1971. A peaceful night in San Bavón, capital of Anchuria. Flora Pazos, diplomat. [[<div class="next" title="00:30" alt="00:00">->Flora 00:30]] Eutimio Rodríguez, writer [[<div class="next" title="00:30" alt="00:00">->Eutimio 00:30]] América Domínguez, tram driver Ramiro Díaz, factory worker René Matos, police officer07:30 [RADIO] “Dear people of Anchuria. Stay calm. There is nothing to worry about. We have had our differences with the military before and we always come to an agreement. Please join us today in the Plaza de la Libertad for what will undoubtedly become a celebration of our beautiful young democracy.”13:30 [RADIO] “Dear citizens of Anchuria. We will not surrender the power you have entrusted us with in democratic elections. Libertad o Muerte!”17:30 [RADIO] “The military has taken steps to overthrow the corrupt regime of Hermes Losada. I, Generalísimo Ricardo Miraflores, am proud to announce that today we have brought freedom to the people of Anchuria. As acting President I will continue the struggle to excise the Marxist cancer from the Anchurian body. Long live the republic!”18:00 The sun sets over <a href="end.html">San Bavón</a>.00:30 Just past midnight. Flora Pazos has made love. Ramiro Díaz is lying beside her, snoring like a big cat. [[<div class="next" title="01:00" alt="01:00">->Flora 01:00]]01:00 Ramiro Díaz dreams of darkness and emptiness. [[<div class="next" title="01:30" alt="01:30">->Ramiro 01:30]]00:30 “All right, all right, we're going!” Eutimio Rodríguez laughs as he exits the bar of the Hotel de los Estranjeros. The bar closes at midnight every night and without fault he is always among the guests who leave last. [[<div class="next" title="01:00" alt="01:00">->Eutimio 01:00]]01:00 She feels content. A warm breeze enters the room. All is quiet. A smile forms on the lips of [[*Ramiro Díaz*->Ramiro 01:00]]. [[<div class="next" title="01:30" alt="01:30">->Flora 01:30]]01:30 The sound of a helicopter flying much too low. Flora Pazos gets out of bed. [[<div class="next" title="02:00" alt="02:00">->Flora 02:00]]02:00 Under the open window, like every night around this time, when the pub closes, a small group passes by. [[*Eutimio Rodríguez*|Eutimio 02:00]] is among them. [[<div class="next" title="02:30" alt="02:30">->Flora 02:30]]02:30 As Flora Pazos goes back to bed, she notices the flickering lights of a police car on the walls of the buildings on the corner. [[<div class="next" title="03:00" alt="03:00">->Flora 03:00]]03:00 “I'm still not used to how friendly and helpful people are these days.” [[<div class="next" title="03:30" alt="03:30">->Flora 03:30]]03:30 “See. Now it's silent. Thank you, officer! Goodnight.” [[<div class="next" title="04:00" alt="04:00">->Flora 04:00]]04:00 Flora Pazos turns off the light and falls asleep. [[<div class="next" title="04:30" alt="04:30">->Flora 04:30]]04:30 “What was that?” Flora Pazos sits up in bed, awakened by what sounded like a gun shot. [[<div class="next" title="05:00" alt="05:00">->Flora 05:00]]05:00 “Ghosts from the past,” she mumbles and goes back to sleep. [[<div class="next" title="05:30" alt="05:30">->Flora 05:30]]05:30 It's still dark outside but from the tops of the trees, where they may already see the sun rise, birds are starting their morning serenade. [[<div class="next" title="06:00" alt="06:00">->Flora 06:00]]06:00 With a reliability that no lover can match, the first sun rays penetrate the apartment, stroking Flora Pazos' cheek. [[<div class="next" title="06:30" alt="06:30">->Flora 06:30]]06:30 Flora Pazos frowns. But she is not awake yet. She shivers in her sleep as the morning air touches the drops of sweat on her body. [[<div class="next" title="07:00" alt="07:00">->Flora 07:00]]07:00 The alarm clock of Flora Pazos buzzes. Without looking, she taps the snooze button, misses and the radio starts playing frantic merengue. Annoyed she looks up and just when she was about the switch off the [[*radio*->07:00]], the music stops abruptly and a newscaster begins an announcement. [[<div class="next" title="07:30" alt="07:30">->Flora 07:30]]07:30 “¡Joder!” Flora Pazos jumps out of bed and runs to the phone. “Hermes! Are you okay?” The man who is now president had been her life long friend. But nothing romantic ever happened. They just seem so busy all the time. “Oh. All right. I'll call again