El Mono, page 10
Karin put out a hand and touched his; the first personal contact between the two. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’ She paused and watched to see his reaction. ‘I don’t want to pry and don’t tell me if you don’t want to … but what happened?’
‘It’s OK. It happened a long time ago. The official story is that they drove off the road on a particularly dangerous stretch and fell to their deaths. I didn’t learn until I was much older that they hit a landmine and were blown up. No party ever admitted responsibility; no one was ever charged with their deaths. That is just the way that things happen here. People literally get away with murder …’
‘Oh Daniel … How awful for you. Were you very angry?’
‘Yes. There are times when I still am. First I was angry with the people who became my adopted parents. Why didn’t they tell me what really happened right from the beginning? I found out later from others who accidently blurted out the truth. I went back and confronted my foster parents and shouted at them for lying to me. I left where I was living then and there and came to live in the mountains, with the creatures that I loved and trusted and where there was no one who would ever lie to me ever again. It took me several years before I could go back and apologise for my behaviour. I know they were only trying to protect me when I was so young, so I told them I understood and asked for their forgiveness. Things are better now between me and the villagers … but I continued to live and roam around these mountains. After all, that was why I came here in the first place.
‘And I found out that I could offer the pueblos some help. You’ve seen I’m good with all things up here – I was finding that out for myself all the time, learning how the animals and birds lived, how to care for the plants and crops, and so I could help the local farmers with their livestock, even increase their yields. And I found myself in doing that.’
Daniel looked back at Karin, the faraway look in his eyes gone now, a twinkling smile returning to them. ‘That’s enough about me. You say you’ve told me who you are but that’s not completely true. Like you, I know nothing of your world so come on – let me into it …’
So Karin launched into her own history, from her earliest, faintest memories of Munich and her father; to her growing up with her mother in Berkshire, near London; her delight at getting into Durham, postponing university to go to Madrid; then two years of study until she arrived in Colombia. She tried to paint a picture of what England was like and what it was like at university. She asked him about his own education.
‘I dropped out of school in Bogotá when I was twelve,’ replied Daniel. ‘I sort of studied in local schools here for a bit but I was hopeless and couldn’t settle. My life had turned upside down and, anyway, I was always a very poor student.’ He looked almost shy. ‘I … I’ve always felt a little inferior to people like yourself who’ve studied and succeeded and gone on to greater things. I was a failure. I couldn’t get away from school fast enough.’
What a sensitive, beautiful man! Karin reached out and held on to his hand this time.
‘Oh, Daniel, you never cease to amaze me! You who are so confident and self-possessed and so much the master of the world you live in. You don’t know how much people like me wish we could be like you. There are times when I don’t know who I am and where I really belong. I rush around here and there, one end of the globe to the other, and continually wonder at the value of my life. You, on the other hand, understand the world perfectly. It is me who is inferior … not you!’
Daniel smiled sheepishly. He left his hand in hers for a long, lovely moment before drawing it away. ‘You’re too kind. Are all English girls like you? You’re certainly not like the Colombian city girls I’ve met and not at all like the indígenas of the pueblos.’
Karin laughed. ‘I don’t know who you’ve met, but I’m not so very different from my friend Claudia the caleña, with whom, incidentally, you were not very friendly when we were all together the other day.’
‘Not so. I’m just very wary of wealthy urban people who seem to value possessions more than people … and certainly more than the environment which they are busy tearing apart. You say you like it up here. I sometimes wonder how long it will stay this way when I see what some people are doing to it.’
‘Such as?’
‘Burning it, overgrazing it; draining it, digging it up and discarding all their poisonous chemicals upon it. I’ve travelled miles over the ridges and mountain tops over the years and seen men driving big machines, tearing up the vegetation, opening huge holes in the ground to extract what’s underneath. Then there are the huge estates which push goats and cattle up on to the páramo where the plant life isn’t good for them and they are not good for it. Both suffer, but it is all to make money in the short term, never mind what the long-term consequences are … Don’t get me started … I’ll go on and on and start getting angry again!’
‘Daniel – if you feel this way, what can you do about it? You can’t just stay here getting all bitter and hating the world and poisoning yourself!’
‘You’re right. I should do more. I do help the local indígenas make a living out of their farming – caring for livestock; promoting ways of harnessing the soil, not destroying it. And I have worked at times in the National Park of Puracé, acting as a sort of independent guide for tourists (ugh!) and trying to spread the word about respecting the environment up here.’ Daniel stopped. ‘My problem is I hate the people who have no respect for others, the plants, the animals and birds here; the sort, I guess, who killed my parents. People who want possessions – or other people’s possessions. You now make me realise that getting angry about it is not good enough. I guess I have to confront them, not just stay away up here from them … but I do hate the big city and all it represents!’
Daniel jumped up, stomped around and restlessly shook his head as if trying to rid himself of these thoughts, the conflict inside him unable to be contained. Karin looked at him in wonder. What passion and how quick he was to examine his own life and own up to his own failings! She could only watch speechless.
As quickly as he lost control, Daniel regained it again. He turned and helped Karin to her feet. His face was red and betrayed self-consciousness.
