Chapter 13
Venerable Master Gaetano Olderisi of the Garibaldi Lodge rapped his gavel to call for the attention of the Brothers crowded into the small temple of the Scottish Rite Center. “Brothers, help me in opening the Lodge,” he said as he began reciting the Emulation ritual in Italian. The ritual consisted of a memorized exchange of dialogue with the Senior and Junior Wardens and with the Inner Guard and Tyler.
Once the Lodge was opened at the Entered Apprentice level, Worshipful Master Olderisi asked the secretary, who was seated to his left, if there was anything he wanted to share. Secretary Oreste Balducci stood up, made the sign of penalty and said, “Worshipful Master, we have two candidate applications accompanied by their inquiry commission reports. Of greater importance, however, is the need for the Lodge to examine and discuss the issue of a lack of insufficient Brotherhood participation in our labors.”
The Worshipful Master signed and replied, “Dearest Brothers. This is a very delicate matter. The moment has come to take a decision in the best interests of our Body now that we have been in existence for over ten years. The main concern of the Grand Masters who have governed our Grand Lodge has been, and still is, to stop spurious infiltrations into the bilingual lodges established over the past twenty years in Washington DC. Together with the Council of Lights, which includes the Senior and Junior Wardens and the secretary, we have decided to undertake a close screening of our membership. We have a number of Brothers, many residing in Italy, who after rising through the degrees of Entered Apprentice, Fellow Craft and Master Mason have completely disappeared from sight. Let’s speak frankly, dear Brothers. Many of these members have shown by their behavior that their sole interest in Freemasonry was the desire to be able to claim membership in our Lodge. They do not reply to our solicitations, they do not confirm their addresses, and they do not participate in the work of other Lodges. I open the discussion on the matter.”
The Brothers took turns in raising their hands. At first they spoke hesitantly, but then they participated vigorously in the discussion. Worshipful Master Olderisi cautioned the speakers to be tolerant of each other’s opinions, listened carefully and acted as moderator. The meeting then passed on to consideration of various administrative matters presented by the secretary after which the Worshipful Master brought it to a close with a ritual tap of his gavel and sent everyone home. He alone would make any final decision. After all, while it is good and fine to listen to other opinions, the last word belonged to the head of the Lodge as the ultimate authority.
The Venerable Master had to admit that many of the comments presented made a lot of sense. They were the same issues impacting other organizations, such as the Rotary – despite the fact that they were not in any way affiliated.
“Basically,” Olderisi concluded, “if we do not offer some kind of benefit the end result will be a constant loss of members. We lack appeal and are paying for it. In Lodges throughout the world talking about politics and religion is forbidden. But life is based on politics and religious conflict. Everything is political, from atmospheric pollution to global warming, water and energy scarcity, cultural clashes, worldwide economic crises, drugs, and education. Everything is political. And we expect to keep the profane world at bay to safeguard the tranquility and survival of our Lodges. It’s a worthy principle, but we cannot ignore what is happening around us. George Washington and the Founding Fathers were Freemasons and they knew where they wanted to go. They were visionaries and their vision of the future might have seemed an impossible dream. They were fighting against the most powerful empire in the world. And yet they succeeded. And the men who led and those who fought for the Risorgimento in Italy were Brothers but they were also political. Their goal was to unify Italy and liberate it from foreign oppression. Many died, but in the end they too succeeded. So, we must not partake in partisan politics at the Lodge. But we can deal with everyday political issues. We must do this to capture the interest of the youth and give an incentive to act appropriately in the profane world. We must do more to attract Brothers, especially the talented ones, who do not come to our meetings because they consider them a waste of time.”
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Chapter 14
The Falcon landed at the General Juan N. Alvarez International Airport and taxied towards the private aviation section. A black SUV was waiting on the tarmac. It was a VIP special edition car: armored, bulletproof windows, extra strength tire, custom breaks and super turbo engine. Once completely outfitted it cost as much as a Ferrari. The American company that retrofitted the SUV also provided special driving courses for chauffeurs. Among other things, the drivers learned how to get through roadblocks and ambushes by folks armed with machine guns – not an easy feat when at the wheel of a very heavy car. Who bought these cars? Politicians, CEOs and drug traffickers. Often all rolled into one.
The Hon. Edmundo Gutierrez quickly descended the plane ramp and got into his SUV, all the while holding a black leather briefcase close to his chest.
“Sweetheart, how are you?” he whispered into his cell phone.
“Oh, Edmundo you are back. I feel much better. It was a case of, you know, female trouble. I am happy you are here.”
“Do you feel up to dinner? I don’t want to impose on you if you are still under the weather, honey.”
Olivia reassured him all was fine. Once he had showered and relaxed they would meet in the private Quetzalcoal room at 9 p.m. Olivia was wearing a Balenciaga long gown that showcased her voluptuous figure. Its low cut barely covered the nipples of her full cleavage. The gown’s bare back extended below her waistline.
She approached Gutierrez who was seated at his reserved table in the famous restaurant. She kissed him on the cheek and sat down in front of him. He gazed at her in ecstasy.
“I ordered shrimp cocktail for you too. I hope that’s all right. Then we will have fresh bass.”
Olivia replied with a smile that emphasized her dimples.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how did your trip to Mexico City go?” she asked while sipping on a flute of vintage Veuve Cliquot Brut champagne.
Edmundo Gutierrez raised his champagne glass to Olivia’s.
“We have no secrets, my love. I think my private meeting with the President went very well. He needs someone like me by his side after all the negative experience he’s had with other party members. The President needs a small circle of trusted allies. He said this with great sincerity. We also discussed what has to be done during the remaining years of his mandate because, as you well know, presidents cannot be re-elected in Mexico – unlike in other countries such as the U.S.”