later.” She walks back to the [[*radio*->07:30]] and now the calming voice of president Hermes Losada was heard. The voice that won the elections, despite of the age-old distrust of communism among the population. [[<div class="next" title="08:00" alt="08:00">->Flora 08:00]]08:00 “Marina? I will be late today. I'm passing by the palace before I come.” Flora Pazos, putting on her shoes with one hand and pulling the spiral cord of the telephone with the other. “No, don't worry. I'll be fine.” Marina Iglesias was her secretary at the consulate. An elderly lady, scarred by the horrors of the time before democracy, never failing to maternally worry about her superior. [[<div class="next" title="08:30" alt="08:30">->Flora 08:30]]08:30 Many people have already gathered on the Plaza de la Libertad. It seems like everyone stands behind president Losada. A man of the people, a gentle man, with big plans, who managed to lift the net of fear that once covered Anchuria. [[<div class="next" title="09:00" alt="09:00">->Flora 09:00]]09:00 At first almost subsonic but growing with alarming certainty, a metallic rumbling approaches from the Calle de los Angeles. Tanks! An endless column of tanks crawls forward slowly. Gradually nothing else is heard but the maddening grinding of the caterpillar tracks on the asphalt. [[<div class="next" title="09:30" alt="09:30">->Flora 09:30]]09:30 Defiantly, Flora Pazos steps towards the Calle de los Angeles. She retreats to the sidewalk and hurries past the horrific parade, fixing her eyes straight ahead. Many people are standing outside of the small shops and bars along the street, curious, worried, silent. Several reporters are taking pictures. Maybe also of her. [[<div class="next" title="10:00" alt="10:00">->Flora 10:00]]10:00 Flora Pazos turns the corner of the Street of the Holy Sepulchre and starts running. She can't help it. Panic takes over. She knows the risk of drawing attention. But she cannot suppress the reflex in her body. [[<div class="next" title="10:30" alt="10:30">->Flora 10:30]]10:30 Out of breath she arrives at the consulate, composes herself and enters the building and immediately orders evacuation. [[<div class="next" title="11:00" alt="11:00">->Flora 11:00]]11:00 In her office, clerks have already started shoving piles of documents into cardboard boxes when a thunderclap muzzles the nervously rustling paper. For a brief moment every person in the room stands still, allowing the shivers on their backs to crawl down as if their bodies were lightning rods. “They have started firing!” Disbelief and disillusion fight for prominence in all eyes. [[<div class="next" title="11:30" alt="11:30">->Flora 11:30]]11:30 And then silence. People are running down the street, away from the palace. “The troops are withdrawing! The troops are withdrawing!” “Thank God!” Flora Pazos whispers, still breathing more than usual from sprinting here. “It was just a show of strength. I'm sure Hermes can cut some kind of deal with the military vultures.” [[<div class="next" title="12:00" alt="12:00">->Flora 12:00]]12:00 Slowly rearranging the office, Flora Pazos and her colleagues in the consulate are trying hard to ignore gnawing buzzing in the distance, an almost supersonic wail that seems to continue approaching for much longer than possible. [[<div class="next" title="12:30" alt="12:30">->Flora 12:30]]12:30 But when the jets shear over the palace firing their explosive load, ignorance stopped being an option. And as if to demonstrate that God cares even for the flock that abadoned him, heaven opens the floodgates and water pours down like judgement day. “All right.” Flora Pazos, always the leader. “Drop everything, go home, go to your families. Stay in. And wait. You will be notified when this place opens again.” [[<div class="next" title="13:00" alt="13:00">->Flora 13:00]]13:00 The lights, that were turned on after the rain started, suddenly go dark. Here and there the humming of an engine declined. “They hit the electricity.” [[<div class="next" title="13:30" alt="13:30">->Flora 13:30]]13:30 Flora Pazos had not expected rain today. Holding a news paper over her head she steps out of the consulate. As she locks the door behind her, the electricity starts working again and she hears the voice of Hermes Losada, far too loud, coming from a [[*radio*|13:30]] somebody had forgotten to extinguish. [[<div class="next" title="14:00" alt="14:00">->Flora 14:00]]14:00 Flora Pazos cries as the bombing seems to continue endlessly. “The palace isn't that big. Do they have to keep pounding it?” And then she cries even more. [[<div class="next" title="14:30" alt="14:30">->Flora 14:30]]14:30 She steps onto a tram and greets the driver. [[*América Dominguez*|America 14:30]] smiles at the elegant woman drenched more than the flacid newspaper Flora Pazos is still attempting to hold over her head. [[<div class="next" title="15:00" alt="15:00">->Flora 15:00]]15:30 The tram is riding steadily through an industrial area. Only stopping to let people on. Nobody gets off. Everyone wants to get away from the city center as quickly as possible. All plans have been cancelled. [[<div class="next" title="16:00" alt="16:00">->Flora 16:00]]01:30 There's not much that can awaken Ramiro Díaz. [[<div class="next" title="02:00" alt="02:00">->Ramiro 02:00]]02:00 Drunken people in the street. Every night the same thing. Ramiro Díaz only hears them if he goes to bed late. Not tonight. [[<div class="next" title="02:30" alt="02:30">->Ramiro 02:30]]02:30 A car stops. So does the drunken singing. Not even silence can awaken Ramiro Díaz. [[<div class="next" title="03:00" alt="03:00">->Ramiro 03:00]]03:00 Laughter on the street. Sleep in bed. [[<div class="next" title="03:30" alt="03:30">->Ramiro 03:30]]03:30 Silence. Only the gentle snoring of the giant is heard in the bedroom of Flora Pazos. [[<div class="next" title="04:00" alt="04:00">->Ramiro 04:00]]04:00 After making love with his wife, Ramiro Díaz usually gets up for a midnight snack. But Flora Pazos never fails to completely exhaust him. [[<div class="next" title="04:30" alt="04:30">->Ramiro 04:30]]04:30 Ramiro Díaz looks up at [[*Flora Pazos*->Flora 04:30]]. She's sitting straight up in bed, breathing fast. He kisses her thigh and falls asleep again. [[<div class="next" title="05:00" alt="05:00">->Ramiro 05:00]]05:00 Ramiro Díaz darts through a green meadow sprinkled with small yellow flowers as if he were as light as on the moon. [[<div class="next" title="05:30" alt="05:30">->Ramiro 05:30]]05:30 And then Ramiro Díaz opens his eyes, rolls over and steps out of bed. He looks back at the peacefully breathing [[*Flora Pazos*|Flora 05:30]] and smiles as he puts on his overalls. [[<div class="next" title="06:00" alt="06:00">->Ramiro 06:00]]06:00 In the distance the bells of the first tram ring. “Time to go to work!” Ramiro Díaz picks up his toolbox and pulls the heavy door of Flora Pazos's 19th century dwelling close behind him. “I wish we could meet again tonight, Doña Pazos. But my duty as a husband calls.” [[<div class="next" title="06:30" alt="06:30">->Ramiro 06:30]]06:30 Ramiro Díaz enters the Cantina of the Purified Saints and orders a bunch of assorted rolls and an espresso. A North American pop tune is playing softly on the radio. [[*América Domínguez*->America 06:30]] is reading the Diario del Pueblo at her usual table. “She is a beautiful woman,” Ramiro Díaz considered. “But not my type. Not my type at all.” He smiles as his thoughts embrace the still warm memory of his lover one last time. [[<div class="next" title="07:00" alt="07:00">->Ramiro 07:00]]07:00 Ramiro Díaz suddenly realized he was tapping his foot to the tinny sound coming from the radio speaker as the music was abruptly interrupted by the voice of a newscaster. He gulps down the coffee and steps out. “Buenos!” Whatever it is, he doesn't want to know. [[<div class="next" title="07:30" alt="07:30">->Ramiro 07:30]]07:30 Ramiro Díaz steps on the tram. The driver is still missing. Through the window of the Cantina of the Purified Saints he sees [[*América Domínguez*|America 07:30]] staring at nothing with slightly opened lips. She seems frozen. In fact everyone in the shop is very still, all heads turned towards the old radio. [[<div class="next" title="08:00" alt="08:00">->Ramiro 08:00]]08:00 The tram driver takes her place, shaking her head, muttering and sighing. “Here we go.” Ramiro Díaz didn't used to enjoy his work much. But since president Losada had distributed ownership of the factory among the workers, the sensation of going to work at his own place has made up largely for the sweat on his brow. In fact Ramiro Díaz now feels