© 1990 by Daniel San Martín
Translated by Graciela De Sande

I met her in the downtown area. She was dressing ghastly, but I found her attractive. It was a day of February at three o'clock in the afternoon, with the heat and humidity that government changes cannot modify in Buenos Aires. Two months following the terms agreed upon, I had succeeded to receive my fees for a number of works that I had performed for a cosmetics company. Typically, with that money I would have made a living for more than a month, but I met her that day. She was buying cigarettes, poking about her messy bag for the bills she needed to pay. She looked as if she was striving for resembling a nightclub girl, even though, it was obvious, at the same time, that she was not so. I felt attracted by this ambiguity; and not only by that: she looked like fifteen. I stood there looking at her, serious and speechless. When she realized, she felt disturbed and started walking in the opposite direction. I caught her up and walked at the same time with her, staring at her quite blatantly and openly for almost a whole block, up until she stopped.

-What is happening to you! -she told me.

I didn't answer. I was surprised because she addressed to me in a formal way, with a formal Spanish pronoun... and I would have also been shocked if she hadn't addressed to me in that way.

-What is happening with you! -she repeated-. Why are you looking at me?

-For nothing.

-So why are you looking at me!

-I'm looking at you because you are very nice -I told her.

She tried to answer but she couldn't, and went on walking with those shoes that she didn't know how to control.

-Where are you coming from? -I asked her.

-From an interview -she answered without even looking at me.

-An employment interview?

-Yes, an employment interview.

-And did you get the job?

She didn't answer.

-Are you in a hurry now?

She went on walking and fixed her gaze on the horizon, as if she were a tightrope walker walking on her high heels.

-It's warm -I told her- wouldn't you like to have a refreshment?

Once again, she didn't reply.

-Let's have lunch together! I still haven't had anything and it's for sure that you haven't had anything either.

With these words I could persuade her to look at me.

-OK -she said, after some doubting.

I set off for a non-magnificent restaurant, so that she might not feel uncomfortable, but for a restaurant which was good enough to make a very good impression on her. Anyway, we didn't arrive there, as when we were walking past a Pumper, she shyly but insistently suggested to have some hamburgers there. When we were sitting there, I asked her:

-Did you get the job?

-What?

-At the employment interview, did you get the job?

-No, I didn't. They didn't even take my personal data down.

-Why?

-Because of my age, obviously! And after I lied a little bit, I usually say that I'm sixteen; if I say that I'm eighteen, it's for sure that they will ask me to show my I.D.

-And how old are you?

-I'm twelve. How old did you think that I was?

Fifteen, I would have said. But I wasn't feeling like saying, but as knowing. I was interested to know some things, not very many, just the ones I needed to have an image of her and ask no more questions. I found out that she had left her home that very dawn, a story as many others and to which I didn't pay much attention. She had no place to go. She had spent her last cents in that pack of cigarettes. She thought that she would seem older if she smoked. Once I knew what was interesting to me, I stopped asking questions, and she started. I lied all the time, except about my profession, my first name and, of course, my face. I said that I lived in Rosario, that I was in Buenos Aires for working reasons and that I would be leaving in a few days.

-Are you staying at a hotel?

-Not yet, I have to look for one.

-And your luggage? Don't you have any luggage?

-Huh?... no, I don't, because I was intending to buy some new clothes, this is why I brought no luggage.

-But you need a bag all the same to carry your new clothes!

-Yes, you're right, I should have brought a bag. Then I shall not only buy some new clothes, but also a bag!

-You have money, don't you?

It was funny to find out that she had become excited at the thought that she was with a very important person. She was shocked at my working in advertising, she felt that being with me was like being with a TV actor or something like that. She was delighted with the word packaging and tried to use it no matter what. She even went as far as to ask a kiosk attendant for a "a packaging of Melba cookies, please". She was so charmingly ridiculous that I was just falling in love with her. After that first lunch, we went to buy some new clothes together, and when the night fell, she reminded me that I had to look for a hotel.

-And what about you? -I asked her.

Of course, she didn't know. I told her that she could stay with me while I was in Buenos Aires. She didn't answer. We kept walking in silence as far as we reached a hotel. I didn't ask her what she had decided and asked for a room "for me and my daughter". I gave fake information and signed. We entered a room and each of us left our things on a bed.

