Renaldo

by James McCreath

  the same newfound urges that had all but convinced him to sign the contract

  and fly to England.

  Each phrase that she uttered throughout their two-hour luncheon brought

  him closer to the undeniable realization that he just had to be close to her.

  Simone had unlocked the vault containing his latent male sensuality, and the

  young man now wanted to capitalize on the unimagined riches therein. He had

  to constantly refocus his thoughts out of the carnal and into the current as he

  fantasized about their future together in England.

  Reggie Russell had had his fill by the time the main course was all but

  consumed, both of the food and of the idle football gossip that had replaced

  the essence of the entire meeting. He wanted to force the issue by confronting

  the good-looking youngster that had not yet committed to playing in England.

  A simple answer would do. Are you coming or aren’t you? Yes or no? Make up

  your bloody mind! It was time to play the trump card.

  “Mallory, why don’t you tell Renaldo about the phone call that we received

  from England this morning. Perhaps that news might help convince the lad.”

  “My word, I’d almost forgotten with all his talk of football and the like.”

  Mallory focused her attention on the enamored gentleman to her left.

  “Renaldo, Señor Gordero has informed us that your mother is most

  concerned about you continuing your education, specifically in the medical

  field. Well, we have many highly placed contacts in London, and with a little

  legwork, we received a call this morning from the Registrar of the University

  of London Medical School. He is an ex-marine corpsman that served in Europe

  with my father in World War Two. Apparently, if your grades are as good as

  Señor Gordero has led us to believe, he will be able to secure an undergraduate

  exchange student placement for you in the school’s pre-med first-year program.

  We will need transcripts of your school records to send to England, of course, but

  if everything checks out, your mother should be pleased with this opportunity

  to combine football with your continuing education. How does that sound to

  you?”

  The charmer still held the cobra in her hypnotic trance. Renaldo had only

  heard about every third word that Mallory related, so consumed was he by her

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  presence. The embarrassing silence that followed her question finally prompted

  a response.

  “That would be wonderful, I suppose. I must admit that my mind has not

  been focused on my education of late, but if enrollment in a medical course can

  be used to convince my mother, so much the better.”

  So what is your bleeding answer, you little pantywaist? Reggie Russell pondered

  while doing a slow burn. Enough of this rubbish! We have kissed your mother’s

  derrière, so let’s have an answer. Come on, you little pansy, out with it. Make up your

  own mind for the first time in your life! The words were on the tip of Lord Russell’s

  tongue, but he managed to temper his question in deference to Mallory.

  “So, young man, what shall it be? Adventure and an education abroad,

  or continuing to live under your mother’s shadow here in Buenos Aires? We

  really must have your answer today, for Mallory and I fly back to London in

  the morning. Our season commences in less than a month, and if you decide

  to join us, we would require you to arrive in England in the very near future.

  Say a fortnight, at the absolute outside. I would like to retire to Señor Gordero’s

  office now to work out the details. Things like flights, type of lodging that

  you require initially, a down payment of salary, everything that will make the

  transition to your new life in England as comfortable as possible. But we must

  have your answer. Now!”

  “Perhaps Renaldo would like to take some time alone with me to discuss

  his future in private, Lord Russell.” Astor Gordero did not appreciate the

  bluntness of the Englishman. It was a trait that he found tactless.

  “No, that will not be necessary, Señor Gordero. I only have one question

  to ask of Lord Russell. Who actually runs the Canary Wharf Football Team,

  Sir? Who will Ramon and I be dealing with on a daily basis once we arrive in

  England?”

  “Well, Randal Horton is our team manager, or coach, as you sometimes

  call them in South America. A splendid chap, old Randal. Used to play for

  the Canaries a few years back. Very bright and in full compliance with the

  change in tactics that we plan to institute if you and Ramon join us. There is

  also Mallory here. As team executive vice-president, she has taken an active,

  hands-on role in the club’s operations. Far too active to suit many of the old

  chauvinist farts at the FA, I might add! And I will be around a fair bit as well.

  On the whole though, it’s Randal Horton for ‘on-field’ matters and Mallory for

  ‘off-field’ matters. Does that answer your question?”

  It certainly did! All Renaldo wanted to hear was that this vision of beauty

  seated beside him would be actively involved in his new career. That was

  enough for him to place his future into her hands.

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  “Yes, Sir, it does. I am prepared to sign your contract and to travel to

  England as soon as possible to play football for the Canary Wharf Football

  Club!”

  “Good show, young man!” a triumphant Lord Russell bubbled with glee.