proud whenever the work strains his muscles. He and his compañeros, working together, as equals. It feels good. [[<div class="next" title="08:30" alt="08:30">->Ramiro 08:30]]08:30 The foundry where Ramiro Díaz works is actually close to his home, in the suburbs. But when he spends the night with Flora Pazos, he needs to take a tram to get there on time. Luckily, since the last elections, tram rides are free for people getting to work. “Here we go!” [[<div class="next" title="09:00" alt="09:00">->Ramiro 09:00]]09:00 A terrible racket behind them. “I'd hate to work in the city. Too much noise.” He opens his newspaper to the sports section. [[<div class="next" title="09:30" alt="09:30">->Ramiro 09:30]]09:30 “You're late, Ramiro Díaz!” His colleagues greet him cheerfully. “Yeah, you know how it is for someone with my looks.” And he strikes a poses, flexing his biceps. “Let's begin!” [[<div class="next" title="10:00" alt="10:00">->Ramiro 10:00]]10:00 The work is hard and not particularly interesting. But the factory feels a little bit like home. [[<div class="next" title="10:30" alt="10:30">->Ramiro 10:30]]10:30 The hiss of the furnace prevents talk among the workers. The thoughts of Ramiro Díaz drift off to last night, to the beautiful [[*Flora Pazos*|Flora 10:30]] and her insatiable temperament. He could have never married such a woman before. But now, maybe it would be possible. “Too late. Oh well.” And he continues the work. [[<div class="next" title="11:00" alt="11:00">->Ramiro 11:00]]11:00 Suddenly a loud clanging is heard outside. A few men leave their posts. They drag a man in, arms around their shoulders. His face is contorted. A bunch of pipes have come tumbling down on his foot. Luckily there's a doctor on the premises at all times. She will take care of him. [[<div class="next" title="11:30" alt="11:30">->Ramiro 11:30]]11:30 Ramiro Díaz loves driving the forklift. Any excuse is good. So he volunteers to clean up the mess outside. Some of the pipes are beyond salvation. “We'll just melt them down again. This is a no-waste outfit!” [[<div class="next" title="12:00" alt="12:00">->Ramiro 12:00]]12:00 When the weather permits it, the compañeros have their lunch outside. They all bring something from home. Or in the case of Ramiro Díaz from the Cantina of the Purified Saints. Suddenly two fighter jets fly over the small factory courtyard. “Wow! That's impressive. Good to know we have these boys to defend us.” “I wouldn't mind flying one of those!” “With your eye sight! I'd make sure I'm far away.” They all laugh. [[<div class="next" title="12:30" alt="12:30">->Ramiro 12:30]]12:30 “Wheh! Thunder!” Ramiro Díaz looks in the direction of the city. “Nasty dark clouds!” And suddenly it rain slams down on the dirt floor of the court yard. The men run inside as if fleeing from a mythical beast. The clatter on the alumnium roof sounds like machine gun fire. “Well, it's nice and warm in here.” [[<div class="next" title="13:00" alt="13:00">->Ramiro 13:00]]13:00 All lights go out. They had been switched on because of the dark weather. The men continue working silently in the glow of the molten steel. [[<div class="next" title="13:30" alt="13:30">->Ramiro 13:30]]13:30 Power is restored and the radio switches on. The voice is hard to understand. So Ramiro Díaz switches the channel. “Para bailar La Bamba!” All start singing.”Una poca de gracia para mí, para ti, ya arriba, ya arriba!” The men start working faster, to the rhythm of the music. [[<div class="next" title="14:00" alt="14:00">->Ramiro 14:00]]14:00 More thunder is heard even though the rain is letting up. [[<div class="next" title="14:30" alt="14:30">->Ramiro 14:30]]16:00 Time to call it a day. The men wash off hastily and leave the premises. Some by car. “Hey Ramiro! Want a lift?” “Nah, I'll walk home. It's not far. And the rain has stopped.” “So you're going home to the wife today, heh?” The old Plymouth drives off fast. Barely missing the tram that [[*América Domínguez*->America 16:00]] was leading away from the city center. [[<div class="next" title="16:30" alt="16:30">->Ramiro 16:30]]16:30 “I love how the world smells after the rain.” Ramiro Díaz wipes his hands at the wet grass by the side of the road. And then notices a red puddle on the pavement. It looked like blood. [[<div class="next" title="17:00" alt="17:00">->Ramiro 