Louis stared out the window at the private golf course, The Grey Mountains, that only the wealthy were allowed to use. Louis never cared about golf but used the game to negotiate deals. As he stood puffing his cigar, the rain pummeled the fairways.
Juan and Ricardo stood nearby, silent as usual.
"I love the hell out of that boy, I really do," Louis said. "But do you think Solono has forgiven me for what I did to his father?"
Juan and Ricardo glanced at each other.
"With your permission, Mr. President, I would like to be brutally honest." Ricardo blurted. "Mr. President, and please forgive my bluntness, but my father was a selfish, inconsiderate asshole. The only thing he cared about was his relationship with his flask. He said he loved my mother and me, but his actions never showed it. The reason I'm before you this very minute is because I vowed never to be the type of man he was. I joined the military to learn what it was like to be a respectable man, a man that could protect and provide. A man with honor! I say all that to say this. He was still my father and I would wish nothing but the most brutal death upon anyone who dictated his death such as Solono's father. You wanted the truth Mr. President? I think he thinks about it more than any of us may realize. I can sense it. I know I would. I was there when it took place, Mr. President, and I remember it like it was yesterday. He's come a long way. Solono loves you and has forgiven you but I don't think he has forgotten."
Louis nodded and looked at Juan.
Juan chimed in. "I believe he loves you and has forgiven you. He sees daily how much you cherish your family and that includes him. He sees how you put them before anything. My opinion is Solono no longer thinks about that part of his life. He loves this family and would do anything for you."
Louis turned back to the window, recalling the day he received the call informing him that Jose "Gasper" Rodriguez had been spotted in Paraguay.
"Mr. President, please forgive my interruption but I have some information you might want to hear," Ricardo, then in his early 20's, said to Louis as he sat on the balcony reading The History of the Peloponnesian War.
"What is it?"
"We've located Gasper. He lives in Areguá, in the Central Department with his boy. Gasper had a wife and a daughter but they were killed in a car accident."
Louis put his book down on the glass table next to his Russian vodka and cigar. He pondered for a second.
Louis thought to himself, "This information can't be correct. There is no way this man had been living on Paraguayan soil all this time. This had to be a mistake."
"Where did you get your intel?"
"From a former soldier who lives nearby. He spotted him recently at a local carne market, recognized his face from an ambush by the Brazilian's 3rd Military Command during the War of The Triple Alliance and followed him to his home. He kept a tail on him for a few days to see if he could gather further intel. He confirmed his identity. A few days later, my source entered his home and found documents that revealed his true identity. It is him Mr. President. Jose "Gasper" Rodriguez is living in Paraguay."
Louis decided to round up fifteen of his soldiers and confront the man responsible for single handedly masterminding one of the most fatal blows to the Paraguayan army.
As Louis contemplated his next move, there was four rapid knocks, a short pause, and four more rapid knocks outside the door. Each security guard had his own personal knock assigned personally by Louis. His life sometimes depended on paranoia.
"Come in!" Louis blurted through the door.
"Mr. President, you have a visitor. A Mr. Alfonzo Gomez is here to speak with you." Louis rose from his desk and ordered Ricardo and Juan to leave his office but not to go far.
After they left, Louis poured himself a glass of scotch and instructed his guard to show Mr. Gomez in.
"Mr. Gomez," Louis said with a huge grin when he arrived. "Nice to see you!" Louis hugged and kissed him on both cheeks. "How is the family? You look good. Do you age at all? Whatever your secret is, I want to know because my job ages me like a sunburned prune."
"Thank you for allowing me to speak with you under short notice," Alfonzo said. "It is greatly appreciated. My family is well. Thank you for your concern. I pray all is well with the first family."
"Maria is growing up so fast." Louis gestured for Mr. Gomez to have a seat on the rust colored leather sofa that faced the huge, bay window. Numerous discussions with politicians and generals had taken place on that very sofa. "Julia is as beautiful as ever and Solono has a mind of a scholar. Anything less than saying I'm blessed would be an understatement." Louis plopped down opposite Mr. Gomez.
"Now that we have gotten all the pleasantries out the way, let's get to the reason for your visit."
Leaning forward, Alfonzo said. "Mr. President, with all due respect, I am concerned about the direction of our country."
Louis frowned.
