amended Story original "Zárate, published in the Second Book of the Escuela de Escritores de Madrid," Tusitala. "
The day he came to Mauritius travel Zárate dawned full of clouds. When I woke up I assumed it had arrived early respite from the sweltering heat in recent days, since during the night someone had closed the bedroom window, and the black clouds that loomed behind the glass, heavy with rain, were not common in the summer of Buenos Aires. The house was quiet, just I sensed a deep breath filled me with baby quiet. At my side the wrinkled sheets exposed the absence of my partner. I peeked at the foot of the bed where we had placed the home of Matthew and I saw him sleeping on his back with arms and legs by drawing the outline of a swordsman tiny and cute. I smiled and thought that things, after all, they were not so bad. I got up and shuffled to the humble bathroom.
"We're going to see my father.
found to Mauritius with a face full of enthusiasm and shaving in the mirror. I rubbed my eyes and pushed him gently with his hip making me a site in front of the sink, while that turned the cold water tap to increase the flow from the faucet. He began a gesture of protest, raising his eyebrows, but ended up being a smile full of malice. I felt her belly pressed against me.
- THE dwarf sleep? "He said by way of proposal.
imagined it would have taken the decision the night before, when he stayed up late talking with her mother and Ana Julia after dinner, but did not ask anything. I had chosen to retire to tell a story to children and respect the privacy that rhymes with the blood.
For more than ten years that Mauritius had migrated to Madrid, between us we called things by their name, and five who were living together. At that time I had heard only two or three times with his father by phone, one of them when he had surgery for a hernia that had been bedridden for months. Were never seen again.
As in our previous visits to Buenos Aires, the days passed in perfect weather. The prodigal son returned, making it clear that the opportunities afforded Europe, things were going very well and even speak back to Argentina. On the side of them it was all affection, and pride for the man of the house, syrupy talks about the virtues of a man who had been educated at the military academy in complete absence of the father, only occasionally marred by some puteada against the government, inflation, and the difficulties of living with dignity in a country at times anachronistic. I usually autoexcluía me of those moments, too adulterated by the unreality and the family consensus. The arrival of Paul, the husband of Ana Julia, and nephews of Mauritius represented a breath of fresh air in those meetings desktop. With the birth of Matthew, the holiday passed around the boys. We got into the eight in the truck of Paul with carts included, breaking all traffic laws and common sense could only be conceived as things there, "and traveled to Pilar, where they rented seasonal one country, and enjoyed a barbecue prepared with care and calm of the ascetics. Maurice
Triangle Mama Ana Julia never broke. Other disordered electrons we turned around as necessary, but interchangeable, as if it never existed fourth corner, now impossible, to do the initial set another, a fuller, less perfect but more human: Rubén. Mauricio spoke little of him, but his mother had been leaking the story over the years. It was a familiar story. A parent driven by unemployment, lack of hope in a country rural ambiguous, who had abdicated their children, brought into the world may be too young both. Inconstant someone at work, constantly tempted by easy money. And then it had been rotting as a result wet to the separation. After Maurice's mother had returned to Buenos Aires with the kids, away from the end of a south could never understand. I had never succeeded in figuring out where to hide each of the three pain, seemingly invisible, because it seemed that after all and now the relationship with Reuben, though scarce, cordial. Mauricio
had long since had finished shaving, but we kept in the mirror, then we heard whining Matthew and I rushed to put the pajamas with much pleasure that I had left off. I took it out of the crib and went to the kitchen. To my surprise they were all awake. Ana Julia, by the stove, heated water to mate. Lying on the counter with delight inspired his cigar smoke, puffing toward a large window that opened onto the veined marble mantel, as if to keep the room air with no pollution. It was a beautiful woman. Not physically resembled his brother or his mother (both features were very Italian), another branch of genetics seemed more Indian features, one that I know. His mother was sitting at the long table in the kitchen. He greeted me warmly and offered me fat crescents tray reigned over a huge cloth Andean colors. He told me that Paul was out with the guys to buy a newspaper.
"Sit down dear.
