chapter 22

Siren Song

"Padre, you are a hundred years old. You have heard and seen much. Please tell me the most perfect story you've ever heard."

The cracked skin around the ancient man's eyes stretched nearly flat as a smile spread across his lips.

"Ah, Padre, por favor, let it be one about man, not about God or the Holy Virgin. I know you are full of such stories and we love you for them, but we would like to hear a more earthly story. Is this possible?"

"No matter," said the old man. "All stories are about God whether they are spiritual or earthly. But, yes, I will satisfy your desire.

"This is a story a man took to his grave. And a watery grave at that. It was only fitting since Juan DeBargo lived his last thirty years aboard his yacht,Siren.

"As most mysterious tales do, Juan's story began years before he was born. Back when his sensitive singing father was turned down by one woman after another. Until he said, "Olvidar!" and concentrated on his career. Never forget that the fruit does not fall far from the tree. Because Alfonzo DeBargo's scenario would be played out in another generation only louder, clearer, and on a much larger stage.

"Little Juan almost invited rejection. To the out-front senoritas of Puerto deVargo, the shy boy felt awkward. They make fun of me, they laugh at me, they don't accept me, wailed the sensitive boy. And so when Margarita rejected him -- just as he expected -- it sent the little boy deep into himself. Self-fulfilling prophesy they call it nowadays, eh? But it also helped to make little Juan one of the greatest international song writers of the new millennium.

"Father Alfonzo had learned that being on water heals even the deepest wounds. So he named his thirty-two foot boatOlvidar-- Forget -- and in so doing was constantly reminded to let go of his hurts. For to a Mexicano, with so much Latino boiling in his heart and veins, the rejection from the senoritas was profound. But on the water the wound was suaved. And he passed his cure to his son.

"Juan bought his first boat after the success of his first single. Naturally he christened the vesselPrimo. The second,Duo, was fifteen feet longer and boasted a small, but sufficient sound studio. This he bought after his second hit, an album. And so it went: the greater his success the larger the boat, until finally he was the proud owner of a magnificent hundred-foot vessel complete with everything the richest and most talented musician could fantasize. He called itCrescendo Maxima.

"But this story isn't about boats," said the holy man. "Or about success. Or even women. It's about one man and what he did throughout his life as a reaction to one, specific woman.

"Her name was Angellica -- in Juan's mind, anyway. In the Court House marriage records it was Senora Helena Beutifica Saint Martino Defeugo. The Defeugo came from her husband, a noble, generous, handsome, wealthy, successful man who was enamored by his beautiful wife at least as much as recording artist Juan DeBargo was. And Angellica loved the man-of-her-dreams prince as deeply as a Latino can love a man. Which in Juan's mind meant completely and forever.

"What the great song writer did, then, was totally predictable since we know his past. His father established the pattern and he simply followed. Only Juan, being a greater musician than his model, would add variations to the theme. For, as if fated, Juan Fernando DeBargo fell incurably in love with this untouchable goddess, Helena.But never let her know.

"That is, directly. Juan did express his love but so indirectly that the woman never sensed he even knew she existed. Which is exactly what he wanted because incognito allowed him to tell her he loved her in every song, yet never have to face rejection.

"Dante had his Beatrice, Cyrano his Roxanne. Now, Juan his Helena. Here's the way the story played out.

"One sultry evening Juan was enjoying his success aboardPrimo. He was moored next to an extravagant, luxurious vessel,El Perfecto, an ocean-going boat befitting a man of great wealth and sophistication which described Panjo Defeugo exactly. That was the first time that Juan saw Helena. Bronze skin, perfectly figured, black hair, black eyes, the graceful movements only goddesses can conjure, the heavenly voice no human could duplicate, and her heart, beaming over in purity, fullness, love, and devotion. Devotion because it was obvious that the only person she would ever love was her worthy husband.

"What else could Juan do but vanish? Never let the heavenly being be

aware that he'd even seen her? And so in the middle of the night Juan cast off. Never again did he see his divine Angellica.

"But he wrote to her constantly. Not letters but songs. Every song was to her personally and specifically though he never used her name. It was always Angellica. And every performance he blew a kiss to the audience saying lovingly, "To you, my dear Angellica."

"Naturally, when he became known as the Latin lover, the women adored him just because he never approached them. They all felt they were Juan's secret Angellica. Who was this woman he obviously adored so much that he would mention her name in public?

"Publicity men and impresarios couldn't have staged it any better. In the heart of every senorita Juan was eligible. And, paradoxically, because he attached himself to no earthly one, every girl attached herself to him.

"He never docked in any harbor for long, even before he captainedCrescendo Maxima. It had started, ironically, withPrimoand even before his father'sOlvidar. For once famous, the song writer's vessel seldom touched shore. He helicoptered to his performances and recorded aboard.

"And throughout the astronomical heights his career reached, every day he told Helena how perfectly he loved her. Only she never knew. Listen to the words this anguished lover sang.

"My darling, Angellica,

Only a fool would ignore you.

A man with sight, both ears working,

Would pour his heart to you at every breath.

No love, NO LOVE, could be greater than mine,

For you are personified, manifested, God-on Earth LOVE."

"And while poets and music critics debunked his earlier outpourings as cheap and awkward sentimentalism, they were deafened by the thundering beats of the world's feminine hearts.

"We're loved!"

"The greatest irony of the two decades that Juan DeBargo reigned was that while his female audiences sang, "We're loved as no man has ever loved," and, "We're loved as no man could love," he never experienced a single syllable from his true love's lips.

"There is no poetic justice in Juan's story," said the ancient Padre. "Because no woman ever surrendered herself and became his physical partner. There was no tragic martyrdom: Juan was programmed to act as he did so he never felt he'd given up a thing. There was no high-pitched, "I

told you so!" when he died: he had never set out to prove a point or outdo anyone. There was, at the end, only an accidental and unheralded falling off the fantail ofMaxima.

"How many women, world-wide, felt the loss? As many as had felt they were the only one in the audience. And more, for secretly, in the hearts of so many married women, was that desire for the perfect man, the perfect love. Because that's what Juan implanted in them. Never demanding, never asking, never suggesting any reciprocation. Juan DeBargo only gave. ONLY gave. And that single quality put him levels above everyone.

"And whether the world will fault the man his abnormal upbringing or not, still he did contribute something special. As he said in his last song.

"Dear Angellica,

Dear, dear Angellica,

What more can I give than my very heart,

What more can I give, my dear?"

"And at the end, and ever after, the beautiful Senora Helena Beutifica Saint Martino Defeugo never suspected a thing. That was Juan's true Crescendo Maxima.

"Yet every other woman knew they were his Angellica.

"And that, curious one," said the aged and wrinkled priest, "is the most perfect earthly story I have ever heard. Yet, though earthly, it is also about the Divine, non?"

"But Padre, the ending: isn't that less than perfect?"

"No, no," smiled the priest's wrinkles. "It is only fitting. We are born, we love, we give, we die, and if our hearts are pure, even after we're gone our legacy lives on. And what was Juan Fernando's legacy? Listen again to his words.