Chapter-1: The Old Business of Men
Friday afternoon roasted away at a slow even pace. Diego expected Amado Aguilar to arrive on time for his 1:00 pm appointment. He didn’t. Two and a half hours after lunch, Diego still waited for his afternoon meeting to begin.
At present, Diego walked in straight lines. He paced in the main lobby of the bank searching for relief. His attention shifted from the honey marbled floor, to the lacquered mahogany interior and to his clerks and to his customers. None of this helped. The tightness on his neck and chest remained. He grimaced.
Diego reached the main glass doors to the bank and stepped outside into an oven. Tremendous heat slapped him in the face, forcing him to shield his eyes from the deep blue sea and infernal sun above Mexico City. He squinted and searched the main road.
Poplar, pine and oak trees around the bank provided some shade from the power of the sun. While, inward curved palm trees leading up to the bank, bowed and swayed, mocking Diego’s continued search. Hopeful movement caught his attention a block away. Young women walked and laughed with opened umbrellas. He frowned. And, they went about their shopping.
Amado Aguilar appeared nowhere in sight.
“He’s two hours late.” Diego’s silver pocket watch cradled him in minimal comfort. A bullfrog image popped into his mind and he shook his head, and ignored his boiling discomfort. Move he thought. But, his body solidified more and remained frozen in place. The man he waited for had massive wealth. Amado Aguilar owned too many profitable businesses. And, the bank lusted over each gold and silver piece he gained.
Yet, there still remained something else that waxed within Diego, difficult to dismiss. It puzzled his mind and heart. In his reasoning, he considered his troubling dreams, the scorch of the day and even the child. In the end, he couldn’t decide on which one to blame for his current unease. Truth be known, his feelings of troubled anticipation had grown roots long before this day. And, waiting, needless waiting made it more pronounced and intolerable for him.
The slaps of the sun’s rays cooked his memories loose. Diego remembered his meeting in the church with Father Philippe. In their brief talk, he neglected to mention an accurate time frame of his personal matter. His troubling dreams extended back to at least five months, not one or two.
There was another detail he neglected to mention: a heavy memory from eight years ago. It squeezed at his heart at the worst possible moments.
He shook his personal thoughts away, and stepped back, and entered the bank. All safe, he walked back to his office. Business procedures repeated in Diego’s mind.
The bank’s policy for regular clients indicates rescheduling on the next available business day. No exceptions. Once fifteen minutes have passed over the allotted time, the bank must move on with the money.
Diego slowed his pace. He stopped in front of his office and stared at his leather chair and oak desk. He stood in a rigid stance and ignored his growing sickness and cold flustered face. He continued to think,
But, for big-money clients, such as Amado Aguilar, there is a modified policy. In this case, I have to send a courtesy messenger to his point of contact location after business hours at 5:00p.m. In Amado’s case, that’s ten kilometers away. Meaning, I wait for him to show; or, I wait for his word to return by messenger.
A cold shudder ran up Diego’s spine. He coughed and entered his office, and placed his attention on other bank business. First, he approved a request from a struggling farmer; and then he rejected two other loan requests. On occasion, Diego looked up at his grandfather clock and at his office door. Any minute, now, he thought, Don Amado will arrive.
An hour later, one of Diego’s assistants knocked on his door.
“Señor Diego, should I prepare a messenger for Don Amado?”
Diego looked up from the letter he worked on. “Money as usual, Patricio. Make ready for the messenger to depart at five with this letter. Another thing, we’re going to run a skeleton crew starting at four thirty. Begin the preparations and send most of our personnel home. At most, I need one courier and either you or Marco to stay behind. All else may leave.”
Patricio thought for a quick breath and replied,
“Yes, sir; and, if it’s fine with you, señor, I volunteer to stay behind. Marco assisted you with Doña Lupe’s avocado and livestock contracts … two weeks ago.”
Diego checked his clock once more and nodded.
“It would be unfair to single out Marco again. I appreciate you staying.”
Patricio smiled and looked at the loosely folded newspaper on Diego’s desk.
“My pleasure, señor; and, you were right. For the past two years, you were right. The United States of America entered civil war this year, as you predicted.”
Diego reached for a folder and looked up and shook his head.
“Not much of a prediction, Patricio. All human beings have a weakness for war, more so when money enters a riskier divided state of being. One month ago, Lincoln and the Americans reached their limits of uncertain risk. Of course they leaned into war.”
“Do you agree,” asked Patricio, “with the author of the article in that newspaper, Nuestra Palabra? He believes their war to be a conflict of morality and of consciousness.”
Diego sighed and straightened up in his chair. He pushed the news paper aside with a smirk.
“A fragmented union means more competition, more laws, more contracts and more agreements to manage. All that combined leads to less centralized business, less money and less certainty of control. It’s too risky. Consciousness, morality … that’s not even close. The true reason for any war remains unchanged throughout history: greed, money and control.”
Patricio tapped on the door frame with his left hand. “Greed, money and control, señor … what about the other article on the front page?”
Diego secured his letter in the folder and placed everything in a leather satchel.
“I wouldn’t be too concerned about that other country; at least, not this year. Mexico still has time to iron out any disagreements and avoid another war. There is still time for peaceful business.”
Thank you for your time.
Next Monday, I will post the fourth part of chapter-1.
Total Consciousness 