77 by Guillermo Saccomanno

Author:Guillermo Saccomanno
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Letter
Published: 2018-02-13T16:00:00+00:00

4 The wind swept along Avenida de Mayo. A gust fluttered my raincoat and whipped De Franco’s overcoat. As we said goodnight at the door of 36 Billiards, I felt like I was leaving him in the lurch. I placed a hand on his shoulder. An unusual gesture, as we never went beyond a handshake. A compassionate gesture on my part. I couldn’t take any more. Diana would be waiting for me. I hailed a taxi.

The taxi smelled of room deodorizer. The dashboard was a little purple altar with a plastic statuette of the Virgin of Luján. Every so often the driver, a large guy with slicked back hair, pulled a aerosol can out of the glove compartment and squirted a few little bursts of spray.

Does it smell a lot? he asked.

The deodorant? I said.

The stink, the cabby explained.

What stink? I asked.

You have no idea what it was like, the cabby went on. A pregnant chick. About to give birth. Looked like she was about to pop. She stopped me at Jonte and Nazca. Wanted me to take her to Durand Hospital. If she was out alone at that hour of the night, there must’ve been a good reason. What about your hubby? I asked. Gone, she replied. I didn’t ask her any more questions. I played dumb. These times, you know. Paranoia. She was doubled over in pain. She couldn’t stand the contractions. Pray, I told her. That helps. I don’t know how to pray, she told me. Are you from here? I asked her. Muslim, she said. Impossible that she would be putting me on. Muslim. Chicks know how to tough things out. Her water was about to break. And she didn’t say boo. I hit the gas like Fangio, to try to get to the hospital. And those cobblestone streets, besides. We were approaching Donato Álvarez when the military stopped us. An Army truck, a green Falcon. Reflectors and weapons everywhere. They poked an Ithaca against the back of my head. The military squeezed the girl. I don’t know what the hell they were thinking. Like maybe she was carrying explosives instead of a fetus. The chick didn’t act scared. She got mad instead—she started to swear at them. They pulled her out of the cab by her hair. As she fell outside of the car, her water broke. They’d have to take her to a hospital, I said. They didn’t take the Ithaca away from my head. You guys turn on your siren and we’ll get there faster. Keep going, one of them shoved me. They stuffed her back in the car. So I stepped on the gas and took off like a whip. She kept swearing. She was crying, vomiting, she shit herself. All kinds of stuff was coming out of her body. A huge mess. Don’t tell me it doesn’t smell. She looked like the girl in The Exorcist. I pulled up to the hospital, honking all the way. I hit the horn and flew to the emergency room.

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