I finally understand the unexpected decision of Mauritius. Ruben was the birthday and wanted to be in his house without warning Zárate. Struck by surprise with his grandson in her arms, her third grandchild. He was one of those things easily illusions, thinking over the scene with his child's heart, think and feel just how good it could happen. Then there was no way to convince him otherwise. Too easily seen success, although the idea was fetched. His mother respected the decision, with apparent caution, for fear of offending Ana Julia, whose character was capable of ruining any illusion of Mauritius, but without effort let slip that his gesture of satisfaction, imagining also the reunion. Ana Julia was silent, pensive, perhaps annoying. Suddenly, put out the cigarette in the sink and began to talk about plans they had done for the day, and how absurdly would break for doing something that is clearly going to end in disaster. Until his mother, feeling the steps of Mauritius, coming down the aisle, banged the table to silence her.
Matthew decided to leave Buenos Aires. Paul lent us the car and left the city. We lined the July 9 and noticed that the clouds were piling up on the roof of heaven, and though still early, and felt the heat inside the car, my mind about that trip was invalid. He had learned to ride without foundation occurrences of Mauritius, as a defect tolerable, even when the consequences brought us trouble. If I tried to convince him otherwise, arguing examples in which the result had been dismal, I stroked his face with both hands and asked me to help him, not leave him alone, like a small child to the door school. However, at that time, celebrated in silence that he had decided to visit his father. At the end of the day was her father. As we were leaving behind the sharp towers, the iconic Obelisk, the silence was strongest among us. The last thing I said before arriving Mauricio Zárate reminded me that he loved with unconditional crazy.
- then we done before? "But ...
At that time, was somewhat confused by the question, I realized we were going to a place without a plan. "We would stay the night? Was he at home? What happens when we saw another family go?
reach Route 9 to be opened northwest of the country and was lost in Rosario. Mauricio led thoughtful, and I tried to imagine the meeting. Come to the dinner, maybe they were celebrating with friends, with the grandmother, brother, half-brothers with Mauricio and Ana Julia and the second wife of Reuben. As the road began to run parallel to the river Paraná appeared over our heads a green sign with white letters indicating output Zárate. For several minutes, perhaps half an hour we were wandering what I assumed was a neighborhood or outside of the city. Messy streets unpaved, dotted with pools of dirty water, clouds of mosquitoes lurking. The low houses were occurring with the court as colonial, traditional neighborhoods in Buenos Aires bordered on flirtation, but rather evidenced here some neglect. Some children were playing in the street barefoot. I was glad I had not brought Mateo. I felt it would have been too big a commitment for Ruben, meet his son and grandson at the same time. The influence of the river was present in the sticky humidity that began to make us sweat.
Just when I started to think we were lost, Mauricio broke the silence to explain that he knew the way by heart. Who had lived there until age eight, and not bend to have come to the house otherwise different than walking. But it also had no doubt of how to arrive. I would have liked to tell me over the house that was her grandmother (now she lived a few streets away, I said too), I wanted to imitate the numbers and share that with him, but his speech was imposed as a monologue or thought aloud. One day, "he said patting his leg, after two days without appearing for the house, her old man was presented with the idea of \u200b\u200btaking them to live in the south, in the province of Santa Cruz, where he had been promised good job at Swift. Mauricio
I felt slowed down while crouched head trying to find the numbers of doors, or perhaps the time estimated to be missing it started to rain. Suddenly stopped short. He had stopped in front of a single-story house like all of the street. Had a high and glazed door with small windows on the sides, who remained blind to the floor. Thus, since the car was not seen any movement inside the house. Around it was a small courtyard surrounded by a black lattice where they grew to their own creeping plants that were bidding to cover up the worn tiles that served as a road. To the right of the garden was made wider to accommodate a fragrant peach whose main branch hanging something like a swing. Lattice door was also closed. I was struck by the fact that over the handle of the gate outside had threaded a small bouquet of white roses. Mauricio cut the engine and took a deep breath before opening the door. Without lowering the car honked repeatedly. Then there was silence. For a moment I thought maybe this was not the house, or had gone out for lunch. Mauritius fell without saying anything and went through the first door. He walked toward the house, and stood a moment, as if he had forgotten something. Then a thunderclap shook the sky, I saw him shudder. Then followed walking to the door of the house and waited. No rang the doorbell and knocked. Only turned his head toward me, that was already out of the car and beckoned to ring the bell. But he did not. Just spent a few minutes. Silent. Without doing anything. Listening to the conjecture of rain. Finally saw a shadow approaching from down the hall to the other side of the glass. Opened and stared very hard at Mauritius, as if he approved costs. He was a man with white hair without distinguishing clearly looked familiar. Without exchanging words clung to Mauritius and I thought it was sobbing. Then he turned to the hallway and started screaming.