‘I’m sorry about that. Please forgive me for being so foolish. But thank you, thank you for seeing some things clearer than I could.’ He laughed scornfully at himself. ‘You’re right. I ought to do something other than just moan and complain. I’ve now got to go away and do a lot of thinking for myself. Do you mind if we say goodbye now? I’ll go with you and Bella back to the Fernández estate but I’ll have to leave you there. Come back tomorrow or perhaps the day after if you want to.’ His face softened towards her. ‘Karin, thank you again … but you have really set me thinking.’
He looked at her again, half admiring, half shame-faced. ‘Come on, let’s go!’ he said at last. ‘Your rich friend will be wondering what’s happened to you.’
On parting, Karin had agreed with Daniel to meet up again on Saturday, in two days’ time. She owed that to Claudia, her host, whom she could not desert two days in a row – it would have been far too rude and inconsiderate. Besides, after such an intense exchange between the two of them in so little time, she needed space and at least another day to come to terms with it all herself. Yes – Saturday, same time, same place as before and let’s try to play it a little cooler next time!
All day Friday, Karin could not stop talking about him. Lunch at the farmhouse was served by Alfonso’s wife, the cook and housemaid, but Karin could barely concentrate on what she was eating. She told her friend where they had gone, how he had talked about the land, the wildlife, and particularly how he had shared his lunch with her and told her all about himself. Her face shone; her words came tumbling out in a non-stop flow. Claudia teased her wickedly.
‘OK, so you say you don’t fancy him. Then why are you talking about him all the time? Even when you were silent this morning, you were mooning around with your head someplace else every minute I tried to talk to you!’
‘I don’t think about him all the time. Lay off! All morning I’ve been thinking of how different it is here from Bogotá; what a great place you have; the mountains above; riding yesterday and … and …’ Karin burst out laughing. ‘… And what a lovely man he is!’
Claudia joined in laughing, too. ‘Well, he has certainly made an impact on you! The way you describe him, I’ve got to go see him again myself – if nothing else to try and hold you back from making a fool of yourself!’
‘It’s not just the way he seems to completely dominate the world up there; it’s not even the magical hold he seems to have over animals, birds and so on, or the love and respect the people hereabouts have for him. It’s none of that. You should have seen him yesterday talking about the life he has been through. He talks about really important issues, his feelings. He really isn’t like all the other superficial, selfish men I’ve ever met. It’s just that he’s so honest, so open, so sensitive and so … so … so wonderful!’
‘You are a hopeless case! And be careful, Karin. Be careful about your own feelings. You are reverting back to being a schoolgirl again – having a crush on the first dishy man you come across. And you know, we both know, that that is the quickest route to disappointment. Dishy men have feet of clay and hearts of stone. Take care!’
Karin sighed. ‘You’re right. I know you’re right. I will be careful. Goodness knows I am old enough, seen enough and been hurt enough to know better. But let me have at least one day of dreaming before I confront reality! Let us both go up tomorrow, together, and you can keep the reins on me and tell me also afterwards what you think. Remember when we first met? How you wanted my impressions of Martín “the bastard” García? Well, it’s the same again – forget all that I’ve told you of Daniel, El Mono. After we both have a day out with him tomorrow, make your own mind up and tell me your own opinion later in the evening. Agreed?’
Claudia laughed again. The two girls hugged. ‘It’s a deal. Agreed. Now for goodness’ sake, stop talking about him and let’s go out. We’ll go shopping in Popayán and have a meal there together. The town is famous for its good eating. Come on!’
Popayán on a Friday afternoon was full of people, of shoppers, tourists and sightseers – as a traditional old market centre and regional capital, the town was a local hub of business and trade of all sorts. The two friends had a thoroughly enjoyable time, Claudia showing Karin around some of the beautiful white colonial buildings, the newer, Western chain stores and fashion shops, and the local cafés, restaurants and bars. By the time the sun had begun to set their feet were aching and a café in the central plaza had attracted their custom. As always, Karin was delighted with the experience and thanked her host profusely for the idea of coming down to town and away from the farm for the day.
‘Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ said Claudia. ‘I did too. With you, everything is such fun – and it’s new for me in a way also, seeing things through your eyes. So thank you, too. That gives me an idea: tomorrow we will have a day out with a certain person that we are not going to talk about now. We will have most of the day after, Sunday, free – before flying back to Bogotá. How about if we come back here Sunday morning? The market in this plaza on that day is something special.’
‘I’d love to. Are you sure we would have enough time?’
‘Yes, if we pack up, take all our gear with us in the car, and have our driver take us down here to wait for us. Then we can spend lunchtime browsing around the stalls and then go straight off to the airport. Easy!’
Karin smiled and nodded her agreement. The lifestyle here for families with estates, horses, cars and employees to look after them was so easy. She had a sudden pang of conscience: she could imagine Daniel would not be quite so comfortable with all of it. But she really had to shake her head free of him for today.