-Why didn't you give your name to the man downstairs?

She was serious, different from the way she had been looking when we had gone out shopping, she got on the defensive. I took her out of that room and went out for dinner, so that she might get used to the idea of sharing a room. Next morning we had breakfast together and separated, she went out to look for an employment and I, supposedly, to visit my colleagues and associates. What I did, in fact, was going to my apartment to work, and I couldn't draw a single line as I was thinking about her all the time. We met again at seven p.m. Of course, she was hunger and had got no employment at all. I felt powerful upon knowing that she was in that condition. I told her that we could go to the cinema and she asked:

-Can't we go later to the cinema?

That meant that we should eat first, but with time schedule excuses, I managed to extend dinner after the movies: the poor little thing starved for fourteen hours. I thought that after that dinner, she should feel more confident and thankful. When we arrived at the hotel, after dinner, I brushed her hair and told her to sleep with me. She didn't look shocked at my proposal. She lied down on my bed as naturally as her twelve years allowed for, wearing a panty and a T-shirt. I took off my clothes and her garment and underwear. I embraced her from behind and immediately came between her thighs. During my last spasms, I passionately spread my semen in her belly and vagina with my hand, but the moment I had finished, I felt sorry, guilty and, even though I felt very sorry for her, I hated her and found her sickening. I sent her to sleep to the other bed. When dawn was breaking, I saw her sleeping, still naked. I had a very strong erection. I started licking her from her waist up to her neck, so she stretched and lied on her front. I penetrated her slowly, as slowly as I could, but, all the same, she wept. I felt the same that I had felt the night before, but her weeping increased my disgust and hatred. I took a quick shower, dressed up, and had the door handle in my hand when I heard her saying, all curled up, from the bed:

-I'm sorry, this was the first time.

I left without saying a single word, and thought that I was not gonna see her any more, but I came back at two o'clock. She had left but her things were there, so I waited for her. She didn't take too long to arrive; she looked very happy.

-Did you find a job?

-No, I didn't, I didn't look for work today.

-You're glad.

-I was afraid that you might not be here.

-Shall we go out for lunch?

-I'm not feeling like eating, I've already had lunch with mom.

I remained in silence.

-When she saw me, she was very happy and cooked something for me -she kept on telling me-, but then she got angry because I had left. So I told her that I'm no little girl any more.

I held an exclamation that could have pulled down the whole building. I prevented her from panicking because I wanted to know everything, so I clenched my teeth and let her talk.

-And it was then when she broke up in tears, as she always does, and said that when she told daddy, he would shoot each of us dead.

-Didn't she give you a beating?

-No, she never beats, daddy is the one who beats at home.

-And then?

-Then she sat watching television while she cried and I came back here.

-Do they know where we are?

-I told her that we were staying at a hotel, but not which hotel; do not think that I am a fool.

I had to think, but I couldn't, I was fully seduced. My desire to make love to her was so strong and desperate as the rejection that I felt when I came. She let me do, as before, and then I left the hotel to see what I would do with a paranoia that had all of a sudden gone off as a fire alarm in my head. I walked for hours and decided, in the most absolute selfishness, how I could protect myself from the threats that I was exposed to as a result of this brief relationship. So I came back for her. We went to the cinema again and then we had dinner. When we were in the room, I cleaned all the places that I had touched with a handkerchief and was careful enough not to touch anything else but the blankets or the floor.

-Why did you clean everything? -she naively asked me.

She took out her clothes by herself. While under the command of passion, I doubted to do what I had thought, and I even believed that I was not going to do so, but, after ejaculating inside her, I reaffirmed myself on my plans. I waited for her to fall asleep, I dressed up to leave immediately and took the dropper with the acid. I thought it was right to start with her right eye, so I pulled up her eyelid and put in some drops. Before starting with her other eye, she had already sat up, desperately stamping her feet and grabbing her face. She made me drop the flask and the acid spilled over her thighs, and her groaning turned into crying. I was afraid and bit her to shut up, but she cried even more. Then I left running. The hotel manager was coming to see what was up. His small and shiny eyes showed me all the loose ends of my plan, and there more and more doors being opened by curious people around. So I desperately cried:

-A physician, a physician! My daughter! Someone's got to save her, a physician!

This was how I took to the street and ran for a taxi.