Happy Families_ Stories - Carlos Fuentes [34]
I have an enormous empty space. That’s what I have.
He said this and stumbled, falling on his face over the rug that still smelled of urine, and at that moment the dog was exiled to live tied up, howling with melancholy, in the courtyard.
HE BEGAN DISPUTING TERRITORIES WITH ME. He began extending his control over the closet, the bed, the bathroom, the TV, and I kept telling him your seclusion doesn’t free you from the big cold world Álvaro (but really tell him that Cordelia) you’re a child (don’t be afraid of him Cordelia) you let yourself be judged too easily (you pick up the sections of the paper tossed to the floor and put them in order so you can feel victorious) you go around imagining what they’re saying about you (tell him) what they think of you (think about it).
I’M AT A LOSS FOR WORDS.
You talk a great deal.
Inside, I’m silent.
HE MADE A POINT of masturbating in front of her. He laughed. He said, pleasures known to Onan unknown to Don Juan.
Did you think convention would control me? he said when he was finished.
No. What an idea. Not even love subjugates you, Álvaro.
I told him many things.
Will you let me tell you the truth?
No.
Excuse me. You’re too weak for me.
Ah, you bitch. I’ll show you . . .
I can endure only one tyrant. Myself. My own tyrant, Álvaro.
Shall I tell you something? Why you’re so twisted? Why you never travel a straight path?
I’ll ruminate on that, Álvaro.
This drove him crazy. He began to shout, tear his hair, ruminate, ruminate, he shouted, that’s what cows say, why do you use those highfalutin words? why do you always talk like a well-bred girl? why do you constantly want to prove your superiority to me? because I was just a promising young man and you took charge of locking me away here . . . ?
You locked yourself away . . .
I locked myself away with you . . .
Nonsense.
You frustrated my ambition.
Just realize it, that’s all.
I didn’t become what I wanted to be.
You locked yourself away, I’m telling you . . .
I could have been somebody . . .
You are somebody. You’re my husband. Isn’t that enough?
It’s your fault I’m a nobody.
What would you have done without me?
Become what I could have been.
Ah yes! The things I didn’t do to please you . . .
Without you, Cordelia . . .
DIRTY CLOTHES dropped and forgotten. Floors slippery with forgotten filth. Toilets overflowing with shit. Sheets stained with blood. Rats conspiring in the corners. Spiders keeping watch from the ceilings. Cockroaches smoking marijuana in the kitchen. The sweet stink of abandonment. Without you. Without me.
I DREAMED I met you as a young man at a dance. A far-off dance long ago. Strauss waltzes. Tails. Crinolines. Cordelia Ortiz and her dance card. The line of suitors. A continental summer dance. Warm, distant, perfumed. Cordelia Ortiz and her blond curls arranged like tassels of wheat. Ah, how I desire her. Ah, how she charms me. I’m not even on her card. But I’m in her sight. She dances with someone else but looks at me. I’m the only one not wearing tails. I came unexpectedly. I’m dressed as a peasant. I can’t stop looking at her. I get her to look at me. Now we don’t stop looking at each other. Her eyes enslave mine. My eyes magnetize hers. We don’t know if we’re living for an instant or imagining an entire life. When she dances, she’s so graceful, so fresh, so beautiful that measures of time disappear. She is now. She is always. She turns my internal clocks upside down. She concentrates all the time I’ve lived or can live. She makes me feel I don’t need to go anywhere because now I’m here. She is my years, my months, my hours, in a minute. She is my place, all the spaces I’ve traveled through or can travel through. I am no longer divided. I am entire in myself and with her. I don’t need to have her in my arms. The young Cordelia dances with others but looks at me. When I came in, I was an indeterminate man. From now on, she determines me. I understand this in a flash and already begin to hate her. With what right is this woman I don’t even know going to