Dance Lest We All Fall Down - Margaret Willson [138]
“What a great idea!” Almuht said. “I’d love to talk to Rita. And to see what her brother says.”
Almuht and Mo telephoned Rita a few days later. I heard from Almuht first.
“Rita is fantastic!” she said. “She knows totally what she’s doing. Anyone outside would be a disaster. You know that, I know that. Middle-class guys in Brazil would just treat Rita like some lowly person. They’d steal from us, make the entire thing much more expensive, and Rita would never work with them anyway.”
A few minutes later, I heard from Mo. “Rubim is fantastic!” he said. “I wish I could work with him on the building. They still know all the classical construction methods there—stone masonry, the woodworking. I could learn a lot. He’s such a great guy. It’d be fun just to hang out with him and chat about stuff. We got talking about all the different methods of construction between the States and Brazil, how permits work, all that. It’s fascinating.”
I smiled into the phone receiver. “I’m sure it is, Mo.”
I felt manipulative. But I also asked myself why I’d never had board members talk with Rita directly. She could defend herself better than I could. By speaking on her behalf, I was, in a sense, diminishing her, suggesting that I was somehow more central. Her voice was the strong one here.
The day finally came for the lunch meeting with Henry’s contact, Walter. James and Mo couldn’t attend.
Walter arrived with a notebook, several folders, bright eyes, and dark curly hair. “Ah, so you’re Margaret,” he said when we met. He spoke in Portuguese. “I’m so pleased to meet you. Bahia Street seems like such a wonderful project. I want to visit it when I go to Salvador next.”
“That’d be great.” I smiled in spite of myself. His enthusiasm was infectious.
We ordered lunch from the counter and all sat down.
“So, explain to us the process of constructing a building in Brazil,” Henry said.
“Sure.” Walter took a few bites of his sandwich and spread out the folders he had brought. “Now, remember, I work for big companies; we do everything top drawer. We’re talking millions of dollars, so a little school building is very different. But there are some aspects that are the same.”
Everyone nodded. Almuht and Joyce opened their notebooks. I said nothing and waited. I wondered if my face reflected the burning bile that sat at the base of my throat.
“Your architect must be certified.”
“He is,” Almuht said. “They got someone named Mario who worked for Boeing and the Brazilian airline Varig.”
“Great. Because in Brazil the architect does more than the plans. He makes the calculations with the structural engineer of what materials you’ll need. They should also have a certified structural engineer.”
Almuht checked her notes. “They do.”
“But what about the general contractor?” Henry asked. “She wants to hire her brother for that.”
“If her brother’s a general contractor, then that’s great,” Walter said. “The general, in a small project like this, doesn’t have to be certified, just—they have a term for it in Portuguese, ‘established in the trade’—and if she can get her brother, all the better. At least then there’s less of a chance he’ll be cheating her. She knows where he lives.”
“But how can you have control over that?” Henry asked. “If it’s her brother, she could use the funds any way. Shouldn’t we have a supervisor?”
Walter glanced in my direction. His eyes looked troubled. I realized that he sensed discord and wasn’t sure how he should respond. Strange, I thought. It didn’t appear as though Henry had talked with him at all about the board conflict, just invited him cold to give us some advice. He was only now sensing the political weight his words might carry.
“If you think you really need an outside supervisor, I suppose I can help you with that.” Walter glanced quickly around the group. “But you have to trust the people you’re working with in the end. I don