La
siguiente escala de Christian es el AMW en Santa Cruz. Encuentra la puerta
abierta, así que baja de la camioneta e ingresa. Adentro está Owen entrenando a
dos chicos y una chica. El instructor le sonríe y se le acerca a solo
centímetros, como para tener una conversación más íntima.
“Welcome, dude – what can I do for ya?”
“No, sir”, rebate Christian. “What can I do for you, instead? And I
can do a lot of things for you, Owen.”
El
instructor invita al abogado a sentarse en el escritorio de la entrada.
“Get me on the spot, please, cuz I don’t get ya.”
“You know those accusations are so
embarrassing for you, embarrassing for this business, embarrassing for your new
friends. The next’s gonna happen is Migrations Police will come here to detain
you. If that happens, you’ll be expulsed to South Africa, and everything you’re
building here to become shit.”
“So, what’s your deal, Christian?”
“I’m a lawyer, Owen. I can block that
detention. I can make your time here to be better. I can give you three pretty
things you need: advice, defense, and protection. So, quit this. Come with me.
I have a house, I have connections, I have all you need to avoid you go to the
jail.”
“In exchange of what? My long, bold cock
into your warm ass?”
Christian
se toma unos segundos para responder a eso.
“I don’t deny I like you, and I loved the
way you fucked me that night. You know? I got at a strange jungle. I didn’t
feel your strong and huge cock into my ass. I didn’t feel pain but pleasure,
pleasure and peace – love, Owen! We made
love!”
Owen no
ha perdido su sonrisa desde que la conversación en voz baja comenzó.
“Yes, we made it. I made it ynto ya,
actually, because I thought it could work to change your mind, but I’m giving you
up.”
Christian sonríe extrañado:
What… do you mean?”
“You know who’s behind you, Christian
Esteves. You know who killed Monolo
Rodríguez. And now, you know who I am, an anticorp
activist. I tried to change you with the power of love, but you are too dirty
and polluted to understand you have to give up after all those years somebody
gave you a hand to survive. What did you do? Betraying him. And you’re gonna
betray her. And you’re gonna betray me.”
La
expresión de Owen cambia. Christian puede ver la rabia en sus ojos, como si aquella
selva se encendiera en llamas. Siente, además, que está a punto de perder el
sentido. Un portazo lo interrumpe todo.
“¿Buenos
días, doctor Christian”, saluda Flor tragando saliva y con su celular en la
mano.
El
abogado reacciona como si hubiese regresado de un sueño que lo sorprende y lo
asusta. Al frente, Owen sigue con su rostro serio. Christian se pone de pie y
retrocede un poco.
“That’s my fucking last offer, Mgombo. Then,
nobody’s gonna save you.”
El
instructor no reacciona y permanece sentado, mientras sus tres alumnos miran la
escena asustados. Frustrado, Christian da media vuelta y sale del gimnasio.
Todavía turulato, se sienta en la camioneta, bebe un poco de agua. Siente que
recupera el control de sus sentidos.
“I’m sorry, Owen. Tú y todos tus amigos
se irán a la misma mierda”, le dice al retrovisor.
Christian
arranca la camioneta y se va pueblo adentro.
En el
gimnasio, Owen se tranquiliza progresivamente.
“Excuse
me”, se disculpa ante Flor.
“I don’t mind, Owen. There’s something most
important than this.”
Flor le
extiende su celular.
“César found something, didn’t he?”, se
anticipa el instructor. “Ya already have a Rosetta’s Stone, so ya need a
Champollion.”
“How do you know that?,” se sorprende Flor.
“I’m not that Champollion, pretty lady, but
that one was here last night. Call him right now before
they attack.”
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