Vengence is Mine

Revenge is sweet, or is it?

Written by:     Rodney L Dodig

As Pedro walked casually down the street, backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder, he was unaware that he was being watched. The nice clothes he wore, the expensive watch and full mochila (backpack) made him a target. The fact that he walked the same route everyday didn’t help either. Even in this seemingly safe area of Lima called Miraflores, a very brave ladron (thief) would take his chances.

This was the case with Luis; not that he was so much brave as he was desperate. Luis was in trouble and this was the only way he could think of to get the money he needed. He had lost his small job selling DVDs on the street. His supplier told him he wasn´t making him enough money. What he did make was barely enough to feed his family and now his son was sick. They needed S/.50 (Soles) to be able to take him to the doctor. It was a small fortune to him. He had tried begging and selling carmelos (candy) but it was taking too long to make the money.

Pedro was a thin man of regular height. He had a job at the BCP Bank on Larco as a loan manager. It was a good job and paid well. Well enough for him to afford nice clothes and have a small apartment not too far from Parque Kennedy. Every evening after putting in many hours in the bank, Pedro took his usual route home. He walked up Larco, through Parque Kennedy, across the Diagonal, down Berlin, then over on Arica to Calle Piura where his apartment building was located. Occasionally he would stop in Sandwich.com and have a coffee and snack. Other nights, he would make a quick stop in Vivanda to pick up a few groceries for the apartment, and then he would continue on his path home.

Luis had been following Pedro at a discrete distance for a week now. He did this partly to learn his routine and to figure out the best place to commit the act. He also needed this time to build up his courage. He had to act soon; his son was getting sicker every day, they were out of food except for a few papas amarillas (yellow potatoes) that his wife was using to make soup. He had finally selected the perfect spot. There were plenty of small, dark and hidden alcoves on Calle Berlin. Luis found a deep niche where he could wait for him and remain hidden from sight. Luis was a strong man so pulling Pedro into the alcove and holding the knife to his throat while he robbed him should not be a problem. Finally, he decided, he would do it tonight, he had read at the newsstand that there was no moon and a thick fog had been forecast for Miraflores.

Pedro left the bank at his usual time, stopping only for a juice at Sandwich.com. He even took the juice “para llevar” (to go) and sipped it leisurely as he strolled home. He had walked the route so many times that he was no longer nervous walking in the dark sections of Calle Berlin. After all, this was Miraflores and it was safe. All of a sudden he was yanked into a dark alcove by his mochila and pushed face first into a glass window. He could feel the knife at his throat as a sinister voice said, “Be quiet or I will kill you.” Pedro was so frightened that he couldn’t have uttered a word if he wanted do. As he looked in the glass of the window, he could see his attacker’s face. It burned into his memory, a face he would never forget. Then he closed his eyes and prayed for it to be over and that he would live.

As Luis searched Perdo’s pockets for valuables, stripped the expensive watch from his wrist and pulled the full mochilla from Perdo’s back, he failed to notice that his face was visible in the glass of the window. After taking Pedro’s valuables he said, “on your knees, and do not look as I leave or I will return and really finish the job.” Luis knew he could never kill a man. He hadn’t even thought ahead to what he would do if Pedro had resisted. Luis turned and ran to Av. Jose Pardo and jumped onto a combi (small bus), clutching his ill-gotten gains and feeling as if he would be physically sick. His paranoia at getting caught made him suspicious of everyone on the vehicle.

Getting off the combi in Surquillo he walked the few blocks to his home. Once in the house, he looked in the wallet (S/.320 Soles), the watch would probably bring him another S/.500 and the mochila and its contents another S/.200. He was rich; he would be able to take care of his family, at least for now.

Pedro ran home after he had built up the courage to leave the alcove. There, he immediately called the police and reported the crime. They came, took information on the stolen items and the very detailed description of the thief’s face. They told him that all would be reported, but he should not hold too much hope that they would be able to retrieve his belongings. There were just too many robberies in Lima not to mention the more serious crimes they had to deal with.

Afterwards, Pedro had trouble concentrating at work. He was afraid to walk home now and took taxis. Rage, anger and frustration filled his days and nights. It was months before he felt even remotely safe again but the image of the thief’s face kept haunting him and thoughts of vengeance filled his mind.

Luis had taken his son to the doctor and he had made a full recovery. He filled the cabinets with comidas (foods) and paid the rent. One of his friends had finally offered him another job driving a taxi. They used the same car and worked 12-hour shifts everyday but Sundays. Occasionally Luis would remember the robbery and feel shame that he had to do such a thing but things were good now and those thoughts came farther and farther apart.

As fate would have it, one sunny summer day Luis was in Parque de las Leyendas along with his family. They were enjoying seeing the animals and having a wonderful time. On this very same day, Pedro was there with a young lady he had recently started dating. Both were standing watching the giraffes when Luis turned in Pedro’s direction. Luis simply nodded saying, “Buenos Tardes” (Good Afternoon), not recognizing the man he had robbed, and walked away with his family. Pedro stood there in shock. Here was the face of the man he would never forget, the man who had taken away his feeling of security. Making excuses to his date, he managed to follow Luis and his family until they exited and got into Luis’s cab to go home. Pedro memorized the license number and then caught a cab to take his date home.

That night all Pedro could think of was vengeance. He wanted the man humiliated, thoughts of how, where and when he would do this pervaded his thoughts. He wanted him to lose what he had. Consumed with hate, he started planning his revenge.

A few days later having found out the information he needed, Pedro set his plan into motion late one evening. Then, the next morning he woke up on his bed fully clothed. He was groggy and had no memory of the previous night. Looking down he saw that his clothes and hands were covered in a red sticky substance with a sickly sweet smell. It was blood. “Oh my God.” He thought to himself, “What have I done?” Then images flooded into his mind; the face of the man who had robbed him, blood flowing from his stomach. He saw the frightened face of a young boy and heard the screams of a woman. Running, running, running and then nothing.

He rushed to the bathroom, stripping his clothes as he went. Jumping into the shower, he tried to scrub the blood from his hands. It wouldn’t come off, no matter how hard he washed them. He slid down the shower wall and sat on the floor staring at his bloodied hands, saying to himself over and over, “What have I done, what have I done, what have I done?”

In Surquillo a young boy lay huddled under his covers, the nightmare of the previous night playing over and over in his mind. The face of the man who had murdered his loving father would never be forgotten.

Reviews

[dcbarnes]

This is an interesting story. I enjoyed the transition from Pedro being the more successful, stable character to Luis having the better life.

I would only suggest (and I am by no means an expert) you somehow fit the word translations in some other way. It is somewhat disruptive of the flow to have them just come in parentheses after the word.

I enjoyed the twists of this story!