Happy Families Part 2

And he looked at his cousin. "I understand."

It's possible that the waiter hid a smile that continued the interrupted phrase "I thought I was doing the lady a favor," though the craftiness of his sly Mexico City glance said to Jesus Anibal, "If you want her, keep her, after all, you're the boss."

Jesus Anibal was really curious about partic.i.p.ating in the play of glances-or the lack of them-among the waiter, Valentina, and himself, and he was satisfied, rejecting all temptation to flush with confused embarra.s.sment.

During the dinner, the waiter, when pa.s.sing the platter of turkey and dressing, could not help directing a glance at Ana Fernanda's decolletage but, without too much effort, avoided looking at the hidden b.r.e.a.s.t.s of Valentina, who, to forestall the servant's eyes, directed hers at Jesus Anibal with a clear intention to express thanks for the protection offered that afternoon.

Everyone was chatting amiably, animated by Ana Fernanda's social gaiety, when one of the inevitable blackouts in the southern part of the city provoked an equally inevitable "Aaaah!" from the diners and Jesus Anibal, moved by a force that not even he desired or understood, extended his leg under the table until his foot touched the tip of Valentina's.

His cousin withdrew her foot for a second but immediately, as if she feared the return of the light, resumed contact with Jesus Anibal. They amused themselves in this way until the power returned.

They were all talking about their next vacations, about places they had visited or were going to visit. Only Valentina remained silent, as if she weren't going anywhere.

When everyone drank cognac, she chose a digestive tequila.

As they sat and talked after dinner, the host tried to avoid his cousin's eyes, though it was difficult for him, and he told himself that these things didn't happen by accident, there must be a deeper reason for two distant beings to become close so quickly, especially if they were not-and manifestly they were not-frivolous people, because Jesus Anibal decided that walking barefoot or going into the kitchen for an early bite were delicious acts-did she think that? he thought-and in their own way, seriously free.

He prayed intensely for the darkness to return and the flirtation to resume. That did not happen. When he said good night, Jesus Anibal's kiss on his cousin's cheek was fleeting, but what was prolonged was the union of nose against nose and the sensation that joined respirations produced in both of them.

"Good night."

"Until tomorrow."

And in a very low voice, Jesus Anibal said, "Fate is on our side."

The host knew very well which bedroom had been a.s.signed to Cousin Valentina. Jesus Anibal waited for the hour of the wolf to leave his room and find Valentina's door. Would it be locked? No. He pushed it and entered a s.p.a.ce lit by a candle beside the bed, more undulating than chaste.

Valentina stood waiting for him, barefoot, in a long nightdress with an embroidered bodice.

2. No, it wasn't because she had been invited for only three nights, and whatever happened now would dissipate very quickly, divided between distance and forgetting. For once, Valentina Sorolla would surrender to forbidden pleasure, certain there would be no consequences. And it wasn't because she was hungry for love and, in the arms of her cousin, discovered it not for the first but certainly for the princ.i.p.al time, and therefore it was worth it, with no further consideration. No, it wasn't because, by allowing herself to be loved pa.s.sionately by Jesus Anibal, she would free herself from a feeling of revenge for the frustrations of an entire life, damaged as much by her physical appearance as by the withdrawn behavior determined by that fact.