-Reuben idiot is the guy, the kid. Mauricio
I turned to look with his eyes and waved me to go with him, but I did not move. I saw him lean over the man who had to embrace, stand on tiptoe, search again. She burst into rain.
Soon a man dragging a limp appeared also marked by the hall, followed by three or four packages but not distinguished from the street. With a whisper I heard him say: "Hello son
.
In that first moment I found a weak, like a paper figurine about to blow away. His face was serious, almost tired. I found his expression, no resemblance to Mauritius But I recognized his eyes sharp eyes of Ana Julia. Maurice smiled. He laughed that laugh with his generous, unrestrained by joy. They said things monosyllables. They looked up and down. Then I realized it was pouring rain because I had shoes full of water. I ran across the lawn to the front door. In the front I thought I saw a cockroach climbing scared of water.
Then, on reaching the side of Mauritius and take her hand, looking at his father's eyes, I realized that something had happened. A small change, almost imperceptible to an outside observer but transmuted the two protagonists in others, and perhaps changed course of events that night. It was a moment that could silence all, even with the force of the rain and the hum of mosquitoes. Even with the beating heart of Mauritius that I felt in the palm of your hand. The child relaxed smile. His father patted her back and began to speak with new force, as if twenty years younger. Now where was he laughed and put his arm on the shoulders of Mauritius.
"How nice it came right on my birthday. Did you remember? Nice. Are all: the grandmother, the kids, my wife. It will brighten. We were just ... "And she? Ah, your wife. Are you married? I Look you invited. A nice taste. Did you remember to bring me the coins? What are there ESP?
I saw them in ahead of me in the hallway backlight while the man who came to open, smiling, I held the door for her. Behind us the shadows of the end of the day began to spread through the neighborhood like the tentacles of an octopus.
The day he came to Mauritius travel Zárate dawned full of clouds. When I woke up I assumed it had arrived early respite from the sweltering heat in recent days, since during the night someone had closed the bedroom window, and the black clouds that loomed behind the glass, heavy with rain, were not common in the summer of Buenos Aires. The house was quiet, just I sensed a deep breath filled me with baby quiet. At my side the wrinkled sheets exposed the absence of my partner. I peeked at the foot of the bed where we had placed the home of Matthew and I saw him sleeping on his back with arms and legs by drawing the outline of a swordsman tiny and cute. I smiled and thought that things, after all, they were not so bad. I got up and shuffled to the humble bathroom.
"We're going to see my father.
found to Mauritius with a face full of enthusiasm and shaving in the mirror. I rubbed my eyes and pushed him gently with his hip making me a site in front of the sink, while that turned the cold water tap to increase the flow from the faucet. He began a gesture of protest, raising his eyebrows, but ended up being a smile full of malice. I felt her belly pressed against me.
- THE dwarf sleep? "He said by way of proposal.
imagined it would have taken the decision the night before, when he stayed up late talking with her mother and Ana Julia after dinner, but did not ask anything. I had chosen to retire to tell a story to children and respect the privacy that rhymes with the blood.
For more than ten years that Mauritius had migrated to Madrid, between us we called things by their name, and five who were living together. At that time I had heard only two or three times with his father by phone, one of them when he had surgery for a hernia that had been bedridden for months. Were never seen again.
