The Complete Men School. Herlander Elias
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A School where they all learn with their colleagues and teach what is relevant for the conduct promoted in the institution. One cannot find odd the fact of how Schools become colleges, very organized ones, where upstanding men, each with a style of its own has a specific signature in terms of dress code and haircuts. Every Complete Men preserve their inner identity, even the ones at the ‘process’ of learning. There is no homogenous thing in that sense, for it would be a manner of repressing the students who attend to The Schools. Each School in itself already has a righteous look, a diplomatic ambience. The most interesting is that the students are valid to speak about just anything despite it sometimes resembles to a code. Unlike military institutions, which repress the recruits so they could unleash tension on the battlefield, the Complete Men Schools invest on courage, in the good will and in arguing techniques as the best play. That was one of the premises to persuade the Other. For them, to know the true nature of the Man was the basis for all higher education. Being a social diplomat was a humanist demand based on attention, wisdom and gratitude. Nearly every common person is ungrateful, frankly ungrateful. To acknowledge the strength of the many is not to be compliant but to be superior, instead.”
After reading these last lines, considering that the rest of the notes was all about just tables, charts, numbered tasks and lists of names with attributed codes, Rafael decided to go home where he took a shower. He had some tagliatellefor dinner and then went to a bistrotwhere he asked for an old cognac with an extremely mellow scent. He stopped a bit to think on that moment. He recalled that he had to call Sylvie to ask her how was going her day at the job, and then after smoking some Davidoffs and exchanging words with the bartender he commuted to get to the newspaper building. He paid the taxi driver some bucks he had on the pockets.
Now, at nighttime, one could stare at the neon letter sign on the 49thfloor of the skyscraper. It was on that floor that Roberta’s office was, and where Paulo Renato would be expecting him. The dark blue building with purple shades reflected the landscape in glassy stripes. It was a post-modernist symbol of reflective glass, touching the clouds high in this part of city the center.
— Good evening. Mr. Paulo is arriving — said the receptionist announcing that Paulo Renato was on his way to meet him —You can go up. You are Mr.Rafael Sterling, aren’t you? — asked the woman arching the bright lipstick-lips, as bright as the eyes half-hidden behind the Prada’s brand mark glasses.
— Yes, it is I. — he answered still tense, returning the formal smile.
— Well, he his waiting for you.
— Thank you. — he replied to the receptionist.
As Rafael crossed the office, he thoroughly observed each person getting on the elevator, trying to grasp who might be involved with the Complete Men School. Journalists, accountants, administration staff, managers, secretaries, everyone could be potentially Complete ones. The thing is that they still did not know it yet, thought Rafael. This was the way things were.
“After all how could we identify people?” he said to himself as he advanced. “My God, I seem one of the Complete ones thinking…”— he said lowering his voice when one of the people on the elevator observed him involuntarily, yet with eyes for specific details. Rafael passed his hands through his hair in an attempt to become calm which through that gesture he marked his hairlines. One woman wearing a tailleurstared at him with joy. He did not return back such charming smile because his girlfriend, Sylvie, came to his mind.
As he reached the 49thfloor, Paulo Renato greeted him and told that the pictures were already processed and that the only thing missing was to order a print of what the software had handled. They both sat down and leaned forward, looking at the black and white pictures, which by now seemed clearer. One could easily observe the faces, by the way, with perfect clarity. The software Renato used performed wonders for Rafael’s cause and the latter could not drive his eyes of the pictures.
— Rafael, as you may see, the photos are now in a much higher quality. I am a genius, right? stated Paulo in an arrogant, yet friendly tone.
— It is true that…— before Renato continued Rafael interrupted him asking him to examine a photo where the people in the picture are three men talking in a street. Someone from a flat in front must have taken these photos.
— This one is excellent.
— Yes, it is.
— Can we increase the billboard of advertising?
— Yes.
— Great! — said Rafael in a higher tone, while smiling. In the picture, the three men were having a relaxed chat, all wearing shades. They were meeting next to a newspaper stand. In the commercial billboard that sided the stand, the commercial promoted the movie Gattacaand it was mentioned that the premiere was due to January 2002.
— I did not see this one coming. — assumed Rafael surprised, while grabbing the metal square of his belt.
— What? — replied Renato like the one got stuck adrift in space.
— Nothing, nothing. Please print this picture for me.
— I’ll do it. And what about the other ones?
— Show me the one in which a group is performing a sort of a dancing scene in the alley.
— This one? — asked Renato waiting for confirmation.
— Yes!
Renato enhanced the image. He saw someone in the photo grabbing a business card and handing it to a second person.
— Please, enhance this area, just the part of the card.
— This one?
— Yes. — Rafael did not know what to say. One could read well the data on the business card of the individual wearing an overcoat. And in the card it was written:
Franscisco Madsen
Legal Adviser
Thinkers of the Lights, Avenue, 1s front.
1005353 CBR Beautiful City
Rafael was astonished. Finally, he got access to fine decent photos. He had a contact. And all of this thanks to Paulo Renato. Rafael thanked him, leaving a ticket to him for attending a music concert by Idoru Seithat he had received in order to write a minor review about it. Since he was not interested in attending to this concert, he offered the ticket to Renato who well deserved it.
— I do not know what to say! — Renato was surprised.
— So am I! — replied Rafael as he retrieved the photos already printed from the video-printer, smiling a lot.
On his way out, Rafael bumped against a blond platinum bright hair woman. He rushed to say he was sorry and used the opportunity to greet her by saying: — By the way, the outfit you wear is a killer outfit. You are just too much. Have a nice day! — Rafael expressed his apologies to her. While he was exiting the building, he realized that he and Renato had spent hours and hours at The Autonomous Zone, speaking and having coffee. However, the best part is that they had achieved some fine results. Rafael was thrilled with the progress. He fell asleep in the living room couch with the notebook of the Complete ones on his belly. The TV was still on running MTV video clips along with static interference, and his ashtray was so full of cigarettes butts that it seemed to be a post-modern sculpture installation. He woke up just in the middle of the afternoon with an orange light casting stripes on the sleepy face full of marks due to the sofa texture.
He rushed to the bathroom, shaved his face and took a shower. He kept a lot of time chatting with Sylvie on the phone. Although he was impatient that his mind was whirling thoughts and images like a washing machine centrifuge, even so he managed to be sweet and polite with her. He knew that if all went well with this report, he could travel with her and go on a cruise ship to the Greek islands in August. Crete was the passion of the century in his own imaginary. He received telepathic invitations about it often. During the phone call, he had with his girlfriend a photo from the leather case fell on the floor. The image was the one Paulo Renato enhanced from the frame of the business card in the hand of