  Mallory Russell spontaneously leaned over and hugged her new center halfback,

  giving him a peck on the cheek. Her act made the recipient blush slightly, but

  Renaldo had no time to feel self-conscious. He was jostled vigorously by an

  exuberant Ramon Vida once Stoltz had finished translating his new Canary

  teammate’s response. Astor Gordero offered his hardy congratulations, as did

  a more subdued Wolfgang Stoltz. The German then produced two sets of

  documents for signature from his portfolio.

  ‘The Great Facilitator’ presided over the official signing of the contracts

  as notary and witness, then called for a bottle of Dom Pérignon and the dessert

  menu to top off the closing of the deal.

  When all the food and beverage had been consumed and it was time to

  part company, Renaldo still had not devoured his fill of the enchanting blonde

  creature. He wanted to sit right where he was and have her continue relating

  the funny little stories of her native land. She had become much more outgoing

  and at ease after his acceptance of their offer to join them in England. Was

  she flirting with him? Did he sense an interest that had nothing to do with

  football?

  There was no way of knowing for sure, for Mallory reverted to her ‘all

  business’ demeanor as she and the new Canary Wharf center halfback shook

  hands discreetly when everyone at the table rose to part company.

  “Gentlemen, we will see you in London!” Sir Reggie proclaimed proudly.

  “My daughter and I will work out all the finer details with Señor Gordero, who

  will then inform you of your departure date. Mallory will be at Heathrow to

  meet your plane on arrival and speed your entry through customs. Good luck

  until then and re
st assured that neither of you will ever regret the decision that

  you have made here this afternoon!”

  “Oh, man, did you get a load of that blonde piece of fluff in there? I took

  one look at her and decided that England was for me! And that one works all

  day in a man’s business world. I wonder what the real English women look like,

  you know the ones that stay at home and pamper themselves so that they look

  really sexy in the clubs at night. I know I’m going to like London! I can feel it

  in my bone!”

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  Ramon Vida grasped the visible bulge in his trousers as he and Renaldo

  made their way back to the Hotel Presidente in the rear of Astor Gordero’s

  limousine. Renaldo tried not to show the offense he took at his friend’s slight

  of the lady.

  “She was a very beautiful woman, and I think that there is probably more

  upstairs than ‘fluff,’ Ramon.” Renaldo pointed to his head. “After all, for a lady

  to be a football executive in any country is something I have never heard of

  before. She would have to have a very sharp mind and thick skin to handle all

  the prejudice she must encounter.”

  “Not to mention great tits and long legs!” Ramon was doubled over in

  laughter at his irreverence. The champagne had topped him up, and he was

  ready to ‘party on’ back at the hotel.

  The traffic was still barely moving twenty-four hours after the opening

  kickoff of the championship game. Nobody wanted to stop partying, and new

  revellers were arriving in the capital by the minute from the hinterlands around

  Buenos Aires to act as reinforcements for those too inebriated or hungover to

  carry on.

  At last, the Mercedes pulled up to the rear entrance of the Hotel Presidente.

  The two National Team players thanked the chauffeur, then Ramon made his

  way for the staff entrance door.

  “Hey, man, come on. You shouldn’t stand out here too long. If someone

  recognizes you, you’ll be mobbed.”

  “That’s OK, Ramon. You go ahead. I’ll talk to you later. There is something

  that I have to do now, so don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright. Go on. I’m sure

  that Estes must be exhausted by now. Go and rescue him. I will call your room

  when I get back.”

  “As you wish, my friend, but be careful out here. The streets are crazy. I

  don’t want to lose my new English teammate, old chap!”

  Renaldo waved reassuringly as Ramon disappeared through the doorway.

  He then walked briskly to the corner and hailed the first cab that he spotted.

  “Avenida Arenales, near Calle Austria in Palermo, please, driver.”

  The trip to Casa San Marco took over forty minutes, but at least they

  were traveling away from the influx of celebrants that continued to flock to the

  downtown core. The cabbie paid little attention to his passenger, preferring

  instead to concentrate on the erratic traffic habits of his fellow drivers.

  In due course, Renaldo was standing outside the wrought iron gates of

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  the mansion in which he had grown up. Once past them, a ring of the doorbell

  brought the familiar shuffling sound from within, then Oli’s squinting face at

  the security grate.

  “Señor Renaldo! Mother of Jesus, is that really you? Olarti, come quickly.

  Señor Renaldo is home!”

  The door swung back on its giant hinges as the little native lady flew

  into the outstretched arms of the returning hero. Olarti was with them only a

  few moments later, the three doing an impromptu dance of joy in the entrance

  foyer.

  “It is so good to have you home again, Señor Renaldo. How is the foot?

  Oli and I watched every game that you played in! It didn’t seem to bother you,

  at least not from what we could tell on the television.” The man servant was

  beaming from ear to ear, as if he was the boy’s personal therapist.