No, it was nothing that came out of her and her life. This was what baffled her, subjected her, frightened her. She was barely a rivulet flooded by the great pa.s.sionate torrent of the man. It was he, Jesus Anibal, the cousin she had not known about until now, who was the origin, on that night and the three that followed, of the erotic and emotional fervor that overpowered Valentina when Jesus Anibal removed, with so firm a gentleness he seemed to tear them off, the skirts of stiff silk and the b.u.t.toned black shirt, furiously undid the chignon and kissed her until he suffocated her, laid her on the bed, told her sometimes with words sometimes with silences first give me a minute Valentina that's all I ask then give me the gift of an hour then let me spend the night with you saying and saying to himself Valentina your bitter peppery smell drives me crazy your hair hanging loose like a forest of snakes the beauty of your naked body so full so round so difficult to guess at under your nun's clothes, so dissonant with the severity of your features, you have a face that disguises your body the body doesn't correspond to the mask the mask converts the body into a dazzling discovery Valentina you know it don't cover your face realize it's your secret a face that conceals the secret of your body, how was I going to read you without daring to undress you, because it wasn't you Valentina who brought me to you I'm the one from now on who came here the one who found you and doesn't want to go away from you again I Jesus Anibal bewitched by you by your newness so ancient so latent so patient waiting at the bottom of my soul you know Valentina? the truth is I was killing myself and if you and I loving each other is a deception then the lie gives me life and it's my life my love my woman Valentina Sorolla desired and despaired over, do you realize the earthquake you provoke in me the yearning you cause in me the tender ferocity born in me when I possess you Cousin Valentina? you could hate me for what has happened between you and me and I would only love you more the more you despise me but it won't be like that will it? don't try to explain yourself at all all you have to do is accept this: because you are who you are you have captured me you are my unfamiliar pleasure each spin of your time fills the empty hourgla.s.s that was my soul Valentina how nice we become aroused side by side try to mistreat me my love and you'll see that no matter how much harm you do me you'll never succeed in touching the good you bring me I kiss all of you and I move with kisses from your feet to your head I don't want to be the first or last man in your life I want to be the only man Cousin Valentina my love for you has a Spanish name it's diehard love finding you turns me into pigheaded Jesus, if you leave me I'd have nothing but days without tranquility you're my peace my freedom my navel my nails my digestion my dreams Valentina you free me from the burdens of conscience obligation faithfulness custom so I can be the lover of the ugly woman in the family comparable to no one unique in her pa.s.sion who is all mine no one else's since no one would envy me no one would want to take you far from my sight and my touch I am unique in the pa.s.sion that is all mine no one else's my pleasure unfamiliar pleasure my wide and ardent Valentina did you even know you carried inside you so much uproar so much delicate silky loving sensibility did you know? I didn't don't be surprised never think he did me a favor because it isn't true you did me a favor and freed me from all lies all pretensions ugly no never say ugly the way you just did be quiet unique that's what you are not like anyone else never say grateful again the way you did now the one receiving the gift is me Valentina if I'm with you it's because you do me a favor you grant me something I want to deserve by loving you the way I did on Friday and now Sat.u.r.day and tomorrow Sunday before you go Valentina I can't bear that idea it's as if the arrow were piercing me like a Saint Sebastian before the bow of your solemn eyes my love that's why I love you because your eyes have dark circles and your lips are fleshless and your cheeks close to death and your hair a nest of vipers and your hands indecent claws on all my skin and your weight light under mine even lighter as if you and I the bodies of Valentina and Jesus had waited since infancy for the meeting promised by the stars of a man and a woman desperate to love each other the way you and I love each other cousin of my flesh forbidden cousin cousin obscene and pure at the same time Valentina if you leave me you know I will cry for you the sorrow of losing you will never disappear I will live and die for you because I am the discoverer of your true beauty the beauty seen only by the man who loves as I love you because I have discovered you and I cannot abandon the earthly body of my exploration I cannot veil with opacity and oblivion my privilege of being your cartographer your navigator your conquistador because your body is my land Cousin Valentina your body is my country because I am the lover who with you discovered the pleasure unknown until then because I love you Valentina because of my singularity and yours because no one would believe that someone like me would adore you or that someone like you would give herself to me and that is why each pleasure is a fragile sin and an incomparable thrill because you and I do not resemble anyone and that is what I was looking for without knowing it and what about you?

I thought I had been born to bother others and now I am going to think I am loved because I am different and because you are ugly Valentina and also because you are ugly don't you want me to feel beautiful because of you?

no Valentina feel ugly so I can adore you for what n.o.body else would dare to tell you I am ugly Jesus ugly ugly ugly you're my perversion and my longed-for adventure an unforeseen love first give me a minute Valentina then let me spend the night with you then my whole life ugly offer me to your soul Valentina and I will give you mine whom shall I tell that I love you?

whom, that we love each other?

