Chapter 3
It was a good night, considering the circumstances.
I don’t want to talk about my sex life here.
Even during this confession, a little bit of privacy should be preserved.
All I’ll say is that it was enjoyable enough to get me out of my own head, at least until I came back home late Monday morning.
I wanted to make a quick stop at the bank to transfer the rent payment before heading to work.
The idea was to take a shower, change, and be out the door in under ten minutes, but then I found Hugo in the kitchen making grilled cheese.
“I called you all weekend,” I said.
“I didn’t have my phone on me. Cora told me what happened yesterday.”
“It was a close call, Hugo.”
“It was nothing.” There was contempt in his voice. “The car was clean.”
“Where did you take it to get it fixed? Maybe the guys at the mechanic suspected something.”
“Don’t worry. I took care of everything while you were locked in your room.”
“How much did it cost? How did you pay?”
“Give me a fucking break, Dante. I took care of our problem. I manned up. Stop being a whiny little bitch.”
Hugo didn’t even bother to look me in the eyes. He put the sandwich on a plate and sat down at the counter to eat.
“Where were you this weekend?” I asked.
“Fuck off.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. Even though I knew Hugo was stronger than me, I punched him.
With the second blow, Hugo lost his balance.
He retaliated, kicking me in the shin and jumping on top of me.
My hands scrambled for purchase on the counter, closing on the power cord of the electric griddle.
I fell to the ground, bringing the cord, griddle, and Hugo with me.
The cooktop hit him on the head, slicing open his eyebrow.
Now enraged, Hugo punched me in the face.
I felt my mouth fill with blood. He was already raising his arm again when he suddenly stopped.
We were face-to-face, panting, his body on top of mine, his forearm on my neck.
“I’m still waiting for you to answer,” I managed to say. I ran my tongue over my teeth. They were all in place, but the metallic taste was getting stronger. “I’m not going to drop it.”
He hesitated but lowered his arm, moving away. He swiped at the blood running down the right side of his face.
“It was Umberto, okay? He saved us.”
“What are you saying?”
“He came to see me on Saturday,” said Hugo, dabbing his bloody eyebrow with a napkin.
“He wanted to know more about the dinner, one thing led to another, he asked me how we’d gotten the body, and …
I told him the truth. You, who’s supposed to be my friend, think I killed that homeless guy on purpose, but Umberto, a total stranger, he believed me.
He warned me that the police might come knocking and offered to get Bukowski fixed at a repair shop he trusts.
He did it in less than twenty-four hours. ”
“Great, now that Nazi thinks we owe him!” I said.
How could Hugo be so stupid? “The cop noted that the car was black, not burgundy, which is what it said on the registration. Not to mention, he could still make a connection to the CCTV footage of the corpse being stolen from the hospital. I’m sure somebody out there saw a black Ford Focus driving around. ”
Hugo laughed. “You’ve been watching too much CSI.”
“I’m just being realistic!” I said. “This Umberto guy wants to destroy us.”
“He just wants to work with us, Dante. Umberto really loved the dinner. He wants to hold more, and make a bunch of money doing them. I know he also talked to you.”
“I’m not falling for it. All this craziness started because we needed to pay the rent. I’m going to deposit the money today, and the problem will be solved. We don’t have to continue with this. Let’s just move on with our lives, Hugo.”
“Move on with this ridiculous life?” He crumpled the dirty napkin and threw it in the trash.
“I’m done, Dante! After all this, do you really think I want to keep slaving away at that catering company, making barely fifteen hundred a month, without anyone acknowledging my talent?
I’m fucking special, man! I’m so much more talented than those celebrities with cooking shows!
Everybody steals, everybody embezzles, everybody puts themselves first in this piece-of-shit country—so why should I be stuck swimming against the current?
I’ve had enough. I want the prestige, man.
I want recognition, I want to captivate people with my cooking! And I want money!”
I filled my mouth with water, rinsed, and spat the filthy red liquid into the sink.
“And your chef’s specialty will be cannibal dinners?”
“So what? The world’s at war, everyone hates one another. It’s only natural that some of us get swallowed up by the others. It’s like that guy from Fight Club says: ‘Maybe self-destruction is the answer.’”
“You can’t be serious.”
“This could be the future of fine dining, Dante. You saw how the guests reacted … It’s unlike anything else!”
“So you’re going to kill people? Is that it?”
“Umberto has a plan to use people who are already dead. Nobody will need to kill anyone. I already spoke to Piglet and Cora about it. They’re in.”
“Miguel is never going to say yes.”
“He’s got other shit going on. He’s a doctor, he’ll be fine. He can move forward with his life, and we’ll move on with ours. Umberto Marcondes de Machado is on our side, Dante. He’s high-class, he’s one of the elites!”
“A dying elite…”
“He fixed Bukowski to save our asses. He could do these dinners himself, but he wants to go into business with us. Finally things are turning around … I’m not going to waste this opportunity.”
“I’m out,” I said firmly.
“Fine.” Hugo nodded, picked up his sandwich, now cold, and took his first bite. “I’m doing this with or without you.”
“Good luck.”
I turned my back. Incredible. It was like Hugo was on the bottom bunk, with his ego on top.
Cannibal dinners! Though I was running late, I hopped in the shower to try to relax.
The truth is, I was scared to death. Scared to say yes to Umberto, scared of saying no and regretting it.
The certainty with which Hugo had agreed outraged me, not just because the idea was absurd, but because I’d been entertaining it ever since my conversation with Umberto and I still hadn’t been able to make a decision.
Once, on the wall of a public restroom, I saw a poem:
WHEN YOU’RE IN DEEP SHIT
SWIM IN IT