They finished and paid up at the café. They were just about to leave when Claudia caught sight of a newspaper discarded on the next table. Neither of them had kept up with any news during the week they were at the farm – that was one of the reasons for being there – but a headline in this paper caught Claudia’s eye: ‘Three men from Triple F killed and one missing, feared dead, in Cauca, not far from Popayán. FARC held responsible.’
Claudia began reading with interest – this was a tragedy that had apparently occurred not far from her own farm. Then she read the names of the victims involved and her blood ran cold. She burst into tears.
‘Claudia! Whatever is it?’ her friend was immediately concerned.
‘Look! Read it!’ Claudia couldn’t speak. ‘It’s Martín!’
Karin hurriedly scanned the page offered. Three men from Triple F had been killed in their jeep by an explosion on a remote mountain road near Popayán, on their way to a new mining development. The names of the dead were given. Another vehicle, gone to investigate, had been stopped, and a certain Martín García, Triple F executive from Bogotá, had been kidnapped. A statement from the chief of Triple F in Colombia, a Mr Morten Fields, released today, Friday, had only now revealed all the details. The corporation had been keeping things quiet, it appeared, in the hope that negotiations to secure the release of their executive would be successful. The statement went on to say that ten thousand dollars had been paid last week to the FARC, who had admitted responsibility, and a second payment was due to be paid this week but that representatives of the terrorist organisation had broken off all communication and had apparently disappeared. Mr Morten Fields said he feared the worst, that Martín García had been a personal friend and that the family involved – owners of one of Colombia’s more important and successful businesses – were frantically worried, as indeed he was. The statement finished by saying that the head of Human Resources for Triple F had resigned, accepting responsibility for placing Mr García – a recent recruit and trainee – in an area where there was a known security risk.
Karin put the paper down. She looked at the tear-streaked face of her friend. What could she say?
‘I loved him, Karin! I once worshipped the ground he walked upon. I know he is a bastard, But … but I also know that I still love him! And he’s gone!’ Claudia collapsed into tears once more.
‘Don’t say that, Claudia. You don’t know. There’s still a chance. The paper says he has been kidnapped, that’s all.’
‘You don’t know the FARC. People disappear all the time thanks to them. Families end up paying for months, years, keeping their hopes alive – only finally to receive the dead bodies of their loved ones. In this case, the FARC have chosen not to receive any money – how nice of them. That means he must … he must be … already dead. There is no chance, no hope. It’s all hopeless.’ She wailed aloud.
Several café customers looked over in their direction. Karin moved her chair across to her friend and wrapped her arms around her. She wanted to let her know that she understood, that she was there for her, and that Claudia simply needed to release all her emotions.
‘Go on, Claudia – cry it all out. Let go …’
Minutes passed. At last, Claudia looked up into the worried face of her friend. She stopped weeping. Karin handed over a tissue.
‘Thank you, Karin,’ Claudia sniffed. ‘I couldn’t help it. It was such a shock … Now what do I do? I still can’t believe it … It’s like a bad dream … but I’ve got to believe it …’ She was rambling.
Karin ordered another two coffees. Her friend was in no state to go anywhere just yet. The two of them sat together, silent for a moment, Karin holding her friend’s hand in her lap, comforting her. An idea appeared to Karin.
‘We still don’t know enough about what has happened,’ she said guardedly. ‘But we do know that it was on a mountain road somewhere near here. And, Claudia, we know someone who knows these mountains better than anyone else around. Better even than the FARC, I’ll bet. Claudia – we are going to see him tomorrow. Let’s ask him if he can help? If he can find out anything; if Martín is alive or not. Let’s ask him … What do you say?’
Claudia looked at her. There was a glimmer of hope left. ‘Thank you, thank you, Karin. You are such a friend! Yes – you are so right, that is a good idea. I don’t know if it will help at all … It may already be too late … but we have to try. I don’t know whether or not El Mono can find out anything, anything at all, and, if he can whether or not it will help. But as long as there might be just a chance that Martín is alive I’ll try anything.’
Saturday morning the girls prepared their horses in a sombre mood – Claudia her own familiar mount, Karin this time with Bella. Alfonso’s wife, María, had been asked to prepare packed lunches for them both, plus a bit extra as a present for Daniel, whose own lunch Karin had gratefully shared when they were together last. Karin also folded up a copy of the newspaper article to show Daniel – it gave them the only details they knew of what had happened.
Claudia was shivering with apprehension. She knew they were clutching at straws and she did not even know whether or not El Mono would help her. And if he agreed, whether he could offer any hope.
‘Karin … I’m so frightened,’ she confessed.
‘I know. I feel a bit the same. But it is all we can do.’
‘I’m frightened that El Mono won’t help – why should he? You said yourself he hates city folk, big business, all that sort of thing. And, if he does help, what if he finds out what I fear the most … that the FARC have done their worst? Here I am, struggling to keep hope alive only to have it dashed once more.’
‘Claudia … you have to be strong. Of course, you’re frightened. But we have to go through with this. To know anything, even the worst that we fear, is better than not knowing, going on living in ignorance. And I am sure of one thing – that Daniel will help. You’ll see. He really is the good man I think he is.’