17:00]]17:00 A bit further down the road, three policemen are walking in and out of one of the neighboring houses bringing things to throw on a burning pyre in the middle of the street. “What are they burning? Are those film rolls? It sure stinks!” [[<div class="next" title="17:30" alt="17:30">->Ramiro 17:30]]17:30 At home, Ramiro Díaz switches on the radio and grabs himself a beer. When the musical program is interrupted for a political broadcast he switches it off and shuffles to the porch. “Man it's hot!” [[<div class="next" title="18:00" alt="18:00">->Ramiro 18:00]]18:00 Ramiro Díaz stands on the porch looking down the hill, vaguely enjoying a glorious [[*sunset*|18:00]]. A large plume of smoke is visible in the center of the city. There must have been a fire. Maybe lightning struck. He sees his wife and their three children hurrying up the hill. Her wide open eyes staring at him. “What?” he mumbles.01:00 “Ah! Life is good, is it not, amigos!” The five friends take to the empty streets, arms clumsily around each other's shoulders. [[<div class="next" title="01:30" alt="01:30">->Eutimio 01:30]]01:30 “Wow! Wow! A UFO!” Shouts Alejandro García, a student at the Universidad Popular, easily impressed with things grown up. “That's a helicopter, fool!” Eutimio Rodríguez and his friends start singing. [[<div class="next" title="02:00" alt="02:00">->Eutimio 02:00]]02:00 “But the fool on the hill. Sees the sun going down. And the eyes in his head. See the world spinning round!” Eutimio Rodríguez was not a Beatles fan but this song had inspired his first novel. His only novel. Well, the novel he was writing. Had been writing. For a few years now. [[<div class="next" title="02:30" alt="02:30">->Eutimio 02:30]]02:30 A police car stops. René Matos rolls down the window: “Keep it down, will you? People are trying to sleep.” [[<div class="next" title="03:00" alt="03:00">->Eutimio 03:00]]03:00 “It's okay, René!” The little group bursts out in shattering drunken laughter. [[<div class="next" title="03:30" alt="03:30">->Eutimio 03:30]]03:30 “Right.” The policeman pulls out his gun and gets out of the car. The drunken men run away but Eutimio Rodríguez stays. [[<div class="next" title="04:00" alt="04:00">->Eutimio 04:00]]04:00 “Let me give you a ride home.” René Matos opens the back door and signals with his gun. Eutimio Rodríguez steps towards the police car. “Gracias, René.” [[<div class="next" title="04:30" alt="04:30">->Eutimio 04:30]]04:30 Eutimio Rodríguez slips. While René Matos catches his friend, the gun falls out of his hand. And fires as it hits the floor! [[<div class="next" title="05:00" alt="05:00">->Eutimio 05:00]]05:00 “Amateur!” Eutimio Rodríguez giggles as [[*René Matos*|Rene 05:00]] helps him into the car. [[<div class="next" title="05:30" alt="05:30">->Eutimio 05:30]]05:30 The heat of the previous day could still be felt inside of the police car. And soon the gentle vibration of the Mustang put Eutimio Rodríguez into a comatose alcoholic sleep. [[<div class="next" title="06:00" alt="06:00">->Eutimio 06:00]]06:00 Somebody is pulling the arm of Eutimio Rodríguez violently. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” The head of Eutimio Rodríguez hurts. He lets [[*René Matos*->Rene 06:00]] drag him out of the police car and manages to remain upright on the pavement, next to the Purified Saints tram stop. René Matos gets back into the car, makes a U turn and drives away, sirens blazing. “Emergency.” He had said. “Called away.” [[<div class="next" title="06:30" alt="06:30">->Eutimio 06:30]]06:30 “Whatever.” Eutimio Rodríguez scratches his head. “I'm free!” And as soon as he starts laughing loudly he stops, bent in pain. “Ouch, my head, my poor head…” Following the smell of fresh coffee, he enters the Cantina of the Purified Saints. [[<div class="next" title="07:00" alt="07:00">->Eutimio 07:00]]07:00 As he enters, he finds everyone in the café staring at him. A sort of barking jumps through his ears and starts hammering his tender brain. He carefully turns his head in the direction of the sound and realizes that's what people are looking at. Before he can make a joke about the futility of looking at a [[*radio*->07:00]], the content of the message breaks through the foggy barrier of pain in his skull to awaken his journalistic instinct with a thrilling