Lealtad
Synopsis
In the novel Lealtad, a work of experimental literary fiction, author Jorge San Martin Zambrano weaves a story within a story, challenging readers to question what’s real and what’s fictional, bend their perceptions of time, and follow two stories to their very different endings.
Protagonist Andrew Joseph works for the cleaning department of the university where he’s studying creative writing. After being attacked by his boss, Jack Bennett, Andrew struggles with whether to exact bloody vengeance or to forgive him, earning himself the nickname Yoyo. Perico, Andrew’s loyal friend and colleague, believes violent retribution is the only course of action—and he’s more than willing to do the dirty work.
Having received a diagnosis that leaves him unsure of how much time he has left, Andrew decides to write a story about his experience, hoping that justice will unfold accordingly if Bennett ends up reading it and recognizing himself. He also soon finds himself on a mission to avert the murder of Bennett at the hands of Perico. The lines between fiction and reality begin to blur as Andrew’s attempts at preventing Bennett’s murder play out both on the page and in his reality.
The narrative glue of Lealtad is comprised of the interactions between Andrew and his writing professor, Professor Levine, who suspects that the story isn’t entirely fictional. He’s tasked Andrew with crafting two endings, so that he might fully explore the ideas of fairness and free will.
When Perico dies unexpectedly, Andrew is forced to consider what this means for his story. He knows he must dig deeper into the idea of forgiveness and look directly at his painful past. And he knows he must weave this past into the narrative as well.
Then he meets Bellatrix, Perico’s mysterious long-lost daughter, who moonlights as a contract killer and inspires Andrew to consider yet another direction for his story.
As he writes, Andrew is taken on a journey of healing that requires him to reflect on his definition of loyalty. He’s also forced to confront the reality of free will, a tricky gift that leaves Andrew with an ending he never could have expected.
Ultimately, Lealtad is a story of empowerment. It encourages both Andrew and his readers to examine what it means to be human and flawed.
Excerpts
Chapter 1
Perico’s eyes blazed with anger. “I told him, ‘You got the wrong person, Mr. Bennett. The rats are in the dumpster.’”
“Just like that?” I asked.
“Yeah, just like that. And I knew the price of not betraying you would be steep. He’s been giving me extra assignments, calling me a piece of shit every chance he gets. But I’m your friend. That’s why I’m so fucking upset with you. You don’t know the difference between your friends and enemies.”
He punched his palm. “Bennett thinks he can get me fired, and then you’ll be all alone.”
I hung my head, feeling as if a heavy weight had leveled a blow to my gut. Bennett consistently tried to discredit me so that no one would believe me if I spoke out about the attack. Bennett’s request to Perico meant that my assumptions were correct. And now he was making my friend’s life harder, too.
“And you tell me to give that prick a chance,” Perico continued. “I’ll give him a chance, all right. I’ll give him a chance to jump off the roof straight into the deepest part of hell. He’ll fit right in. No problem, baby. Best Manager. That’ll be the tag on his office’s door in hell.”
I met his gaze to find his eyes filled with tears. In all the time I’d known him, I’d never seen Perico cry—and his repertoire of horrible acts was extensive.
“Life was simpler before I met you,” he said. Then he whispered, “Somebody tried to do that to me as a teenager. I took my time with him. Four days. Four long days.” He didn’t sound proud.
Of course, I was foolish for wanting to save his life. But there was something redeemable in everyone, wasn’t there? And deep in my heart, I felt that the burden of Bennett’s death would be worse than the one I’d been wrestling with ever since he summoned me into that basement.
Perico walked toward the window, then faced me in the part of the room where the bulb’s electric light appeared tired. He looked like a menacing ghost, his face moving in and out of shadows as cars with bright headlights drove by the building.
“I vomited, man,” Perico said. “When Bennett told me what he did to you. He told me on the fucking roof. Our place.” Without warning, he swung around and punched the wall. He appeared not to notice the enormous hole he created.
“He just wants us to feel desperate,” I said, shaking my head.
“He thinks nobody can touch him.”
“But murder? C’mon, man.”
I looked at the bullets. They lured me to smooch them.