"Our people aren't happy. What have we done in the last five years to make us competitive with the rest of the world? Our economy is the one of the poorest on the planet. Mr. President even our neighboring countries, which are also financially struggling, chuckle at us. But their leader shows them hope. He gives them assurance that the best is yet to come. His people have faith in the future. Not in Paraguay. The average poor person reads at a first-grade level."
Louis reached into his pocket and pulled out a Cuban cigar. After lighting it, he said, "Please, continue."
"Mr. President, I know your position is very demanding, but the people of Paraguay are suffering. There has to be a connection with the people to show that you care. You are taking their land, land some people have had in their family for generations and portioned it out to the rich disguised as historical landmarks and resource buildings. Giving out food every-so-often, yet generous, is not enough. It makes my stomach blain every time I enter your home and see how lavishly you and your family are living. Once I exit your doors it's like I'm walking into a completely different world, a world of poverty, starvation, and hopelessness. I urge you to make drastic changes immediately, not only for your sake but for the sake of everyone you love. People are talking, and they are talking change."
After taking a long drag from his cigar, Louis asked. "So, this change that you are referring to. Is this a request for change in leadership? And if this is so, do you think you are the man for the job?"
"Mr. President."
"Silence. I'm assuming that since you were appointed the spokesmen that you and whoever "these" people are believe you are the savoir of Paraguay? Am I assuming correct?"
"Mr. President, I am coming on behalf of –."
"I said silence," Louis interrupted. "How dare you come into my home and disrespect me? I've governed this country for over two decades. To have a poco bebé try to educate me on what my people need is laughable. Though I applaud your courage, I question your intelligence. Even on your best day you could not survive five minutes behind my desk. You'd crap your pants."
Alfonzo's eyes widened as Louis stood and walked to the huge bay window. He took a long drag from his cigar and stared as a Lancair Columbia airplane flew low enough that he could read the wording on the side: Pájaro De Metal.
"In my younger days, your exit would have been through this window." He pointed at the bay window with his half-smoked cigar. "Go back to your people, the ones you say aren't happy, and compile a list of recommendations. Come back and present them to me and we'll see what we can arrange."
Alfonzo, not knowing whether to be happy or nervous, stood and yanked at the bottom of his suit jacket. "Thank you, Mr. President."
"Good day Mr. Gomez."
As Alfonzo exited Louis' office, he saw Juan and Ricardo and approached them.
"How can we help you?" Ricardo said with an austere tone. Because of the past attempts on Louis' life, neither Ricardo nor Juan particularly cared for Alfonzo.
"Ricardo, Juan! Hope all is well, and I pray that you are being treated fairly."
"All is well here. We appreciate your concern." Juan reassured him. Ricardo nodded.
"It seems to be good here. Louis takes good care of his assets, I see," Alfonzo mumbled while gazing at a painting on the wall of a chessboard missing the pieces. Underneath the painting were the words "Chaturanga: Āpa kauna haiṁ? - Author unknown".
"I've never paid attention to it. It's just a picture." Juan responded.
"Just a picture?" Alfonzo said disbelief. "The art in your home is a reflection of who you are, your desires, your passions. Are you familiar with chess?"
"I've seen Louis playing with Solono, but I don't understand, the rules, said Juan. Ricardo just shook his head."
Two opponents sit on opposite sides of a board as you see in the picture here. Each player has sixteen pieces: one king, one queen, two rooks, two bishops, two knights, and eight pawns. These pieces do whatever is necessary to protect the king. Some pieces are more important than others depending on how they can move. Then you have the pawns, the most expendable pieces on the board. There are more pawns than any other piece because they can be replaced at any time. They move as they're commanded and have no control."
Alfonzo stared at both men, who listened closely.
"Every time you pass this picture, ask yourself: Which piece are you?"
Alfonzo turned and left Juan and Ricardo, who stood staring at the painting.
Flinging her feet in the air, Maria laid comfortably across her bed with the book Wuthering Heights. Maria loved to read, mostly romantic novels but since she had been sexually assaulted, she didn't want to read anything suggestive. She wanted no memory of her first sexual encounter. Her father had erected a bookshelf in her closet, which was the size of another bedroom. Louis loved to boast about Maria's goal of reading one hundred books in a year. Everyone who knew her knew that was an attainable goal.