3. Everyone withdrew after dinner. Only Valentina remained in the living room. Only for her the night had not ended.

Then he comes in.

Everyone has gone. They have all hidden themselves away to gossip.

Except Valentina still waiting for the sight that is the attraction: Jesus Anibal.

His eyes tell her, "I want to find you alone again."

Only they look at each other.

The others try to avoid others' eyes.

She knows how a protective attraction is being transformed into a physical attraction.

She returns to her first moment with Jesus Anibal.

She ignores everyone else.

She does not listen to the gossip.

The pretty woman desires the ugly woman's luck.

It seems a travesty.

Only a blind man would marry her.

It happens in the best of families.

And Ana Fernanda to Jesus Anibal: "You traded me for that scare crow? I don't have to pretend to despise you. But you are my husband in the eyes of G.o.d and man. I will never leave you. I will never give you a divorce. Get used to the idea. Dare to tell me I have done something wrong. Tell me something. Did you choose her because of your immense vanity, so you would know you are better-looking than she is? Because you could not stand being less good-looking than me, your wife? It was an unlucky day that we fixed up the house."

The relatives left.

Dona Piedita took to her bed, preparing, in her words, to go to "the hacienda in the sky."

Ana Fernanda did not invite anyone again and dedicated herself to bringing up her daughter, Luisa Fernanda, in accordance with the strictest Catholic morality.

Chorus of the Threatened Daughter

either you pay or we kill you they say she was a very good student a good daughter she had a boyfriend and everything they skated together they went on the ferris wheel the merry-go-round the octopus the fair smelled of muegano candy and popcorn peanuts cotton candy sticky sodas the wheel turned and her boyfriend took advantage of the girl's fear to put his arms around her and tell her if you don't kiss me I'll throw you out and to please him she opened his fly and there were sticky candies there too who pays for the fair?

don't they pay you for Sunday?

I don't have enough oh well then find another cheaper boyfriend don'tsqueezeit mayyourotthere what would happen to me without the fair on sat.u.r.days or without the sodas the popcorn the tamales how will you pay for the fair without money wait for me love I'll invite you to the fair don't rush put a hundred clips of drugs in your knapsack you'll sell them when school lets out we'll give you a hundred pesos for every hundred clips you sell and you'll give us three thousand she goes out we can go together to skate here in perisur mall away from the neighborhood and the dusty streets and the whistle of drug buyers and thieves when school lets out some pickpockets stole my knapsack it had the three thousand pesos I owed you either you pay or we kill you she covered everything but her head in blankets if I don't pay them they'll kill me they hit me all over look at the bruises papamama they robbed me they didn't kill me I killed myself because if I didn't kill myself they said they'd kill you papamama for the three thousand pesos I owe them ferris wheel merry-go-round drug dealers cocaine popcorn marijuana sodas straw hats of glue terrific

Conjugal Ties (1)

YOU'RE STILL WITH ME because there's n.o.body left but me who remembers your beauty. Only I have your young eyes in my old ones. because there's n.o.body left but me who remembers your beauty. Only I have your young eyes in my old ones.

TIME belongs to me. He doesn't understand it. I close my eyes and time belongs to me. belongs to me. He doesn't understand it. I close my eyes and time belongs to me.

WE'RE ALONE. You and I. Husband and wife. Newly-weds. We don't need anything. You don't let anyone in. Other people spoil everything. Only you and I, lost in an endless embrace. Chained dog barking in the courtyard. Only sound in the area. Your yellow dress tossed over a chair. The only light.

I DON'T HAVE the words. the words.How strange. We talk a great deal.Inside I'm silent.

