No Place for Heroes

24

“IT’S NOW OR never. I’m going to call him,” Mateo announced as soon as he awoke, and Lorenza thought that this time he was really going through with it. “Where is it!” he screamed, suddenly giving his mother a horrified look.

“Where is what, for God’s sake? Why do you get all worked up like this?”

“The notebook, Lorenza,” Mateo declared in a lugubrious tone. “The notebook where I wrote down what I was going to say.” He fell back on the sofa, defeated, and she started to look for it. In a few minutes, she discovered it, mixed up with some magazines.

“You found it?” he asked surprised, as if a miracle had just occurred. “Ramón Iribarren, I am your son, Mateo Iribarren. I have come to Buenos Aires to meet you,” he read in a loud voice for the thousandth time since they had arrived. He knew the passage by heart, but kept repeating it nevertheless, like a mantra, like a spell. Lorenza had been watching him closely. Her son was readying himself for the encounter with his father as if it were a ceremony. Or a duel.

“Now or never,” Mateo repeated and stared at the phone like a viper hypnotizing its prey before pouncing. But instead of picking up the receiver, he opted for the remote and turned on the television.

“I’ll call in a little while. I swear,” he assured his mother, as if he owed her anything. “Shit, the Rolling Stones! A concert right here in Buenos Aires. I can’t believe it. Look, look, they’re going to be at the River Plate Stadium. Let’s go, Lorenza. Can we go? Are you even watching? This is historic, the chance of a lifetime. Damn, I love the Stones! I’d rather see the Stones a thousand times more than Ramón. Fuck Ramón, Lolé, let’s go see the Stones. That would be enough for me. I swear that if I get to see them I’ll return in peace to Bogotá and I’ll stop bugging you about my father and Buenos Aires. It’ll be a lot cooler to tell my friends how I saw the Stones than bore them with how I met some bald guy who’s my father.”

So they went to the stadium in the Belgrano District to see the Stones, who were touring with Bob Dylan. Aurelia had to settle for very expensive tickets from the hotel’s concierge, the only ones left on the planet because the concert was sold out. When they arrived, Mateo bought himself a Bridges to Babylon T-shirt and on the way out couldn’t stop talking, he was so excited.

“Spectacular, truly genius,” he repeated as they tried to move through the crowd, which was leaving the stadium in droves. “Not to lessen the experience, but it’s pretty strange to go to a Stones concert with your own mother, for how can you get all worked up and crazy with your own mother right there? Although, if you think about it, the Stones are probably more from your generation than from mine, Lolé. It’s funny how you knew all the lyrics better than I did. And what a drag, they didn’t play ‘Paint It Black,’ even though we yelled, they pretended not to hear, but Dylan did play ‘Like a Rolling Stone,’ he wrote that, that song, he wrote it, and then the Stones took the name, I think that’s how it was, and then they had a falling-out with Dylan and that’s why tonight’s reunion is historic, Lorenza, once in a lifetime, the Stones and Dylan are friends again and I got to see it! Do you understand? Me, Mateo Iribarren! But you’re a geek, Mother, how can you have liked the small stage better; what a loser, you showed your age there, you’re definitely ancient, liking that little retro stage because it was more like the ones from your era, but the fucking real show was on the big stage, pulling out all the technological stops, blasted with light, and you ecstatic over that pathetic little stage. The best part was the blue hoop, exploding during the fireworks while they played ‘Satisfaction,’ and everything else turned blue. Didn’t you love that blue hoop of light? Unbelievable … you know what I’m talking about, right, Lorenza? The blue splendor when they sang ‘Satisfaction,’ or didn’t you notice? What could you possibly have been thinking about, Mother, it was impossible not to notice that blue light, I don’t know why I brought you, waste of money there. Don’t laugh, it’s not funny, at my age it’s a complete mistake to go to a concert with your mother. You don’t notice these things, but right next to me there was a pretty girl, a very, very pretty Argentinean girl, and she kept looking at me and I was horrified, trying very hard for her not to notice that I was with my mother, or for her not to think you were my girlfriend, my older girlfriend, that would have been even worse. But why the hell should I care if she thought I was some loser who went to concerts with his mother? Everything got screwed up, so what, I was never going to see her again anyway. It was cold as a bitch, right, Lolé? But inside it wasn’t so bad, and once I got jumping and screaming, I was sweating like a horse. Shit, I think I ruined my Bridges to Babylon shirt, it’s drenched, it probably stinks. You think it’ll be all right if I wash it in the hotel? Or maybe I can send it to the dry cleaners. Yeah, maybe I’ll just send it to the dry cleaners to be safe. You know inside we were all warm and bunched together, but now I’m freezing to death. Are you? What did Forcás say? If this is how cold it gets for the living, how must it be for the dead? I already told you, Lorenza, I’m not zipping up my coat. If I zip it up, you can’t see my new shirt, so what’s the point? Thank you, thank you, thank you for inviting me tonight, it was the best, Lolé. The bad thing is how much money we spent. But it was worth it, right? Everything was worth it, a thousand times worth it, a million times, and thanks for my T-shirt, too, this has been the best part about coming to Buenos Aires, the Stones. Bob Dylan is so tiny, right? He looks like a gnome, right? But he’s a giant. A little old, but still a giant. What, you don’t like my T-shirt? So the fabric is a little sticky, so what? Only a mother could find fault with a Bridges to Babylon T-shirt because the fabric is a little sticky. Stiff? The fabric is stiff? Yeah, a little bit, but it doesn’t matter. Does Ramón like the Rolling Stones, Lolé? I think he likes them. I think if he liked Argentinean rock, the Rolling Stones are up his alley, they’re from his era. And to think we were in the stadium of the Río team, the archrivals of Boca Juniors, the team Ramón is crazy about. You told me that Ramón was a Boca fan and that he went to fútbol games at La Bombonera. You didn’t make that up, did you? What would Ramón say if he knew we went to the River Plate Stadium?”