Refraction | Part 1 | Darwin's Steroids

34) The Mysterious Mr. Saurez

Excerpted from the journal of Dr. Melissa Jorgenthal:

My curiosity is absolutely piqued. I’ve just finished speaking with Mr. Suarez again. I was enjoying a sherry and watching the evening news when my door bell rang. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so it caught me quite off my guard. I went to the door in my dressing gown thinking maybe it was my neighbor, Mrs. Naylor. I peeked through the Judas Hole and there he was, looking slightly flustered, throwing glances over his shoulder into the night. When I opened the door, his desire to come inside and be hidden from view was almost palpable. Now I am not normally accustomed to granting entry into of home to strange men, and this Suarez is indeed a bit of an odd duck. But he had been kind to me at a terrible time in my life, so in he came.

I took him to the study and muted the television, offered him a drink. He took a whiskey and downed it all in one go. It seemed to have a calming effect on him, which was appreciated as his demeanor was beginning to make me feel jumpy. I offered him a seat, sat myself at my desk, and asked what I could do for him. I felt like there was a strange bravado in the room, the two of us behaving like caricatures of ourselves, larger than who we are, as if to ward off some impending danger. The bravado of children speaking loudly in the dark.

He took a moment to gather his words, twice he opened his mouth to speak, worked his lips for a moment then clamped his jaw shut. I thought perhaps it was a language thing, but although Mr. Suarez carried a thick accent, he had always seemed to communicate his ideas well enough. The third time was the charm. He began rolling his empty tumbler in his efficient looking brown hands. Workman’s hands, they reminded me suddenly of my grandfather.

“I like you pretty okay Dr. J”, He said.

“Well, thank you.” I replied, not knowing what else to say, I felt like an idiot. I think he realized the effect he was having so he pushed on, the crystal tumbler winking and flashing as it rotated between his palms. “No, I mean, when joo hire me for my services, joo break my heart a little. A lot of peoples they look happy when they see my photos, they gonna get money for the divorces. But joo look sad, joo husband was a pinche payaso, Dr. J. A clown. It make me sad to show you those photos.”

God he wasn’t going to ask me out, was he? I stayed quiet, deciding to let him have his full say before I stuck my foot in my mouth.

“Joo don want to fuck around with these peoples joo asking me about, Dr. J. Sorry for my cursing. But joo should know the seriousness of these peoples.”

I was stunned. He had come here to warn me? Of what?, I wondered. Certainly not the silly conspiracy types he was telling me about. Suddenly I felt like a bit player in thriller movie. I spoke, as much to break the charm of the feeling as for anything else.

“Don’t you think you're being a bit dramatic?”, I asked sounding all the fool I felt I was being. Mr. Suarez jumped to his feet, placing the tumbler gently on the corner of my desk.

“No, Dr. J. Is not drama. For these peoples it is not a game. Not a passing interest. This thing they are a part off is like the culebra, a viper waiting to strike. Joo leave it alone, joo be okay.”

With that he was finished. His nervous air had left him as he spoke. As I showed him out, I thanked him for his time and concern, assured him that really it had just been curiosity, and that I was much too busy with work to pursue the matter, even if I had wanted to. He seemed relieved when I told him I would take his warnings seriously.

I think I’ll take a peek at the National Archive when I get to Washington on Thursday.

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