That night, after supper, he asked Fonchito if he was tired.
“No,” his son replied. “Why, Papa?”
“I’d like to talk with you for a moment, if you don’t mind.”
“As long as it isn’t about Edilberto Torres, I’d be happy to,” Fonchito said mischievously. “I haven’t seen him again, so don’t worry.”
“I promise we won’t talk about him,” replied Don Rigoberto. And as he used to do when he was a boy, he shaped a cross with two fingers and swore, kissing them: “I swear to God.”
“Don’t take God’s name in vain — after all, I’m a believer,” Doña Lucrecia admonished. “Go into the study. I’ll tell Justiniana to bring you your ice cream there.”
In the study, while they were enjoying the lucuma ice cream, Don Rigoberto, between mouthfuls, spied on Fonchito. Sitting across from him with his legs crossed, he ate his ice cream in slow spoonfuls and seemed absorbed in some distant thoughts. He was no longer a child. How long had he been shaving? His face was smooth and his hair was tousled; he didn’t play a lot of sports but looked as if he did because his body was slim and athletic. He was a very good-looking boy, and the girls must be crazy about him. Everyone said so. But his son didn’t seem interested in those kinds of things; instead, he was interested in hallucinations and religious ideas. Was that a good or bad thing? Would he have preferred Fonchito to be a normal kid? “Normal,” he thought, imagining his son speaking the syncopated, simian jargon of the young people of his generation, getting drunk on weekends, smoking marijuana, getting high on coke, taking Ecstasy in the discos along the Asia beach at kilometer 100 on the Pan-American, as so many of Lima’s wealthy children did. A shudder ran through his body. A thousand times better for him to see phantoms or even the devil himself and write essays about evil.
“I read what you wrote about liberty and evil,” he said. “It was right there, on your desk, and I was curious. I hope you don’t mind. It impressed me a great deal, in fact. It’s very well written and full of original ideas. Which course is it for?”
“Language,” said Fonchito, not giving the subject much importance. “Professor Iturriaga asked for an essay on anything. That topic came to mind. But it’s only a rough draft. I still have to correct it.”
“I was surprised, because I didn’t know you were so interested in religion.”
“You thought it was religious?” Fonchito was surprised. “I think it’s more like philosophy. Well, I don’t know, philosophy and religion blend into each other, that’s true. Weren’t you ever interested in religion, Papa?”
“I studied at La Recoleta, a priests’ academy,” said Don Rigoberto. “After that, at the Universidad Católica. And for a time I was even a leader of Acción Católica, with Pepín O’Donovan. Of course it interested me a great deal when I was young. But one day I lost my faith and never got it back again. I think I lost it as soon as I began to think. To be a believer, you can’t think too much.”
“In other words, you’re an atheist. You believe there isn’t anything before or after this life. That’s being an atheist, isn’t it?”
“We’re getting into deep waters,” exclaimed Don Rigoberto. “I’m not an atheist, an atheist is also a believer. He believes that God doesn’t exist, isn’t that so? I’m more of an agnostic, if I’m anything. Someone who declares that he’s perplexed, incapable of believing either that God exists or that God doesn’t exist.”
“Neither fish nor fowl,” said Fonchito with a laugh. “It’s a very convenient way to avoid the problem, Papa.”
He had a fresh, healthy laugh, and Don Rigoberto thought he was a good kid. He was going through an adolescent crisis, suffering doubts and uncertainties regarding the afterlife and this life, which spoke well of him. How he would have liked to help him. But how, how could he?
“Something like that, though there’s no need to make fun of me,” he agreed. “Shall I tell you something, Fonchito? I envy believers. Not the fanatics, of course, who horrify me. Real believers. The ones who have a faith and try to organize their lives in accordance with their beliefs. Soberly, with no fuss and no foolishness. I don’t know many, but I do know some. And they seem enviable to me. By the way, are you a believer?”
Fonchito became serious and reflected for a moment before answering.
“I’d like to know more about religion, because I was never taught.” He avoided answering with a reproachful tone. “That’s why Chato Pezzuolo and I have joined a Bible-study group. We meet on Fridays after classes.”
“An excellent idea.” Don Rigoberto was pleased. “The Bible’s a marvelous book that everyone ought to read, believers and nonbelievers. First of all, for their general culture. But also to better understand the world we live in. Many things that happen around us come directly or indirectly from the Bible.”
“Is that what you wanted us to talk about, Papa?”
“No, not really,” said Don Rigoberto. “I wanted to talk to you about Ismael and the scandal we’re caught up in. I’m sure it’s all over your school too.”
Fonchito laughed again. “I’ve been asked a thousand times if it was true you helped him to marry his cook, as the papers say. You’re on all the blogs that cover that mess.”
“Armida was never his cook,” explained Don Rigoberto. “More like his housekeeper. She cleaned and managed the house, especially after Ismael lost his wife.”
“I’ve been to his house two or three times and don’t remember her at all,” said Fonchito. “Is she pretty, at least?”
“Presentable, let’s say,” Don Rigoberto conceded in a Solomonic way. “Much younger than Ismael, of course. Don’t believe all the nonsense in the press. That he was abducted, that he’s senile, that he didn’t know what he was doing. Ismael’s in his right mind and that’s why I agreed to be a witness. Of course I didn’t suspect that the uproar would be so awful. Well, it’ll pass. I wanted to tell you that they’ve held up my retirement in the company. The twins have accused me of alleged complicity in an abduction that never happened. And so for now I’m tied up here in Lima with summonses and lawyers. That’s what it’s about. We’re going through a difficult period, and until this is resolved, we’ll have to tighten our belts a little. Because it’s not a good idea to liquidate all the savings our future depends on. Yours especially. I wanted to keep you up to date.”