As in our previous visits to Buenos Aires, the days passed in perfect weather. The prodigal son returned, making it clear that the opportunities afforded Europe, things were going very well and even speak back to Argentina. On the side of them it was all affection, and pride for the man of the house, syrupy talks about the virtues of a man who had been educated at the military academy in complete absence of the father, only occasionally marred by some puteada against the government, inflation, and the difficulties of living with dignity in a country at times anachronistic. I usually autoexcluía me of those moments, too adulterated by the unreality and the family consensus. The arrival of Paul, the husband of Ana Julia, and nephews of Mauritius represented a breath of fresh air in those meetings desktop. With the birth of Matthew, the holiday passed around the boys. We got into the eight in the truck of Paul with carts included, breaking all traffic laws and common sense could only be conceived as things there, "and traveled to Pilar, where they rented seasonal one country, and enjoyed a barbecue prepared with care and calm of the ascetics. Maurice
Triangle Mama Ana Julia never broke. Other disordered electrons we turned around as necessary, but interchangeable, as if it never existed fourth corner, now impossible, to do the initial set another, a fuller, less perfect but more human: Rubén. Mauricio spoke little of him, but his mother had been leaking the story over the years. It was a familiar story. A parent driven by unemployment, lack of hope in a country rural ambiguous, who had abdicated their children, brought into the world may be too young both. Inconstant someone at work, constantly tempted by easy money. And then it had been rotting as a result wet to the separation. After Maurice's mother had returned to Buenos Aires with the kids, away from the end of a south could never understand. I had never succeeded in figuring out where to hide each of the three pain, seemingly invisible, because it seemed that after all and now the relationship with Reuben, though scarce, cordial. Mauricio
had long since had finished shaving, but we kept in the mirror, then we heard whining Matthew and I rushed to put the pajamas with much pleasure that I had left off. I took it out of the crib and went to the kitchen. To my surprise they were all awake. Ana Julia, by the stove, heated water to mate. Lying on the counter with delight inspired his cigar smoke, puffing toward a large window that opened onto the veined marble mantel, as if to keep the room air with no pollution. It was a beautiful woman. Not physically resembled his brother or his mother (both features were very Italian), another branch of genetics seemed more Indian features, one that I know. His mother was sitting at the long table in the kitchen. He greeted me warmly and offered me fat crescents tray reigned over a huge cloth Andean colors. He told me that Paul was out with the guys to buy a newspaper.
"Sit down dear.
I finally understand the unexpected decision of Mauritius. Ruben was the birthday and wanted to be in his house without warning Zárate. Struck by surprise with his grandson in her arms, her third grandchild. He was one of those things easily illusions, thinking over the scene with his child's heart, think and feel just how good it could happen. Then there was no way to convince him otherwise. Too easily seen success, although the idea was fetched. His mother respected the decision, with apparent caution, for fear of offending Ana Julia, whose character was capable of ruining any illusion of Mauritius, but without effort let slip that his gesture of satisfaction, imagining also the reunion. Ana Julia was silent, pensive, perhaps annoying. Suddenly, put out the cigarette in the sink and began to talk about plans they had done for the day, and how absurdly would break for doing something that is clearly going to end in disaster. Until his mother, feeling the steps of Mauritius, coming down the aisle, banged the table to silence her.
Matthew decided to leave Buenos Aires. Paul lent us the car and left the city. We lined the July 9 and noticed that the clouds were piling up on the roof of heaven, and though still early, and felt the heat inside the car, my mind about that trip was invalid. He had learned to ride without foundation occurrences of Mauritius, as a defect tolerable, even when the consequences brought us trouble. If I tried to convince him otherwise, arguing examples in which the result had been dismal, I stroked his face with both hands and asked me to help him, not leave him alone, like a small child to the door school. However, at that time, celebrated in silence that he had decided to visit his father. At the end of the day was her father. As we were leaving behind the sharp towers, the iconic Obelisk, the silence was strongest among us. The last thing I said before arriving Mauricio Zárate reminded me that he loved with unconditional crazy.
- then we done before? "But ...
At that time, was somewhat confused by the question, I realized we were going to a place without a plan. "We would stay the night? Was he at home? What happens when we saw another family go?
reach Route 9 to be opened northwest of the country and was lost in Rosario. Mauricio led thoughtful, and I tried to imagine the meeting. Come to the dinner, maybe they were celebrating with friends, with the grandmother, brother, half-brothers with Mauricio and Ana Julia and the second wife of Reuben. As the road began to run parallel to the river Paraná appeared over our heads a green sign with white letters indicating output Zárate. For several minutes, perhaps half an hour we were wandering what I assumed was a neighborhood or outside of the city. Messy streets unpaved, dotted with pools of dirty water, clouds of mosquitoes lurking. The low houses were occurring with the court as colonial, traditional neighborhoods in Buenos Aires bordered on flirtation, but rather evidenced here some neglect. Some children were playing in the street barefoot. I was glad I had not brought Mateo. I felt it would have been too big a commitment for Ruben, meet his son and grandson at the same time. The influence of the river was present in the sticky humidity that began to make us sweat.
