The War

“Excuse me, did you happen to see the psychiatrist?”

“I think so, she’s the tall one, right?”

“Yes.”

“She went that way.”, Charo points.

“Thanks”, the secretary takes a couple of steps, and then walks back to her. “Sorry, I didn’t even greet you. We’re a bit busy now, but I’m assuming you’re here for an appointment. First time?”

“Oh, no, no, I’m just here for…” she gestures towards the door near her.

The secretary looks at the door, remembering the patient inside and breathes in between her teeth. “Mr. Victor is a regular patient here… He’s a good person, I’m sorry about what happened at the event.” She sighs and then looks at the other girl, “You’re not from here, right?”

Charo nods, “I’ve been to the north before, but it’s my first time here in Guayaquil.”

“I hope you have a great time in the city, then.” With a smile, she goes on her way.

It’s been a while now, and Charo always tries to be there for everybody, even those she doesn’t know well. She thinks back and finds it painfully ironic that from all the things she thought could go wrong with her own speech at the event, she never expected that a guest would have a psychotic crisis. She feels really sorry for that, and even more for the fact that she couldn’t do anything— Matty was asleep at the time, and she would’ve asked him for help if she could, no matter how much she feels like she bothers him.

Truth be told, she doesn’t even have to be there anymore. She knows the man is stable now, with his only relative talking to him behind that door.

Knowing he only has his mother in the world is extremely sad to Charo, and Mr. Victor is the type of people she works so hard to help everyday, she wishes she could do much more. Maybe she doesn’t have a lot in her power to help him, but at least she wants to take some of her time to let him know he’s supported by this stranger who cares.

She’s also nervous because she’s not familiarized with these spaces. In fact, she knows it’s possible that they won’t let her speak to him because she’s not even an acquaintance… But at least she can sit and wait for that notice. She won’t give up so easily.

A couple of minutes later, an old lady opens the door ever so slightly, takes a good glance at Charo, and closes the door again.

More minutes later, the door opens.

The old lady— who gives off a first impression that she definitely should be using a cane but isn’t— approaches Charo.

“It’s been a long, long time since anybody stayed to see him.” Her stern glance turns softer, “I’m Beatriz Caballero, Victor’s mother.”

“I-it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Cha- I mean, Rosario… Rosario Rivera.” She replies with the same formality and her full name, not very sure why.

Charo can tell Beatriz is rather grumpy most of the time. It has to do with the wrinkles on her forehead, her stance and her tone of voice. She’s the type of old woman that makes Charo a little nervous in general, and yet she can tell this mother loves her son, no matter how tough things can get, and genuinely appreciates that Charo stayed all this time.

And Beatriz smiles so slightly, “Nice to meet you too. Do you want to come in?”

“Of course.”

_______

Charo learned that Victor Caballero was a cadet of the Ecuadorian militia, but he had many episodes and mental detriment during his training. It got to the point where he wasn’t stable, he even spoke and wrote unintelligible words, and sometimes even mumbled those words to himself, alone. When he could speak Spanish, he kept mentioning a war.

“’A war, a war’, but Victor has never been in one.”

“Mom…” Victor complains and speaks for the first time in front of Charo. It’s interesting to see a forty—something man use that tone towards his mother, almost like a teenager. “It did happen, I was there.”

“So what happened to your dad then?” Beatriz replies, cutting, almost with the intention of pulling his ear. “You always forget what the psychiatrists tell you, don’t you? You changed one event for the other, in your head.”

When Charo looks at Victor, she can sense he’s not calm at all, and that he dislikes the topic. It seems like they have this argument all the time, and Victor is more tired of his mother’s stubbornness. Charo isn’t sure what to believe, but she can tell Victor cares about what he says.

“It wasn’t like that…” Victor insists, still slightly upset. He looks up to meet Charo’s gaze for a second, for the first time, and only very quickly. Looks like he’s extremely uncomfortable with visual contact, and yet something about Charo caught his attention.

After that, Beatriz spoke most of the time. She thanked Charo just for being there, for listening, for caring. And they parted ways.

This was all a bit more stressful than expected for Charo, and it was because of the tension that Beatriz built speaking over Victor all the time, generally leading the conversation and invalidating almost everything her son thought to be true. It would make sense, if psychiatrists told her that’s what was happening, and it makes sense that she doesn’t trust him. But still, something doesn’t feel quite right.

On her way to her temporary lodging before she travels back to Venezuela, Charo kept thinking about it. About the alleged war.

She has read about historical South American conflicts— many of them— and still isn’t sure that the time frame in which he claims to have lived a war coincides with anything that happened in Ecuador at the time. And yet…

“It wasn’t like that.” She hears in her mind, Victor’s voice. He’s in front of her.

Even if she wants to scream in the middle of the sidewalk, she’s just startled for a second, because she’s had this feeling before, the feeling of having a guest in your own mind.

Victor approaches her, he’s not real, he’s not really there but it’s a psychic link, the one Charo is more and more familiar with everyday.

It’s not a threat, it’s a cry for help.

He places his hands on her shoulders, eye contact made much easier. “I was there with her, in Lebanon. I felt how she died.”