“Yes! I hear it perfectly!”
“You’re hallucinating, Clemen. ”
“No, I’m not hallucinating!. Listen!. It’s a motor!. It’s Mono Harris!. ”
“Where?”
“Over there! It’s getting closer!”
“You’re right! I hear it now!”
“Row that way, Jimmy, so he doesn’t miss us!. It’s Mono Harris! We’re saved!”
“I hear it on the other side!. ”
“Don’t be a fool! It’s over there, Jimmy! Row over there!”
Haydée’s Diary
Tuesday May 2
Two nights without writing and so much to tell. Yesterday, the government issued an arrest warrant for Chente and some other university students; fortunately, they were forewarned and there were no arrests. They are in hiding; according to Raúl, only the leaders of the Student Strike Committee know their whereabouts. He also explained that the general made the announcement in order to intimidate anybody who might want to commemorate the one-month anniversary of the armed uprising. Raúl is deeply committed to the medical society strike. This afternoon he attended a meeting of doctors called by the director of Rosales Hospital at which they drafted a resolution calling on the government to commute all death sentences and decree a general amnesty for political prisoners. Raúl says the doctors are united and determined, and if the general fails to respond they will halt medical services in San Salvador and will not allow the warlock to execute Dr. Romero. I asked him if this measure would also affect the Polyclinic, or only the public hospitals, and what would happen in cases such as Don Jorge’s; he told me the strike would be general, but that patients in intensive care units would continue to receive medical attention. Poor Rosita is beside herself: again and again she asks herself what she did wrong that her son and her husband make her suffer so, as if it were their fault and not the warlock’s. I’ve tried to reason with her, explain that each of them is acting in accordance with the dictates of his own conscience, that now is the moment for us all to take risks to force that cruel man to leave the country and let us live in peace.
A whole detachment of policemen is in front of our house keeping surveillance on us. I fear they will arrest Betito; I’ve asked him to be very careful. Mother has suggested he stay at their house until the situation returns to normal; Betito has said he doesn’t want to leave me alone. Don Leo came by with the car this morning to drive him to school and brought him back in the afternoon, along with the news that as of tomorrow classes are cancelled until further notice. Betito said he and his classmates will spend all their time working to support the strike; there’s nothing I can do to stop him. Last night I realized that Chente’s disappearance has left me without a direct link to the university movement, and that it’s imperative I find a way to safely funnel the funds Father collects to the strikers. Raúl told me he would communicate my concern to the students so they can designate someone. I called Doña Chayito but didn’t find her. This morning I went to the Figueroas’; Fabito doesn’t appear on the list of students on the arrest order, and I thought I might find him at home. No luck. Carlota promised me she would tell her son I was looking for him, though she warned me that sometimes Fabito doesn’t even come home to sleep, he is always running around, working on organizing the strike. I was surprised that Carlota as well as Luz María are now quite receptive to the struggle against the general, the latter even admitting to me that she and her friends are forming a group to visit their friends and persuade them to close their shops when the strike is called. Carlota assured me her husband also supports the ultimatum the medical society gave the general, and he will do everything possible to stop the general from executing Dr. Romero, her gynecologist.
I told my parents about Dr. Ávila’s offer to Pericles. Father said my husband did the right thing to refuse; Mother called Doña Tina yesterday to wheedle information out of her, but she didn’t seem to know anything about it. I haven’t wanted to get involved because Pericles would never forgive me, though I’ve been chomping at the bit to call Don Ramón. My visiting day at the Central Prison is supposed to be Saturday; I have tried and failed to get in touch with Colonel Palma to get him to authorize a visit before then, that way I can find out if any other member of the government had gotten in touch with my husband or if Dr. Ávila has returned. I would like to discuss with my in-laws the offer he made to Pericles, but I would have to go all the way to Cojutepeque — it’s too dangerous to talk about it over the phone.
This afternoon I stopped by Hispania stationers to look for a beautiful notebook, one similar to my diary from Brussels, but I had no luck: there were several for schoolchildren, not convenient to write in. I asked Don Sebastián if by chance he had any notebooks in his storeroom; he said everything he had was on display. He asked after Pericles, his favorite client, as he calls him, because my husband is a fanatic about paper, pens, and ink; I told him about my visits to the Central Prison, about how arbitrary the authorities are acting, about my despair and my hope. Then I asked him what he thought about the strike as a way of forcing the general to step down, if he will support the effort and close his shop. He answered that he fears reprisals from the government, but if all the shops on the block close, he will also, and he’ll join the strike. I bought this notebook, the one I’m writing in now, which is fairly ordinary, on the condition that in his next order he get me a diary as lovely as the one I bought in Brussels.
Don Sebastián’s stationers is located on the same block as the Estradas’ notions store. I took the opportunity to go and talk to Carolina. She told me the same thing as her neighbor: she would close her shop if the others did, because if everyone doesn’t do it at the same time it will get them in trouble with the general and they’ll lose money, all for nothing. She’s right. I decided to tell her that the students have probably already decided on the date to start the strike, and that hopefully they will let us know soon. I took Don Sergio’s taxi at the Plaza Morazán; I asked him his opinion about the strike, but that man is as silent as a tomb, the very soul of discretion.
I went to my parents’ house after dinner. I asked Father about the strike date. He told me the students had wanted businesses to start shutting down yesterday, but business owners have asked for a little more time to prepare, so most likely the work stoppage will begin on Friday, though meetings are still being held with representatives of the associations and the guilds, especially with small businessmen, who are the most cautious, and among them, the Chinese and the Turks, who are afraid the general will throw them out of the country. The signal of the beginning of the strike will be the closing of the banks, Father said, and the biggest challenge will be to paralyze all public transportation, bring all trains, streetcars, buses, and taxis to a standstill. I told him that because of the warrant for Chente’s arrest, I have been left with no contact in the student movement, so I have no way to collaborate or get them funds, should the need arise. Father told me not to worry, the shop owners and the students are well connected, and I needn’t take risks, I should focus on convincing all my acquaintances to close their shops when the moment arrives; then he went to meet with his friends. I stayed a while longer talking with Mother, who told me how outraged she was yesterday, on the road to Santa Tecla, when she saw Mila riding in a car driven by a man she thought must be that Colonel Castillo. I frowned, but said nothing. I have no reason to allow my life to be embittered by that woman any longer. If the strike is successful, and the warlock and his minions are forced to leave, I will be satisfied — if and only if, of course, nothing happens to Clemens and Pericles.