmy asks, mockingly.

“God damn piece of shit. He even brought flies in here.”

Jimmy looks off into the distance; then, with a touch of apprehension, he says:

“I hope one of the Whites is at the hacienda.”

“Yeah. but it’s okay even if they’re not. If we make it there, we’ll be safe. We’ll get on a plane. ”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Lindbergh. You’ll fly it, then?”

“There’s always a pilot and a plane at the hacienda. I know that for a fact. Either Pepe Dárdano or Moris Pérez can fly us out.”

“Let’s pray,” Jimmy says.

Clemen turns to him in surprise, then says sarcastically:

“You’ve even tricked yourself into believing you’re a priest. ”

The clattering increases as the train brakes through the descent.

“It feels weird — no mustache after so many years,” Jimmy mumbles, rubbing his upper lip.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers appears in the doorway; it’s the chubby one with the gold tooth. Clemen is caught off guard, but quickly makes himself look like an idiot again.

“Forgive me, Father, but I’d like to speak with you for a moment,” the soldier says, removing his helmet to show his respect.

“Would you like to confess, my son?”

The car sways around the curve.

“Not exactly, Father. I just want to ask you a question. ”

“Come in, my son,” Jimmy says, and invites him to sit down on the seat in front of him. “But leave your weapon out there, you can’t be armed when you speak to God.”

The soldier tries to lean his rifle between the seat and the wall of the compartment, but the movement of the train makes this impossible. So he sits down and lays the rifle across his legs and the seat next to him, along with the helmet.

Jimmy points to the weapon and says:

“Not like that, my son. I repeat: you cannot be armed if you wish to speak with a representative of our Lord.”