“I’m going to call him,” Mateo announced as soon as he awoke, and Lorenza thought that this time he was really going through with it. “Where is it!” he screamed, suddenly giving his mother a horrified look.“Where is what, for God’s sake? Why do you get all worked up like this?”“The notebook, Lorenza,” Mateo declared in a lugubrious tone. “The notebook where I wrote down what I was going to say.” He fell back on the sofa, defeated, and she started to look for it. In a few minutes, she discovered ...it, mixed up with some magazines.“You found it?” he asked surprised, as if a miracle had just occurred. “Ramón Iribarren, I am your son, Mateo Iribarren. I have come to Buenos Aires to meet you,” he read in a loud voice for the thousandth time since they had arrived. He knew the passage by heart, but kept repeating it nevertheless, like a mantra, like a spell. Lorenza had been watching him closely. Her son was readying himself for the encounter with his father as if it were a ceremony.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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