kiss. [[<div class="next" title="07:30" alt="07:30">->Eutimio 07:30]]07:30 Hangover dissolved by the adrenline rush, Eutimio Rodríguez shouts “Which way to Plaza de la Libertad?” He never had figured out how to get around in the capital. “Outside, to the right, follow the tram tracks,” mumbles [[*América Domínguez*|America 07:30]] in a haze of smoke. [[<div class="next" title="08:00" alt="08:00">->Eutimio 08:00]]08:00 Eutimio Rodríguez wanted to be there when it happened. Major world news, reported by an eye witness. Everyone would want to hear this story! Rushing past the Escuela Comunitaria, he almost stumbles over one of the silent children lining up for their daily glass of milk, courtesy of president Hermes Losada. [[<div class="next" title="08:30" alt="08:30">->Eutimio 08:30]]08:30 It's quite busy when he arrives at the Plaza de la Libertad. Lots of regular people, a few beatniks. One very elegant lady. He recognizes her: [[*Flora Pazos*|Flora 08:30]] of the consulate. Best buddies with the president. General do-gooder. Hates the press. Maybe he should try to interview her! “Nah. She wouldn't be here like everybody else if she knew what was going on.” [[<div class="next" title="09:00" alt="09:00">->Eutimio 09:00]]09:00 Some well dressed young men came out of a doorway, one carrying a banner and two others hunting rifles. None of them looks like a policeman. [[<div class="next" title="09:30" alt="09:30">->Eutimio 09:30]]09:30 Eutimio Rodríguez wasn't the only reporter. In fact the plaza area is pretty much swarming with men armed with pens and cameras. He takes out his tape recorder and walks up to the nearest uniform that looks like he's in charge. [[<div class="next" title="10:00" alt="10:00">->Eutimio 10:00]]10:00 But before Eutimio Rodríguez reaches the soldier, he bumps into [[*René Matos*|Rene 10:00]]. “Hey old friend! You're not here to arrest me, are you?” [[<div class="next" title="10:30" alt="10:30">->Eutimio 10:30]]10:30 Just as René Matos is about to suggest that the group take cover the shopping arcade, the shooting starts. [[<div class="next" title="11:00" alt="11:00">->Eutimio 11:00]]11:00 Some commands are shouted and before anyone can respond a thunderclap of gun fire explodes on the square. Eutimio Rodríguez bends over, falls first to his knees and then face down on the ground Officer [[*René Matos*|Rene 11:00]] looks as startled as anyone else.05:00 “Damn soviet antiques!” He helps his friend into the car, closes the door and picks up the gun. [[<div class="next" title="05:30" alt="05:30">->Rene 05:30]]05:30 As Eutimio Rodríguez dozes off on the back seat, the police radio breaks the silence: “A threat has been issued from the general staff of the army. They say the palace will be be bombed if the president does not surrender before noon. All personal is ordered to proceed to the Plaza de la Libertad.” [[<div class="next" title="06:00" alt="06:00">->Rene 06:00]]06:00 The first tram passes by. [[*América Domínguez*->America 06:00]] rubs the tears from her eyes. René Matos stops the car, gets out and opens the back door. “Wake up! Wake up, [[*Eutimio*->Eutimio 06:00]]!” He shakes his shoulder and starts pulling his arm. “Get out. I've been called away. Emergency.”09:30 René Matos is drifting. He wants to do his job as a police officer. But does that mean he should assist the military? Or should he join then young men from the Juventudes Socialistas he had noticed taking strategic places on the roofs to defend the presidential palace? [[<div class="next" title="10:00" alt="10:00">->Rene 10:00]]10:00 His orders are to remove the people from the Plaza de la Libertad for their own safety. René Matos urges [[*Eutimio Rodríguez*|Eutimio 10:00]] and his colleagues not to address the soldiers. “One never knows how those hoodlums will respond.” [[<div class="next" title="10:30" alt="10:30">->Rene 10:30]]11:00 “This is a really bad time for jokes,” René Matos starts to yell but his words are choked by the sight of blood flowing underneath the body of Eutimio Rodríguez at his feet. Everybody scatters like leaves in the autumn wind. [[<div class="next" title="11:30" alt="11:30">->Rene 11:30]]13:00 Though he had no intention to stop, René Matos checked the traffic lights only to realize that they weren't working and that a tram was standing still in the middle of