Читать книгу The Complete Men School - Herlander Elias - Страница 10

October 20, 2000

Rafael was feeling hungry and went to shave himself while listening to Tito & Tarantula’s tunes. He was dressed in black and denim. He heads for the closest theatre café. There he could read the notes on the Complete ones that were provided by Roberta. He asked for a latte and a toast. In a quiet and fancy environment, he could quietly stare at the passers-by rushing through the street while he was having breakfast and listening to Haendel. This was a very well crowded place, and besides the quiet mood in the cafe the food was great, much as the service.

He opened the envelope with one hand, while he put on his lips a Davidoff with the other hand. He lit it up with a zippo lighter he carried in his coat’s pockets. He closed his eyes to protect them from the smoke of the cigarette and started reading what was written on the notes with blue permanent ink in many shades of color. It all pointed out to a sort of a transcription of a talk between a professor and several apprentices during a walk. This might have happened over the 80s in some city garden. In the notebook, the dialogues were of this kind:

— We made The Schools like these because closed spaces compress us. They force the internal elements to discharge their pressure on themselves and that overshadows the Complete ones to see the global performance. This is why our Schools function outdoors, on the streets. The passers-by do not know what is going on, though sometimes they suspect us. “These seem to be the words from a Master of some sorts”— thought Rafael to himself, picturing the situations that possibly matched the transcriptions. “The apprentices laugh.”— wrote whoever recorded the dialogues.

— But going back to what brings us all here… what we expect from a Complete Man is that he won’t miss anything: he shall be full, gapless, total, perfect, already accomplished, concluded, finished in a good way, satisfied, fulfilled, grandiose and bigger than anything! — declared again the Master.

— But wishing us to be so special is not it too ambitious? — one of the apprentices questioned.

— Yes, it is. I have the healthy arrogance of admitting it. Nevertheless, if The Schools Operations of the Complete Men were not so demanding and results so enviable, what were we all doing here? We all could be at the theatre, the movies or anywhere else contemplating a performance. — the Master added, pointing the doubts with harsh critique. Impressed by the Master’s speech, the apprentices weaved commentaries among themselves, throwing whispers into the air. Short after that, they began to exercise in diplomacy against each other, as if this would be a therapy session in shifts. Their conversations would fool anyone, due to the characteristics of them as people, their physical looks and posture. Only a few did not feel fascinated. Their discourse, interpersonal communication skills, good will, good sense, sense of diplomacy and of aesthetics would flow into a noble, wise street justice worthy of the signature of The Schools.

Rafael noticed he was just smoking the cigarette’s filter - there were ashes all over the notes. Every type of description he had access struck him. “This is to say that the apprentices would go to the street only in groups, with elegant poses, as if they were aestheticized and cop-like”— said Rafael to himself, like if he was telling secrets to himself. He felt as thrilled has surprised. He felt engaged by a romantic and mysterious perfume. That was the track of the research path. He lit up again another cigarette and focused on the dirty yellow notes. In these, next to the dialogues’ transcriptions, there were blueprints, diagrams, numbered tables drawn on permanent ink, as well names engaged in this subculture, too:

“Still on street. Many gatherings were spied but nobody knew in fact what the drive of the rallies was and what kind of conversations occurred there. Whoever researched the Complete Ones would never stay in a comfort zone from afar to speak about anyone else. Gradually, curious and interested people would knock on The Schools’ doors. Once inside, the new elements would come up with something superficial to justify their research time and thus they would join the Complete Ones at once, because when they opted to go inside, they could not say ‘no’ no more; the comradery, the respect, the good aura and the noble actions were essential. None of Complete Men would engage in rivalries within each School. The latter was a single body, a collective-mind body, something relentless. Almost everything at The School was inviting. The atmosphere, the presence, the lifestyle of the Complete ones and the wise looks exchanged and shared among them, as for example the special greetings, were intriguing for the rookies. By attending to The Schools, the rookies dreamt of achieving the position of some Complete Men, because of their words, their actions and stories.”

Rafael was speechless. He stared at the street, from within the theatre café. He was calm and insightful. His curiosity temporarily satisfied by the transcriptions and the sun warming his legs. The more he knew, the more he aspired to know. The subculture seemed fascinating to him. In that precise moment, he felt that his interest was not just all about doing research for the report he would sell along with Roberta to a media group. It was also, and fore-mostly, what he could learn about these Complete Men subculture.

