1 While The Blood Runs Warm

Chapter 1

DECEMBER was the best time of the year in Paraguay. At least for Solono it was. Beautiful creatures of the forest were sensations to the eyes. Like most lands in the region, Paraguay has only wet and dry periods. Winds would play a major role in influencing Paraguay's climate: between October and March, warm winds would blow from the Amazon Basin in the North, while the period between May and August brought cold winds from the Andes. Areguá, located in the Central Department, where Solono was born, bordered Brazil and was home to a chain of beautiful, mountains. There was the Cerro Corá, Tacurý Pytá, Guasú and Alambique. The most important hills were located in the National Park. This is where Solono took refuge during his fishing trips, with his Papa in the gentle streams and lakes near the Guasu Mountains.

Solono's Papa, Jose Gasper Rodriguez, named after Paraguay's first President, especially loved that time of the year. He would choose a weekend and on that Saturday he would wake up at five in the morning and prepare a wonderful breakfast: Spanish omelet, Pan Con Tomate and Solono's favorite, Jamón iberico, the best ham in South America. He had no issues getting Solono to rise in the morning from his twin bed thirty minutes later. The smell of cooked ham was always an effective alarm clock. It was the same routine every year. Even though Solono was six years old at the time, he remembered it like it had just taken place.

Papa would sit at the table and order Solono to set the table with two glasses of milk, napkins, forks, spoons, and two knives. Papa would always sit in the hard-wooden stained chair facing the window in order to watch the mountains nearby that were viewable through the kitchen window. At times Solono would catch him gazing out of the window as if his mind took him to another place. He knew during a lot of those moments Papa reminisced about Solono's mother and older sister who had died suddenly and tragically the year prior in an automobile accident. Solono was supposed to accompany them but Papa insisted on him staying behind to help him tend to the chickens, goats and cows. He never talked much about it. He wanted to protect Solono. He figured Solono didn't understand death. But during these gazing moments Solono could see a look in his Papa's eyes that said something was missing in his life. Solono would never interrupt him during these silent periods. He would focus on breakfast and patiently wait for Papa to strike up a conversation.

"So how many fish do you think you are going to catch today, son?" Papa asked.

A simple shrug of his shoulders would be Solono's reply, never looking up from his breakfast.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Papa responded with a childish smile. "I've given you all the tools you need to feed generations of Rodriguez's and you say you don't know? You are so much like your mother!"

"Ok Papa, I'm going to catch a million fish and take care of everyone in the Central Department, every man, woman and child. Would that make you proud, Papa?" Solono said while laughing and chewing the ham that my Papa had made.

"That would not only make me proud, son, that would also make your mother and sister in Heaven proud too."

Solono beamed.

At the age of six, the thought of making his family proud meant the world to him, especially his father. With his hair more grey than black, Papa was a hard-working man. At his youthful age of fifty-four he would breed his cattle and goats and sell the meat to local markets for 630 guaranies a pound. It wasn't much, but it was enough to take care of the both of them. Papa was an advocate of hard work, sometimes working twenty hours a day. He slept just enough to say that he got some rest.

"Anything worth having is worth working for!" he would always say. That one statement was embedded in Solono's soul.

After breakfast, Papa instructed Solono to clean the table. As he rushed to put dishes in the sink, Papa headed outside to load his 1925 Toyota Land Cruiser with all the tools needed for their day of fishing: Two fishing poles that he made out of timber and fishing thread, numerous types of bait to catch perch that Papa would cook after their outing, a Styrofoam cooler filled with ice, a six-pack of colas, two wooden chairs and Papa's radio that he kept on the station La Voz del Amambay to stay current with local politics.

"How long is it going to take you to clean that kitchen boy? All the fish will be gone by the time we get there. Hurry up son!" Papa yelled into the house.

"Coming!" Solono yelled back as he scattered throughout the kitchen putting half cleaned dishes in the old wooden cabinets. As he darted outside towards the truck, Papa revved the engine and drove the truck forward a few feet.

"Papa!!!"

"What's wrong? You're taking so long I thought you didn't want to come." he replied with a look on his face of unconditional love that only a parent knows for their child.

As Solono opened the rusty passenger door and climbed in, Papa reached over and ruffled his stringy black hair.

"Let's go catch some fish, son!"

The drive to Apa River was ambient. Unleveled pebble roads and tall Karandays carved the way through the Estrella Forest. Long Horn beetles and Lantern bugs had barely stopped singing their harmonic tunes that only the darkness would bring. Gigantic mountains like the Cerro Corá and Tacurý Pytá reared their monstrous heads in the far distance. Solono loved it. And by the look on his Papa's face, he loved it also. For him it was therapeutic. It was a time for him to leave the hassle of the real world behind and visit this euphoric world with gentle streams and exotic sights to be with the only family he had left...his son.

