13 Chapter 13

"When you attacked Michael, did he try to defend himself?" Louis asked Solono while puffing on his cigar.

"No," Solono replied. He didn't see it coming."

"What do you mean? You took a man's life and didn't look him in the eye?"

Solono paced on the worn hardwood floors of Louis' office.

"What did the son of a bitch do to my daughter?"

"Nothing, Father Louis. He disrespected our family and he deserved his fate."

Just then a throbbing headache tackled Solono to the floor. Pain shot from the left side of his head to the right. His lips were glued to the floor by a puddle of saliva. Constant, deafening ringing filled his ears. As he lay helplessly on the cold floor, memories of his childhood flashed in his mind. Brief flashbacks of his Papa. He saw his old cottage and the area where he would spend hours riding his bicycle. A flashback of the beautiful Cerro Perro Mountain in the distance as it stood tall like a big brother to the Cerro Leon and the Cerro Nu Canny.

After what seemed like an eternity but was actually a few seconds, he was lifted to his feet by one the guards.

"Are you ok?" Louis asked.

"Yes. I'm ok."

Louis summoned for one of his guards to fetch a cup of water while Solono gathered himself. In the corner was a wooden chair that Solono navigated himself to and fell upon.

"Involuntary memory!" Louis said as he puffed his cigar.

"What?" said Solono.

"Involuntary memory. That's what these blackouts are called in the medical field. That's what you suffer from. There are certain events or subjects that evoke recollections of your past. They were more frequent when you were younger, but you probably don't remember because you were a little Chamaco.

Solono held his breath. It was rare for Louis to discuss Solono's past. Louis continued. "Julia wanted to check you into a manicomio. I agreed but only if the visits to the doctor weren't effective."

Solono looked at the guards, who feigned disinterest.

"Did he go to the Ypacaraí to fetch that cup of water?" Solono said attempting to change the topic.

"You're absolutely right. Ricardo, can you please see what is taking so long?"

Just as Ricardo was about to leave the room, the security guard returned with a glass and handed it to Solono who guzzled it.

"Thank you," he said to the security guard, who nodded. "I'm sorry, Father Louis, but can we continue this conversation later? I need to lay down."

"Sure Solono. Get some rest and we'll pick up where we left off another time."

As Solono entered the barn, the stench hit him like a ton of bricks. Not the smell he was accustomed to, but a more rancid fragrance. Berry and Pine, his black and brown horses, had their faces buried in a pile of hay. Chalo the chicken and his family plucked away at corn and grains spread across the dirt floor. Pulo and Duby, the only two sheep spared from supper by Louis, were roaming the barn. Where was Pablo?

Pablo was the oldest animal, a pig who strutted around the barn as if it was his kingdom. Solono scanned the room, but Pablo was nowhere to be found. With the olio of him being missing and the dreadful odor, Solono got nervous about what he might discover.

"Pablo!" Solono yelled.

Wandering through the maze of hay, farm equipment and animals, he stumbled upon Pablo. Partially covered in hay, his eyes wide open, Pablo had been decomposing there for days. If you die with your eyes open, that meant you sinned. How could that be true if Pablo was just a pig? When Solono's Papa was killed his eyes were open, too. Solono wondered if his father was a sinner?

Solono grabbed a shovel and wheelbarrow. Lifting Pablo into the rusty wheelbarrow, he moved him to the yard outside the barn near the Tabebuia Impetiginosas that were planted years prior. The leaves were the same color as Pablo's skin. Solono couldn't think of a better resting place.

After burying Pablo, Solono sat with his back against the tree staring at the Cultura Guraraní that he shoved in the ground as a headstone. Pablo had to cope with his life beeing spared while his siblings' lives were snatched away. How did he function with that weight on his heart every day?