the crossroads. [[*América Domínguez*|America 13:00]] didn't even see him coming. [[<div class="next" title="13:30" alt="13:30">->Rene 13:30]]06:00 The sun rises. “I'll need some coffee if I want to stay awake driving this car.” [[<div class="next" title="06:30" alt="06:30">->America 06:30]]06:30 América Domínguez leaves the tram to buy a newspaper and a coffee at the Cantina of the Purified Saints on the corner. She takes a seat and lights a cigarette. [[*Ramiro Díaz*->Ramiro 06:30]] enters and nods, smiling strangely. She yawns and again tears form in her eyes. [[<div class="next" title="07:00" alt="07:00">->America 07:00]]07:00 Suddenly a voice starts talking. She hadn't realized the [[*radio*->07:00]] was playing. The shopkeeper turns up the volume. [[<div class="next" title="07:30" alt="07:30">->America 07:30]]07:30 Now the soothing voice of president Losada is heard through the ancient [[*radio*|07:30]] sound system in the Cantina of the Purified Saints. “Politicians,” América Domínguez sighs while exhaling cigaret smoke into her cup of coffee. “Even the nice ones are liars.” [[<div class="next" title="08:00" alt="08:00">->America 08:00]]08:00 “Well, this tram is not going to drive itself. Not even if the rapture comes.” She can't help but notice the handsome [[*Ramiro Díaz*|Ramiro 08:00]] who was already seated, waiting patiently for the driver. She's always had a weak spot for rugged men. [[<div class="next" title="08:30" alt="08:30">->America 08:30]]09:30 The tram was diverted to one of the side streets. [[*René Matos*->Rene 09:30]] is directing all regular traffic away to make room for the military. Sometimes América Domínguez was frustrated by the lack of steering wheel in her vehicle. But there was no way of getting through. Many of the soldiers seem awfully young.13:00 “Now what?” América Domínguez exclaimed while everyone was looking around to see why the tram had suddenly stopped. “No electricity!” somebody yelled from the back seat. “So how come your radio is still playing?” [[<div class="next" title="13:30" alt="13:30">->America 13:30]]13:30 “Don't mind me,” América Domínguez chuckles. “I always get my emotions mixed up. I cry when I'm happy and laugh when I'm worried. "Get in!” The tram was powering up again and continuing down the track. [[<div class="next" title="14:00" alt="14:00">->America 14:00]]14:30 ”I'll live.” [[*Eutimio Rodríguez*->Eutimio 14:30]] left the tram on his own at the Galería Rosa Luxemburg stop right across the hospital. But his miraculous recovery was quickly eclipsed by the screams of an elegant if soaked woman getting on. ”They're bombing the palace! Turn this thing around!” [[<div class="next" title="15:00" alt="15:00">->America 15:00]]15:30 But how could they know? There was certainly something going on. But Anchuria had seen so many crises. Who is to say that this one would have any lasting effect. [[<div class="next" title="16:00" alt="16:00">->America 16:00]]15:00 “The president is dead!” somebody shouts. A shock went through the body of Flora Pazos as she realized how much she had once loved Hermes Losada and how much she now loves [[*Ramiro Díaz*->Ramiro 15:00]]. [[<div class="next" title="15:30" alt="15:30">->Flora 15:30]]16:00 Flora Pazos observes [[*Ramiro Díaz*->Ramiro 16:00]] through the awkwardly shaped windows of the tram. She knows that today her lover is going to his family and attempts to suppress the pang of guilt at the thought of his kids. “Let it go, Flora, such is life.”14:30 The work is hard. And it makes bodies hot. But somehow the humid heat of the tropical storm and the sweating bodies at work find a sort of satisfying harmony. [[<div class="next" title="15:00" alt="15:00">->Ramiro 15:00]]15:00 Work is good for the spirit. Dirty hands make you happy. Sounds like propaganda but it's true. [[<div class="next" title="15:30" alt="15:30">->Ramiro 15:30]]15:30 As long as you don't do too much of it. The body also likes to rest. And rest is good for the spirit too. Work days had been shortened when president Hermes Losada came into power. And wages were raised. He is a good man. [[<div class="next" title="16:00" alt="16:00">->Ramiro 16:00]]16:00 “The factories are closing for the day. I wonder if they will open tomorrow.” América Domínguez had seen it all before and never seems to get used to it. [[<div