"Papa?" Solono said. "What happens when you die?"

Papa quickly glanced at Solono and shifted his eyes back to the road without uttering a response. After a minute, he replied, "I'm not sure, son. I hope it's somewhere beautiful. Wherever it is, I'm pretty sure your mother and Maria are there keeping everyone and everything in order." After his well-thought-out answer, he would get quiet and leave to that other world

that only he was invited. Satisfied with his answer, Solono just stared out the window.

Solono knew his Papa wasn't a very devout man and especially after the loss, any chances of him believing in God were nonexistent. He couldn't understand why God would take two innocent lives. He couldn't understand why the soul of his existence was snatched away from him so unexpectedly. Nevertheless, any answer Papa gave Solono was suffice. Nothing that exited his Papa's mouth was incorrect. If Papa said the sky was purple, Solono would believe him and not his own eyes. His Papa would never lie to him.

As they arrived at the Apa, before Papa's truck came to a complete stop, Solono hopped out and darted through the high grassland and over the huge rocks that rested near the littoral. Seagulls and other various birds scattered in all directions.

At his young age, this occasion was pure bliss to Solono. Spending time with his Papa, having his undivided attention for an entire day was rare. Besides the herd that Solono tended to, his Papa was his best friend. During these trips is when Solono received valuable wisdom from his Papa.

"Save ten percent of every cent you earn" or "Be kind, because everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle!" These lessons never left Solono.

Solono also learned about his grandparents. Because Papa's mother was raped during the Paraguay War, he never knew his father. His mother died a few years after he was born so that left his uncle, his mother's older brother, to raise him and his two sisters along with his own seven kids.

Because there were so many living in a small cabin, that left Papa to raise himself. With no formal education, Papa was put to work in the fields of local neighbors where he learned all trades from gardening to landscaping to carpentry. No school could have taught Papa what he learned during these times. Not knowing his father left a deep void in his heart and it became imperative for him that he played a significant role in Solono's life.

Solono was so hypnotized by the stunning scenery and the anticipation of the day that he didn't hear his Papa yelling to him to come help. Papa had already made multiple trips emptying the truck. Solono ran towards Papa, panting, attempting to assist but Papa just shook his head and smiled.

"Thanks, but you're too late. How about you teach this old man how to fish and we'll call it even?"

"You got it Papa!"

He understood what this day meant to Solono. He knew there was no other place in the world Solono would rather be.

"Papa? What do I have to do to be a man like you?"

Papa paused while setting up the fishing post. To avoid scaring away the fish, he gestured for Solono to lower the volume on the radio.

"Solono, you are doing a lot of deep thinking today I see, which is a good thing. These fishing trips allow me to do a lot of thinking too and that's why I bring you along, to do the same." He continued while arranging the bait. "You are already like me. Exactly like I was at your age. I look at you every day and night and I see myself. You are a beautiful person, an angel. As long as you do well by people, people will do well by you. Remember that son! If you do bad by people, people will do bad by you."

Solono stood still, listening with fierce attentiveness and looking his father straight in the eyes. Just one of many life lessons he cherished.

As their bait lines rested in the Apa anticipating the hungry fish, Solono noticed in the not-too-far distance a cloud of dust from the pebbled road, unhurriedly inching its way towards their location. Not to be alarmed, Papa ignored the dust. The road was a frequently used shortcut through the Areguá so there was no reason for concern. As the dust drew closer, the sound of car engines became apparent. Within minutes, a motorcade of black luxury vehicles appeared. Papa stood and signaled for Solono to stay put.

The fleet of black vehicles, all bore red, white and blue flags with the inscription "Peace and Justice." on the driver side doors. They stopped near Papa's pickup truck. A middle-aged man wearing an all-white military uniform with numerous medals and patches was the first to exit the head vehicle of the convoy. All the other men were wearing green uniforms and carried large machine guns. With a cigar in his mouth and dark shades hiding his eyes, this white-clad man, slowly approached Papa.

"Greetings sir! Sorry to disturb this precious father and son time, Mr.?"

"Rodriguez," Papa replied.

"Mr. Rodriguez, I don't recall much about my childhood, but if I were to remember anything, I believe I would treasure father and son moments like this. What a handsome young man. How old are you son? Eight, nine years old?"

A cloud of cigar smoke departed his mouth as he spoke. Solono didn't utter a word.