After paying the bill, Rafael noticed that a sheet of paper which was in-between the many sheets of the notebook had fallen down on the table, and in that specific sheet of paper there were some more things written that obviously caught his attention. The puzzle was setting up:

“The Schools have no windows, doors, walls, ceilings, flights of stairs, rooftops; that means they do not function in any real facility. But, there is always someone presenting ideas for the remaining who listen carefully. There is a set for the meetings, though that is not what matters. In fact, it is a “School”. A School where they all learn with their colleagues and teach what is relevant for the conduct promoted in the institution. One cannot find odd the fact of how Schools become colleges, very organized ones, where upstanding men, each with a style of its own has a specific signature in terms of dress code and haircuts. Every Complete Men preserve their inner identity, even the ones at the ‘process’ of learning. There is no homogenous thing in that sense, for it would be a manner of repressing the students who attend to The Schools. Each School in itself already has a righteous look, a diplomatic ambience. The most interesting is that the students are valid to speak about just anything despite it sometimes resembles to a code. Unlike military institutions, which repress the recruits so they could unleash tension on the battlefield, the Complete Men Schools invest on courage, in the good will and in arguing techniques as the best play. That was one of the premises to persuade the Other. For them, to know the true nature of the Man was the basis for all higher education. Being a social diplomat was a humanist demand based on attention, wisdom and gratitude. Nearly every common person is ungrateful, frankly ungrateful. To acknowledge the strength of the many is not to be compliant but to be superior, instead.”

After reading these last lines, considering that the rest of the notes was all about just tables, charts, numbered tasks and lists of names with attributed codes, Rafael decided to go home where he took a shower. He had some tagliatellefor dinner and then went to a bistrotwhere he asked for an old cognac with an extremely mellow scent. He stopped a bit to think on that moment. He recalled that he had to call Sylvie to ask her how was going her day at the job, and then after smoking some Davidoffs and exchanging words with the bartender he commuted to get to the newspaper building. He paid the taxi driver some bucks he had on the pockets.

Now, at nighttime, one could stare at the neon letter sign on the 49^thfloor of the skyscraper. It was on that floor that Roberta’s office was, and where Paulo Renato would be expecting him. The dark blue building with purple shades reflected the landscape in glassy stripes. It was a post-modernist symbol of reflective glass, touching the clouds high in this part of city the center.

— Good evening. Mr. Paulo is arriving — said the receptionist announcing that Paulo Renato was on his way to meet him —You can go up. You are Mr.Rafael Sterling, aren’t you? — asked the woman arching the bright lipstick-lips, as bright as the eyes half-hidden behind the Prada’s brand mark glasses.

— Yes, it is I. — he answered still tense, returning the formal smile.

— Well, he his waiting for you.

— Thank you. — he replied to the receptionist.

As Rafael crossed the office, he thoroughly observed each person getting on the elevator, trying to grasp who might be involved with the Complete Men School. Journalists, accountants, administration staff, managers, secretaries, everyone could be potentially Complete ones. The thing is that they still did not know it yet, thought Rafael. This was the way things were.

“After all how could we identify people?” he said to himself as he advanced. “My God, I seem one of the Complete ones thinking…”— he said lowering his voice when one of the people on the elevator observed him involuntarily, yet with eyes for specific details. Rafael passed his hands through his hair in an attempt to become calm which through that gesture he marked his hairlines. One woman wearing a tailleurstared at him with joy. He did not return back such charming smile because his girlfriend, Sylvie, came to his mind.

As he reached the 49^thfloor, Paulo Renato greeted him and told that the pictures were already processed and that the only thing missing was to order a print of what the software had handled. They both sat down and leaned forward, looking at the black and white pictures, which by now seemed clearer. One could easily observe the faces, by the way, with perfect clarity. The software Renato used performed wonders for Rafael’s cause and the latter could not drive his eyes of the pictures.

— Rafael, as you may see, the photos are now in a much higher quality. I am a genius, right? stated Paulo in an arrogant, yet friendly tone.

— It is true that…— before Renato continued Rafael interrupted him asking him to examine a photo where the people in the picture are three men talking in a street. Someone from a flat in front must have taken these photos.

— This one is excellent.

— Yes, it is.

— Can we increase the billboard of advertising?

— Yes.

— Great! — said Rafael in a higher tone, while smiling. In the picture, the three men were having a relaxed chat, all wearing shades. They were meeting next to a newspaper stand. In the commercial billboard that sided the stand, the commercial promoted the movie Gattacaand it was mentioned that the premiere was due to January 2002.

— I did not see this one coming. — assumed Rafael surprised, while grabbing the metal square of his belt.

— What? — replied Renato like the one got stuck adrift in space.

— Nothing, nothing. Please print this picture for me.

— I’ll do it. And what about the other ones?

— Show me the one in which a group is performing a sort of a dancing scene in the alley.

— This one? — asked Renato waiting for confirmation.

— Yes!

Renato enhanced the image. He saw someone in the photo grabbing a business card and handing it to a second person.

— Please, enhance this area, just the part of the card.

— This one?

— Yes. — Rafael did not know what to say. One could read well the data on the business card of the individual wearing an overcoat. And in the card it was written:

Franscisco Madsen

Legal Adviser

Thinkers of the Lights, Avenue, 1s front.