THERE WERE MISUNDERSTANDINGS. I made a date with you for twelve o'clock. What? You said two. No, twelve. Write down your dates. Dates? How many do you have in a day? With whom? With how many people? Why do you provoke my jealousy with equivocal answers? You always knew I was jealous. You even liked it. I like to feel jealous. That's what you told me. And why didn't you ever make me feel jealous with another woman? What? You were always faithful? Or didn't you have the imagination? I was busy with my career. I never had time for chasing after women. I was absorbed in my work. You know that. I wanted to get ahead. For you. For me. For our marriage. For the two of us. I had ambitions. My greatest ambition was to be director general. You held me back. What did I do? Nothing. That was the problem. No, tell me, really, what did I do? Your behavior. Your wanton behavior. But if I'm tied to you, do you think I have time to deceive you? Ah, then, if you had the time . . . But you watch me like a jailer. That's what brought you down. Hovering over me the whole day. First those phone calls from the office. Then you'd show up unannounced. Then the absurdity of opening closet doors, looking under the bed, saying aha! in front of an open window. Finally, you wouldn't leave the house. You watched over me day and night. And instead of calming down, you grew more and more jealous. Of what? Of whom? And you don't remember that jealousy inflamed my desire, the more I had you, the more I laid siege to you, like an enemy city, I laid siege to you with my tenderness and my eyes and my skin until you surrendered and then felt disgust for me and disgust for yourself for having done everything you shouldn't have what was forbidden what was dirty what degrades us to ourselves but not you, you took it for granted, it was natural, you had no idea of sin, my disgust wasn't yours, you felt something like ecstasy, wh.o.r.e, you displayed it to me, you didn't share my anguish, you laughed at me, where did you get all that business about "existential anguish," alvaro, what did you think, that I was a book or a student thirsty for knowledge? why didn't you accept all s.e.xual experiences, the most daring, the most calculated, but especially the most spontaneous, the ones that came to us out of the night, the postponed dawn, the unexpected afternoon? why did you interrupt my o.r.g.a.s.m to tell me to look at the horrifying sight of two roosters slashing each other to death in a pit? where did you get the idea that a c.o.c.kfight would excite me more than your s.e.x? why give me explanations? c.o.c.kfights always excited me, I had my first erection watching a fighting c.o.c.k slash another fighting c.o.c.k in an imaginary pit, no, it was in San Marcos, at the fair, but I wasn't there, the pit was the sand of my imagination, Cordelia, the battle took place in my head and you were incapable of penetrating it that's why I said to myself as long as she doesn't penetrate my imagination, I won't penetrate her body again, that's the simple truth, enough explanations, let's not give any cause for gossip, fire the maids, don't invite anyone to the house, I don't want busybodies in my life, I want the freedom to imagine the worst and make you pay for your sins, they're imaginary alvaro, nothing of what you imagine has happened but it can happen, you can't deny that Cordelia.

MY GREATEST AMBITION was to be director general. Your behavior held me back. Can't you repent, can't you do that for me? was to be director general. Your behavior held me back. Can't you repent, can't you do that for me?

HE TAKES PLEASURE IN muzzling me and asking: What are you thinking about? muzzling me and asking: What are you thinking about?

I WANT TO CONQUER your superiority of a well-brought-up girl, from a good family, discreet. And unbearable because of it. your superiority of a well-brought-up girl, from a good family, discreet. And unbearable because of it.

HE EVOKES Cordelia's young perfumed hair. Now he pulls off her wig and guffaws. He chokes her with both hands and asks her to sing "Amapola." Cordelia's young perfumed hair. Now he pulls off her wig and guffaws. He chokes her with both hands and asks her to sing "Amapola."

BEG, BEG.

Why are you doing this to me?

I want you to pay for the simple fact of being an old woman and having lost your looks.

Have you no mercy?

Isn't cruelty better than compa.s.sion?

I'm tired, alvaro, you exhaust me.

How could you marry me, a man without humor, ugly, vulgar, ignorant?

I don't know, alvaro.

I know, my sa.s.sy little princess. You think that with you, princess, I'll overcome my own inferiority complex.

I'll think about it.

Whaaat . . . ?