White, linen curtains danced as a hot breeze gusted through the open window. An untouched half-empty glass of water sat on the floor by the bed. Maria was so fixated on her book that she forgot it was sitting there perspiring. The head maid outside her room bellowed at her subordinates, "Who put this here? This does not belong here. How many times do I have to tell you? Move it now. Chop chop!" Noise did not distract her. It was almost as the outside noises helped her focus more than the silence did. Silence took her places she'd rather not visit.
After what seemed like hours of being engrossed in her novel, the warm breeze transformed into a cool airstream. The sun disappeared, and the crickets sang to each other. She closed the book and rested her head on one of the many colorful pillows that decorated her bed. She stared at the ceiling and thought about how intrigued she was with the plot of the novel. Shortly after, her eyes were closed, and she was in a deep sleep.
When she awoke, she heard a group of men laughing in the other room. It was still dark outside, and she knew nothing of any invited guest.
Rubbing her eyes, she reached for the glass of water that sat next to her bed and was dumbfounded to find red wine inside the glass.
"Solono and his darn games. He's such a jokester," she thought. A slight grin crossed her face.
The laughter outside her room grew louder. She could not make out what they were saying but could tell it was multiple men engaged in the conversation. She felt around with her feet for her slippers that usually rest beside her bed, but they were not there. She glanced around the room to see if she could locate them but was unable to examine her room because of the darkness. After multiple tugs on the string on the lamp that sat on the nightstand next to her bed, she realized the bulb had been removed. "I'm going to kill him!" she thought.
Underneath the crack at the bottom of the door was a very dim light. She slowly opened the door and peeked her head out to see where the commotion was coming from, glancing right then left. Down the dark hallway was a light from a room. She walked slowly toward the mummer.
"You sure you want to go in there?" a voice said from behind her.
Maria turned around and saw Julia standing so close that Maria could feel the incalescence of Julia's breath.
"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go!" Julia said. Julia was wearing a red dress and cherry red lipstick with red heels. Noticing how Julia was dressed while wearing heels, Maria was positive she would have heard her approaching.
"Where did you come from?" Maria said. Julia didn't answer.
"You should have seen the look on her face when she woke up. It was priceless!" one of the male voices blurted out.
Laughter burst at the end of the hallway, followed by a burst of laughter. Maria turned back to Julia, who was no longer there. She shifted her attention back towards the end of the hallway and walked towards the voices, her feet cold and clammy from the frigid floor. She could really use her slippers. The laughter continued. The voices were starting to sound familiar. As she approached the door, she pressed her ear against it to listen.
"She got up and ran like her concha was on fire. It was the funniest thing that you've ever seen in your life," one of the voices said.
Slowly opening the door, she found, sitting at a table her father, Solono, and man with his back towards her. Ricardo and Juan stood nearby. Surprised by her entry, the laughter immediately stopped and all, with the exception of the unknown man, turned towards her.
Maria approached the table where they sat. Solono held a large kitchen knife covered in blood that dripped on the floor over the bottom of her feet. Slowly the man whose back was towards her turned around; the front of his shirt was drenched in blood, his neck sliced from one ear to the other. She fell to the floor and attempted to scamper but was unable to because of the slickness of the bloodstained floor. Maria couldn't believe her eyes - it was Michael.
"I heard rumors you were dead!"
"I'm alive, beautiful," Michael said. "I was just telling your father and Solono about the marvelous night we had together. Why didn't you tell your father about it?"
"I told Solono."
"I know you did. That explains my unfortunate injury. He had the nerves to cut my throat." Michael said.
"Aren't you going to do something Father?" Maria cried to Louis.
Louis stared at her coldly.
With the exception of Maria, everyone in the room burst into laughter.
"The bolas on Solono," Michael said. "Maria, have you ever thought about the love Solono has for you? The significance of taking another man's life? It wasn't worth it, the chona wasn't that good."
Julia entered the room with a tray and six glasses atop it. "I told you not to come." She said to Maria.
Somehow Maria managed to rise to her feet and run to her room. The laughter grew distant as the light at the end of the hallway dimmed. With tears running down her face she slipped and slid her way to her bedroom door. After fumbling with the doorknob, the door opened. Maria's head jolted up from the pillow. Her hair was soaked, and she was out of breath. "Jesus Crist," she thought to herself. "That was a dream." She grabbed the glass of water and guzzled it. She climbed out of bed, got dressed and went to find Solono.