1005353 CBR Beautiful City

Rafael was astonished. Finally, he got access to fine decent photos. He had a contact. And all of this thanks to Paulo Renato. Rafael thanked him, leaving a ticket to him for attending a music concert by Idoru Seithat he had received in order to write a minor review about it. Since he was not interested in attending to this concert, he offered the ticket to Renato who well deserved it.

— I do not know what to say! — Renato was surprised.

— So am I! — replied Rafael as he retrieved the photos already printed from the video-printer, smiling a lot.

On his way out, Rafael bumped against a blond platinum bright hair woman. He rushed to say he was sorry and used the opportunity to greet her by saying: — By the way, the outfit you wear is a killer outfit. You are just too much. Have a nice day! — Rafael expressed his apologies to her. While he was exiting the building, he realized that he and Renato had spent hours and hours at The Autonomous Zone, speaking and having coffee. However, the best part is that they had achieved some fine results. Rafael was thrilled with the progress. He fell asleep in the living room couch with the notebook of the Complete ones on his belly. The TV was still on running MTV video clips along with static interference, and his ashtray was so full of cigarettes butts that it seemed to be a post-modern sculpture installation. He woke up just in the middle of the afternoon with an orange light casting stripes on the sleepy face full of marks due to the sofa texture.

He rushed to the bathroom, shaved his face and took a shower. He kept a lot of time chatting with Sylvie on the phone. Although he was impatient that his mind was whirling thoughts and images like a washing machine centrifuge, even so he managed to be sweet and polite with her. He knew that if all went well with this report, he could travel with her and go on a cruise ship to the Greek islands in August. Crete was the passion of the century in his own imaginary. He received telepathic invitations about it often. During the phone call, he had with his girlfriend a photo from the leather case fell on the floor. The image was the one Paulo Renato enhanced from the frame of the business card in the hand of one of the Complete ones. Sylvie could be speaking about the end of the world that in Rafael’s mind unraveling the plot involving the operations and the cults of the Complete ones was priority number one. Nothing else seemed to occupy his mind.

Rafael turned his cellphone off without realizing what Sylvie was telling him. He agreed with lots of questions and then he said farewell with a kiss. The cellphone remained off line, but the printed image of the business card stood in his hands. He was still wet after the bath with Gaultier perfumed gel. The cellphone rang and in the 4D display, it was written “R.Wagner”. Roberta was calling him. Rafael picked up the phone:

— Hello, Roberta, how are you?

— I’m fine, and you Mr. Sterling?

— Fine, thanks. You know… I kept all night around your computers with Renato and we found some nice things. Not only did we manage to increase the definition of the images, but also we managed as well to highlight the details in one of them, one in which several individuals are close to a newsstand. I discovered the data about one of them, a Francisco Madsen of some sorts. All thanks to augmenting his business card. And it is a fact that the photos were shot in 2002, too. In other words, our boys exist, they leave traces behind and, above all, they are still probably in the active. — Rafael added, smiling.

— Awesome! And what else?? —asked Roberta with an impressive intonation.

— This means that there must be estate records or services performed by companies, at least from this Mr.Madsen. Anyway, judging from the date of the premiere of a movie that shows up on the newsstand on the photos, our boys are still working on.

— It is possible but why are you so sure? —Roberta returned the question and scratched the back of her head with a pen.

— Because they would not be just planning something only until January 2002. In my opinion, they are still on duty.

— Is that so? — Roberta asked, making a doubtful facial expression as she wrinkled her nose.

— Believe me. I have a hunch. — Rafael was brief but determined.

— Ok. — Roberta accepted it, she was happy. She also knew it was not useful to go against him on this matter. After all, he was really getting soaked in the research. Most likely, only him could disclose certain elements and consolidate arguments, regardless of what that could be.

— I just need to check this address.

— Ok, then. Please Rafael, you search for it online. I have many things to do here at the office. Later we could have a cup of coffee and make an incursion to the address you got from the photos. What do you say about it? — said the veteran journalist, with a nosy look.

— It seems fine for me.

— Well, then we could meet at 8:30 pm at the Black Label, it is a place close to the office of The Autonomous Zone.

— I will be there.

— Ciao! — replied Rafael, displaying a smile of joy, as if once in a lifetime women and success were in the same plate.

Since it was still early, Rafael turned the computer on and went online. He got in a search engine to find something more about this Francisco Madsen. He wrote it in every possible way only to find out anything special. Even though he was getting closer to the truth; there were times in which Rafael felt more accurately that things picked him up, not otherwise. To tell the truth with Roberta and Renato’s help he had turned some puzzles into something intelligible, in the meantime the Mary-go-round seemed to have a life of its own, and a distant one, by the way. However, for the time being there was something that Rafael could not reach, no matter how interesting the case was he still felt as if he was still outside the scenario of the Complete ones. There was something more missing… as for instance to attend a ritual, a ceremony, or a class of the Complete ones. This was highly unlikely to happen. Perhaps the Complete ones were not even in the active anymore… but… there was always a “but”.