Just when I started to think we were lost, Mauricio broke the silence to explain that he knew the way by heart. Who had lived there until age eight, and not bend to have come to the house otherwise different than walking. But it also had no doubt of how to arrive. I would have liked to tell me over the house that was her grandmother (now she lived a few streets away, I said too), I wanted to imitate the numbers and share that with him, but his speech was imposed as a monologue or thought aloud. One day, "he said patting his leg, after two days without appearing for the house, her old man was presented with the idea of \u200b\u200btaking them to live in the south, in the province of Santa Cruz, where he had been promised good job at Swift. Mauricio
I felt slowed down while crouched head trying to find the numbers of doors, or perhaps the time estimated to be missing it started to rain. Suddenly stopped short. He had stopped in front of a single-story house like all of the street. Had a high and glazed door with small windows on the sides, who remained blind to the floor. Thus, since the car was not seen any movement inside the house. Around it was a small courtyard surrounded by a black lattice where they grew to their own creeping plants that were bidding to cover up the worn tiles that served as a road. To the right of the garden was made wider to accommodate a fragrant peach whose main branch hanging something like a swing. Lattice door was also closed. I was struck by the fact that over the handle of the gate outside had threaded a small bouquet of white roses. Mauricio cut the engine and took a deep breath before opening the door. Without lowering the car honked repeatedly. Then there was silence. For a moment I thought maybe this was not the house, or had gone out for lunch. Mauritius fell without saying anything and went through the first door. He walked toward the house, and stood a moment, as if he had forgotten something. Then a thunderclap shook the sky, I saw him shudder. Then followed walking to the door of the house and waited. No rang the doorbell and knocked. Only turned his head toward me, that was already out of the car and beckoned to ring the bell. But he did not. Just spent a few minutes. Silent. Without doing anything. Listening to the conjecture of rain. Finally saw a shadow approaching from down the hall to the other side of the glass. Opened and stared very hard at Mauritius, as if he approved costs. He was a man with white hair without distinguishing clearly looked familiar. Without exchanging words clung to Mauritius and I thought it was sobbing. Then he turned to the hallway and started screaming.
-Reuben idiot is the guy, the kid. Mauricio
I turned to look with his eyes and waved me to go with him, but I did not move. I saw him lean over the man who had to embrace, stand on tiptoe, search again. She burst into rain.
Soon a man dragging a limp appeared also marked by the hall, followed by three or four packages but not distinguished from the street. With a whisper I heard him say: "Hello son
.
In that first moment I found a weak, like a paper figurine about to blow away. His face was serious, almost tired. I found his expression, no resemblance to Mauritius But I recognized his eyes sharp eyes of Ana Julia. Maurice smiled. He laughed that laugh with his generous, unrestrained by joy. They said things monosyllables. They looked up and down. Then I realized it was pouring rain because I had shoes full of water. I ran across the lawn to the front door. In the front I thought I saw a cockroach climbing scared of water.
Then, on reaching the side of Mauritius and take her hand, looking at his father's eyes, I realized that something had happened. A small change, almost imperceptible to an outside observer but transmuted the two protagonists in others, and perhaps changed course of events that night. It was a moment that could silence all, even with the force of the rain and the hum of mosquitoes. Even with the beating heart of Mauritius that I felt in the palm of your hand. The child relaxed smile. His father patted her back and began to speak with new force, as if twenty years younger. Now where was he laughed and put his arm on the shoulders of Mauritius.
"How nice it came right on my birthday. Did you remember? Nice. Are all: the grandmother, the kids, my wife. It will brighten. We were just ... "And she? Ah, your wife. Are you married? I Look you invited. A nice taste. Did you remember to bring me the coins? What are there ESP?
I saw them in ahead of me in the hallway backlight while the man who came to open, smiling, I held the door for her. Behind us the shadows of the end of the day began to spread through the neighborhood like the tentacles of an octopus.
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