class="next" title="16:30" alt="16:30">->America 16:30]]10:30 Just as René Matos is about to suggest that the group take cover the shopping arcade, the shooting starts. [[<div class="next" title="11:00" alt="11:00">->Rene 11:00]]11:30 René Matos attempts to focus in order to remember where he parked the service vehicle. In an uncanny imitation of the events earlier this morning, he drags his friend to the car. [[<div class="next" title="12:00" alt="12:00">->Rene 12:00]]12:00 Ignoring just about any traffic rule he is used to enforce, he tears through the city direction hospital. “This car gets extremely noisy at this speed.” [[<div class="next" title="12:30" alt="12:30">->Rene 12:30]]12:30 “Oh great. Now it starts raining.” René Matos frantically jacks the switches of the windshield wipers to find the fastest setting not realizing that his tears are giving his vision more trouble than the tropical rain. [[<div class="next" title="13:00" alt="13:00">->Rene 13:00]]13:30 René Matos drags Eutimio Rodríguez out of the totalled police car and into the tram. Several people come out of the tram to help. [[*América Domínguez*|America 13:30]] starts laughing.08:30 The tram line in the Calle de los Angeles is one of the oldest in the city. A wide lane with plenty of space for lots of traffic. It was busier than usual at this time of day, as many pedestrians seem to be heading towards the Plaza de la Libertad. [[<div class="next" title="09:00" alt="09:00">->America 09:00]]09:00 “Holy mother of Jesus!” mutters América Domínguez as the tram smoothly passes a giant metal snake of heavy tanks slowly but steadly rumbling and rattling in the direction of the plaza. [[*Ramiro Díaz*|Ramiro 09:00]] is bothered as little by the spectacle as by her bashful glances in the rearview mirror. [[<div class="next" title="09:30" alt="09:30">->America 09:30]]14:00 “Man, what a storm!” América Domínguez hadn't hear such thunder since she was living with her parents on the farm in the Yaguara foothills. [[<div class="next" title="14:30" alt="14:30">->America 14:30]]15:00 Just when América Domínguez start to patiently explain to [[*Flora Pazos*|Flora 15:00]] how trams work and how she wishes for a steering wheel, she heard somone yell “The president is dead!” [[<div class="next" title="15:30" alt="15:30">->America 15:30]]16:30 The tram splashes a bucket of water on [[*Ramiro Díaz*->Ramiro 16:30]] but he waves at the blushing face of América Domínguez forming the words “no problemo” on his lips. [[<div class="next" title="17:00" alt="17:00">->America 17:00]]17:00 América Domínguez is trying hard to make her tram and everybody in it invisible as they pass by car after car stopped and searched by soldiers. [[<div class="next" title="17:30" alt="17:30">->America 17:30]]17:30 Gun shots in the distance. Helicopters passing over. The rumble of the thunder and the jet engines still looms heavily in the air. The announcement of a military commander sounds like an American cartoon on the portable [[*radio*|17:30]] in the back. [[<div class="next" title="18:00" alt="18:00">->America 18:00]]18:00 Nobody stops them. They're clear now. Traveling west, the tram seems to be chasing [[*the sun*|18:00]] setting on the horizon as if clinging to the last bit of light.07:00 [RADIO] “The police have been notified of a threat against the president. The threat is considered serious. Everyone is advised to stay clear from the Plaza de la Libertad until further notice.”14:30 Looking forward to getting some free drugs at the hospital, Eutimio Rodríguez is pushed aside by [[*Flora Pazos*|Flora 14:30]] who freezes as she turns to apologize. Eutimio Rodríguez looks down at his red soaked shirt. “Don't worry. I have no idea how that got there. You certainly didn't cause it.” [[<div class="next" title="15:00" alt="15:00">->Eutimio 15:00]]15:00 The banging in his head has returned and all Eutimio Rodríguez wants now is some peace and quiet. It is time to sleep. [[<div class="next" title="15:30" alt="15:30">->Eutimio 15:30]]15:30 All is white and clean and soft in the hospital bed. Eutimio Rodríguez is unconscious for the third time today. If it would be possible for him to dream in this state, he would certainly be dreaming of the beautiful [[*Flora Pazos*|Flora 15:30]]. Her concerned gaze had left a permanent impression on his sensitive mind.