They sipped their champagne and started in on the shrimp cocktail.
“I am happy to hear this. The President has finally realized how important it is to have someone with your experience at his side.”
Edmundo Gutierrez gazed upon Olivia’s face, with her green eyes that seemed to change color depending on her mood.
“God, you are so lovely!” he said. “Tell me about your day. What did you do?”
“Nothing special. I spent a few hours at the pool. Then I took a long walk along the beach. The waves were strong – you had to be careful not to get swept into the water. Then I came back, took a shower, and started reading.”
“What were you reading, sweetheart?”
“Don’t laugh. I’m reading the Koran. I want to try and understand why almost two billion people are Muslims even though the Prophet Mohammed preached five centuries after Christ.”
“I’m pleased you are trying to learn more about this religion that seems so antithetical to Christianity. You can be my adviser on matters of faith. Listen, Olivia. How about stopping at Quebrada after dinner to see that last diving show? Feel like it?”
Olivia replied that it had been years since she had seen the divers.
The attentive waiter served the bass with a side of string beans and roast potatoes.
The SUV zoomed across Acapulco thanks in part to the yellow flashing light the driver had placed on the dash. The American tourists who dared set foot on the pedestrian crossings had to leap backwards to avoid being mowed down. In Mexico no one respected traffic rules. It was a case of survival of the fittest and the black armored SUV and its cross-country escort vehicle were prime examples.
Gutierrez’s three bodyguards pushed their way through the hundreds of spectators on the terrace. They were all there to watch the high cliff divers.
Olivia and her elderly lover moved to a spot reserved for them. The tourists were held at bay. The Spanish word Quebrada means ravine. In Acapulco it is a cleft in the coastline. La Quebrada cliff divers calculate the exact moment to catch an incoming wave and launch themselves from heights of up to of 125 feet into the sea in exchange for the proceeds from the sale of tickets and tips.
Before diving they make the Sign of the Cross. The youngest divers had already taken their turn under the bright lights. Their tan bodies in skimpy bathing suits were a cause for much admiration on the part of the female audience.
The last dive was from 125 feet and that evening the chosen one was the famous Balboa. The spotlights focused on this small, compact body. Every evening, together with his colleagues, he risked his life for a few dollars. Since its founding in 1934 to stop the exploitation of young divers, there had been several dozen fatalities among the Quebrada Cliff divers.
Balboa adjusted his red bathing suit as he positioned himself on the rocky cliff. He waved at the spectators to elicit the thunderous applause that erupted. After making the Sign of the Cross, he paused for a few seconds and then took an angel dive off the cliff.
The tourists’ video cameras followed him all the way down into the water. Balboa then re-emerged to another round of applause from the tourists as they began leaving. He climbed up the rocks to where the spot where Olivia and Edmundo had been watching. Olivia clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Bravo!” “Thank you, señorita” he replied.
“Let’s go see where they dive,” said Edmundo and they walked towards the steps that led to the diving platform.
The tourists and divers by now had all left La Quebrada. The next day the divers would be back and would have to deal with rough seas, but the Madonna of Guadalupe would protect them.
Edmundo Gutierrez took Olivia by the hand and led her to the edge of the cliff from where Balboa had taken his dive.
“Edmundo, please. You know I am afraid of heights. Let’s go back.”
They turned, sat on some plastic chairs and gazed at the lovely moonlight and its reflection on the water.
“What a fantastic night!” said Edmundo.
A bottle of Moët Chandon in an ice bucket had been placed on a nearby table.
“Let’s drink to our love.”
He poured champagne into two flutes and handed one to Olivia who was watching the waves enter and retreat from the ravine. Then he poured a second glass. Olivia politely tried to beg off.
“Edmundo, do you want to make me tipsy? You know I can’t handle alcohol.”
“Listen, Olivia. This is a special evening for us. No ifs or buts. Please do as I ask, my love.”
Then Edmundo took a silver case from an inside jacket pocket and placed it on the table. He opened it, tapped out two lines of cocaine and using his own personal silver straw snorted one up.
“Now it’s your turn, Olivia,” he said handing her the silver straw.
“Edmundo, you know I detoxed at that clinic in New Mexico. I can’t. Believe me.”
“Tonight you must. I am ordering you.” Gutierrez’s voice had taken on a sudden threatening tone. His fierce expression convinced Olivia to take the straw and snort up the line of cocaine. Then she relaxed back in her chair and drank a third glass of champagne Edmundo had poured for her. During the next few minutes of silence the alcohol and drug took effect. The only sound was that of the rising waves on the rocks. Gutierrez signaled to his assistant who brought over a DVD player.
“Olivia, put on these headphones. I want to show you something interesting.”
The young woman looked at him in surprise, while rubbing her nose. On the small screen were images of Olivia and Michael engaged in passionate sex.
The next morning the El Sol de Acapulco newspaper front page had a story on the decapitation of seven drug dealers committed by a rival gang.
An inside page had a piece on a young American tourist who had fallen into La Quebrada after the diving show had ended. The police account, based on the medical examiner’s report, was that she must have lost her balance due to over consumption of alcohol and drugs.
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Copyright © 2012 by Oscar Bartoli
New Academia Publishing/SCARITH Books, 2013
Translated from W.D.C. Sotto traccia, © 2012, Betti Editrice Translator, Maria Enrico
All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Control Number:
2013930329 ISBN 978-0-9860216-8-8 paperback (alk. paper)All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
An imprint of New Academia Publishing P.O. Box 27420, Washington, DC 20038-7420
info@newacademia.com www.newacademia.com
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