Perico sat down next to me again. His eyes were barren, glassy. “He’s gotta fly from the roof. Either he jumps off or I put two in him—one in the crotch and one in his face. In that order. I don’t care if I go back to jail. I’ll never see my baby again anyway.”
Before I could ask him who this “baby” was, he snatched the bullets from my hand, loaded the weapon, and struck the cylinder with his left hand.
The rattling had hypnotic elegance. The mechanical sound of the cylinder finding its chamber soothed my ears like a drug traveling through my veins. But the words that emerged from my mouth contradicted my feelings.
“It’s not that simple,” I said. “You can’t go popping people because they wronged you. Don’t you understand that I’m trying to heal from this? I have to forgive him.” I let my head fall back and stared at the cracked ceiling. “If I don’t, the guilt will trap me for eternity.”
Do you want me to end up like you? I almost asked. But I bit my tongue. I didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t deserve that.
I gasped as Perico lifted me off the couch, shook me by the shoulders with his colossal hands, and threw me back onto the sofa with all his might. I landed with an enormous thump. He got up close to my face. The whole scene brought to memory his time as a bouncer. The stories had been wild and riveting when we sat on the roof, seeing the boats pass. But this time, I was the story.
“Forgive him?” he screamed. “Either you’re out of your mind or not telling me the full story.”
Chapter 4
The memory made me smile. In the hospital room, the lights were now off, making it harder to distinguish the real from the surreal.
The preacher composed himself in the face of my impertinence and asked, “Do you want to say words for your friend?”
Just then, a huge raven landed on your casket and started pecking at the rose next to the cross. It sang a cutting lament, and Hercules barked in response. You should have seen them. But I shushed Hercules when I noticed the preacher’s face was redder than hell.
“Mr. Joseph?” the preacher asked, eyeing Hercules while his mouth contorted.
“Okay, Father. Here I go. And don’t forget, you asked.”
He nodded with pursed lips.
“Perico, my terrifying but loyal friend, I always wanted to give you a profound answer—to convince you that eliminating a person never solves the problem. I had to contemplate the atrocity inside me, and then I would leave it behind when the time was right. No bullets. A bullet pierces and destroys. But the mess inside the one firing the gun doesn’t go anywhere. It rots. Like your leg did.”
Hercules chased the raven, which now had the rose in its beak, to a nearby tree, where it taunted my canine.
The cleric looked to heaven. Yes, he did, and then he spoke between his teeth. “This eulogy is way off-script. Way off, Mr. Joseph.”
I heard people running in the hallway.
“Code blue,” a voice said.
I returned to the bed and kept going.
“How’s healing going to arrive otherwise? I had to clean the wound spiritually. I mean, not me, but God.” I looked at the preacher, hoping he’d agree with a sympathetic nod. I needed somebody to lean on. Instead, he gave me a look that suggested I didn’t know what I was talking about.
I looked back at the casket, my face flushed with anger—I heard the monitor beeping like a metronome. Steady. Draconian. The only sign that life was still there within my friend.
“You complicated the whole thing, Perico. I know, I know. You thought you were making things right with your proposal to make Bennett fly. But you incited a war within me. Well, maybe that’s not fair to you. The battle raged before you ever knew about Bennett’s attack. My problem is that I don’t know evil as you do. I’m not saying that there isn’t malice in me. But the truth is, I don’t understand Bennett. Maybe if I understood the reasons behind his behavior, it would be okay to let him fly. Don’t you think, Reverend?”
I had other words to say, but they dried up in my mouth. They felt like sandpaper over my tongue. I burped. The smell of rancid beer floated into the room like a cloud.
Perico made a noise and grimaced slightly. The IV dripped steadily.
“I hate you, big man. All those muscles and you couldn’t stay alive a little longer?”
The preacher gave me a look of reproach now. Yeah, the nerve of him, but I charged ahead, standing on a barren prairie with no trees to hide me except the one where the raven perched.
The soft tapping on the preacher’s leg was constant.
“Who’s going to protect me now? Well, you didn’t save me the first time, either. But it feels different knowing you’re not there to grab the asshole by the neck and toss him over the ledge if I need you to do it. You know?”