"How can I help you, sir?" Papa said. Wrinkles began to form in his forehead and his complexion began to pinkish.

"How can you help me you ask?

Well first answer a question for me Mr. Rodriguez, do you know who I am?"

Papa shook his head.

"My name is Louis Rojas Silvay and I am the current President of the Republic of Paraguay."

Both Papa and Solono listened attentively. Solono wondered why the President of Paraguay was interrupting their fishing trip. And how did he even know they were there?

"A lot of my people would like to give me the title of a dictator. I hate that title. I prefer a thankless hero. I like to believe that I do what's right for my beautiful country. I would like to think that the hard decisions that I have to make every day will better the future for our young children like your adorable son here."

President Silvay took another drag from his cigar, exhaled with a cloud of smoke and continued.

"That brings me to your original question, what can you do for me? Well Mr. Rodriguez, what you can do for me is tell me why you are here?"

"With all due respect President Silvay, I'm fishing with my son. We do this every --"

"Why are you in Paraguay, Mr. Rodriguez?"

After a short pause Papa said, "I'm not sure who you think I am Mr. President, but I was born here. I own a piece of land about fifty-miles up the road, sir. I've lived here my entire life".

Solono could tell by the look on his father's face that there was some reason for concern. He focused his attention on the entourage that stood behind the President and stared at the soldier who bore a hideous scar on the right side of his face. As he stared, he wondered what happened in his life that caused the disfigurement. Solono could not take his focus off of the soldier until he heard his father plead.

"President Silvay, Please!"

Solono instantly snapped his attention back to his father and noticed that President Silvay had a silver revolver pointed at Papa's head. Solono darted from his fishing stool but was immediately grabbed by one of the President's guards. Kicking and punching, Solono screamed.

"Stop it! Put me down! Leave My Papa Alone!"

His yelling fell onto deaf ears.

"I consider myself a fair man Mr. Rodriguez so I'm going to give you another opportunity. Why are you in Paraguay?" He pressed the revolver firmer against his forehead.

Papa stood, helpless, with his head lowered attempting to explain.

"President Silvay, please! I am here with my son and all we are doing is fishing. I'm positive that if you give me the opportunity, I can prove to you who I am. I have very little money that I make selling herd that I raise, I have no political affiliation, and I'm not associated with any sort of rebellion. I beg you sir, please show mercy and--"

Papa's appeal was interrupted by a loud popping sound. A mist of red exited the back of his head. His body jerked and slumped to the ground. Other than the radio in the background debating the current defeat of the Paraguay football team against Argentina, it was complete silence. Those few seconds seemed like eternity.

"Papa! Papa! Papa!" Solono yelled while kicking and screaming, freeing himself from the guard.

"Paaapaaaa!"

The screams instantly turned into loud, uncontrollable cries.

"Papa, please get up Papa! Papa! No Papa! Please get up.".

Pain and agony shot through his body. He knew his father would rise from the ground, knock the dirt off of his clothing, smile and say, "Solono, I'm ok!"

But nothing! Not a sound. Not a movement. Not a single person to grab him and say everything would be ok. Just his father's lifeless body lying there in the grass covered in blood with his eyes open.

Resting his head upon his Papa's chest and tears streaming down his face, Solono whispered,

"Papa, please don't leave me! Please Papa! I need you!"

President Silvay ordered one of his men to grab Solono and put him in the car. As the guard hauled him away, Solono shut his eyes tight and whispered a prayer.

"Dear God, please let this be a nightmare. Please don't take my father away from me. Please let it be when I open my eyes that the first thing I see is my father sitting on his chair, fishing rod in hand, telling me a silly story about when he was a child. Please God. I'll do anything you want. Amen".

Solono opened one eye hoping that his prayer was answered. But the reality was that his Papa was dead. Murdered like a wild animal. The man he cherished and the man he idolized was gone. Taken by a man he didn't know. His hurt turned to rage. As the guard sat Solono in the back seat of the vehicle he put up the best fight a six-year old could manage.

"Let me go! Let me go!" he yelled.

His demands were unanswered as the convoy drove away from the horrific scene. As he gazed out the rear window, beyond the dust, he could still see the fishing equipment, that just hours prior, he was excited to pack, the chairs, the cooler, the radio and his Papa's truck getting smaller and smaller the farther away they drove. Worst, he could still see his father's lifeless body left to be dined upon by animals. As the convoy drove further and further away, the realization set in that Solono was being taken away from what was considered home. His vision became blurry. The men in the car where having a conversation but he could not comprehend what they were saying. Drenched in sweat, Solono's body began to feel hot. He became confused. He asked the man with the scar for water and suddenly everything went black.