HE CHAINS HER to the foot of the bed and observes her for hours waiting for her to say something or ask for water or to be hungry and she only looks at him with a kind of pa.s.sive resistance that makes him suspect that her gamble is to endure the unbearable for years in order to dominate the tyrant in the end, wear him down until she conquers him. Like that troublemaker Mahatma Gandhi. to the foot of the bed and observes her for hours waiting for her to say something or ask for water or to be hungry and she only looks at him with a kind of pa.s.sive resistance that makes him suspect that her gamble is to endure the unbearable for years in order to dominate the tyrant in the end, wear him down until she conquers him. Like that troublemaker Mahatma Gandhi.

DO YOU KNOW, CORDELIA? There's no difference between the morgue and bed. Lie down like a corpse! And now fornicate.

HE LEAVES HER tied to the bed until he sees her surrounded by excretions and he closes his eyes to smell in all their purity her internal wastes, what she carries inside, not erotic delight, not sublime love, but all this that he looks at now and smells . . . tied to the bed until he sees her surrounded by excretions and he closes his eyes to smell in all their purity her internal wastes, what she carries inside, not erotic delight, not sublime love, but all this that he looks at now and smells . . .

I'M COUNTING on blind obedience aging and hardening a woman, that's what I'm counting on . . . on blind obedience aging and hardening a woman, that's what I'm counting on . . .

HE THREATENS to pull out one of her nails with pliers. Once he dares to do it. A single nail. The one on the little finger of her left hand. Her wedding band shines even more brightly on the adjacent ring finger stained with blood. That seems beautiful to him. Let the little finger bleed and the ring finger look good. Aren't they husband and wife? He wouldn't do this to a prost.i.tute. He wouldn't give her that much importance. Does he exult, thinking that with all these actions he is exalting the conjugal relationship to the maximum? to pull out one of her nails with pliers. Once he dares to do it. A single nail. The one on the little finger of her left hand. Her wedding band shines even more brightly on the adjacent ring finger stained with blood. That seems beautiful to him. Let the little finger bleed and the ring finger look good. Aren't they husband and wife? He wouldn't do this to a prost.i.tute. He wouldn't give her that much importance. Does he exult, thinking that with all these actions he is exalting the conjugal relationship to the maximum?

Do you realize I'm doing all this only to prove one thing to you?

What thing?

That I live only for you.

And the world?

What world?

Don't you realize that the world is much larger than this bedroom?

I don't want to know that.

You can't save yourself from the world, alvaro. Don't you realize that?

You're the one who doesn't understand that you protect me from the immensity of the world and reduce it down to this corner.

I think you owe that to me.

What?

Understanding at least a corner of the world.

I don't want anyone to think you're married to me out of loyalty and habit. I want to know and I want you to know that you're here against your will. That you can't escape this house. Dammit, not even this bedroom. Prisoner.

Then why did you tell Leo on the phone that I'm here because I want to be?

How do you dare to call that b.u.m here?

Well, alvaro, life follows its course. I mean, beyond these four walls.

Look at them carefully. What they're like.

Yellow. A dirty, stained yellow. Full of white shadows where photographs used to be.

You'd call them lies. Photos of your childhood, your first communion, our engagement, f.u.c.king rowing on Chapultepec, f.u.c.king holding Madero's hand, f.u.c.king honeymoon in Nautla, f.u.c.king skiing on Tequesquitengo Lake . . .

A flooded valley, alvaro. You can see a sunken church at the bottom of the lake. You ski past, and your feet brush against the dome.

Tequesquitengo.

The cross, the cross.

The cross where Our Lord Jesus Christ died, of course.

Yes, the instrument of execution. The cross or the electric chair or the gibbet or the wall. Ways to dispatch us to the next world without a G.o.d who comes down to save us. The cross. I laugh at the cross and at fiction. The cross is fiction. We might as well worship an electric chair. We might as well place a gibbet on the altar. We might as well carry a guillotine in a procession. We might as well distribute wafers with cyanide during Ma.s.s. Ite vita est. Ite vita est.