  “It held up just fine, Olarti, thanks to you! Without your help, I probably

  never would have made it back to the team at all! I am deeply grateful, my old

  friend.”

  There was a flurry of questions directed at the new arrival, all of which

  Renaldo took the time to patiently answer.

  “Should I stock the refrigerator with all your favorites, Señor Renaldo?

  Are you home for good now?” Oli wanted to hear an affirmative response, and

  the disappointment was evident on her weathered face when she received only

  a vague reply.

  “I cannot say right at the moment, dear Oli. I have to talk to my mother

  first. Is she here right now?”

  “Of course, Señor. She would not dare to venture out in this insanity.

  The streets are filled with drunken hooligans and madmen. And the noise! I

  could not sleep a wink last night for all the honking horns going by the house.

  Here in Palermo! It’s unheard of. Your mother had a tough night as well. She

  is resting in her room.”

  “Thanks, Oli. Coming home is always special because I know that I have

  friends like the two of you here to greet me.”

  With that, he took leave of the elderly couple and ascended the circular

  staircase. He stood outside his mother’s bedroom door, took a deep breath, then

  knocked ever so gently in case she was asleep.

  “Come!” Her voice was strong and clear. Renaldo pushed down the brass

  lever and stepped inside.

  “My eyes are playing tricks on me. Is that really you? All dressed up in

  your finest suit, looking so handsome. Whoever has been looking after you has

  been doing an excellent job! Come here, my son!”

  Florencia De Seta arose from her bed and held her arms out to embrace

  her youngest. Renaldo was more than relieved at her warm reaction to his

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  unscheduled visit. He only hoped that she would remain so affectionate after he

  divulged the true purpose of his visit to Casa San Marco.

  “I have missed you, mother. You look even lovelier than I could have

  imagined. How have you been? Is everything alright with you?”

  She was still stunningly beautiful, her figure full and shapely, her

  complexion unblemished and ageless. There was not a hint of grey in her long

  black locks, which at this moment fell straight to well below her shoulders. Her

  maroon robe complimented the color scheme of the room.

  “I am fine, just fine. All this football nonsense has made me feel like a

  prisoner in my own home, however. But I must admit that I did break down and

  watch you play on television yesterday afternoon. That was quite a concession

  for an old lady like me. It would seem that you are some sort of national hero

  after your recent exploits. At least you weren’t crippled. The kind of shape that

  you arrived home in from Montevideo last month, why I thought you would

  never walk without crutches again. You should say one hundred Hail Marys to

  show your gratitude!”

  Renaldo smiled warmly as he led the lady back to her bed. Mother and

  son sat there together, hands entwined, while they caught up on each other’s

  lives. Florencia seemed much more at ease and contented than her son had seen

  her in a long time. When he related this mat
ter-of-factly, she was quick to put

  forth the reason.

  “My new outlook on life has been brought about by the continued attention

  of a certain gentleman, Renaldo. The same gentleman that we dined with on

  your birthday, Herr Wolfgang Stoltz.”

  The warm smile and the sparkle in his mother’s eyes left no doubt in his

  mind as to the truth of the lady’s statement.

  “You see, Renaldo, I was paid a visit by Astor Gordero shortly after you

  decided to let him handle your football career. A very knowledgeable and

  persuasive man, that Señor Gordero. In any event, our discussions got around

  to the family business concerns, and certain problems that I was having with

  your grandfather’s executors. Our initial meeting led to several others, all of

  them attended by Herr Stoltz. To make a long story short, he asked me out

  socially, and I accepted.”

  Florencia bowed her head, then raised it with a slight look of regret and

  uncertainty replacing the previous effervescence.

  “You know, my dear Renaldo, I have never looked at another man

  romantically since your blessed father passed away. But I found myself all

  alone, with you away playing football, and your brother traveling the land with

  that communist woman. I wanted a life with some personal fulfillment and

  happiness in it for a change, in a way that only a man can give to a lonely

  woman. One day perhaps you will understand my longing.”

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  Her eyes seemed to be pleading with her youngest son for acceptance and

  empathy as he listened intently to her every word.

  “I had done all that I could do to raise you boys to the best of my ability,

  but regardless of my feelings, you both went off and made your own decisions

  about the paths you chose to follow. Letting you go was difficult for me,

  Renaldo. I was very bitter for a time, but I know now that you had to act as

  your heart dictated. Herr Stoltz made me realize that you and your brother are

  not children anymore. That you have to spread your wings and find your true

  identities. Neither of you can continue to live under the shadow of my skirts a

  minute longer without hating me forever, nor would I wish such a thing to tear

  us apart. No, you must lead your own life, dear son. That is why you have come

  here today, to tell me that you have decided to go to England and continue on