Almost Never: A Novel Read Free Page B

didn’t go to bed with Mireya that day—her upset, would she cry for love? mentally shaken by the what-ifs—for he’d already gone to the brothel to find a solution for what had none: the only good that came out of his appointment with the madam was that the next day the fee would return to normal: five pesos. Now to make another appointment as soon as he reached his lodgings, where there was a telephone. One of the few in Oaxaca.
    The temporal stride taken here obeys a desire to avoid obvious foreshadowing, such as the call soon made, the appointment, the agreement on a time and place: all in good course, as it were: without obstacles. Instead, let us make note of the smiles of the grand employee and the grand boss, face-to-face, while—let us say—they both drank punch: nibbled on snacks: mouths chewing as if mumbling. Then Demetrio’s preamble: he stammered; he simply couldn’t find the words for his request, considering his dedication to his work, only to drift, let us say gently, to the great responsibilities the management of … No, not that, no! More stammering. Better to endow his request with valor: straight to the issue of a raise, in a whisper, direct, and then: Yes, that’s fine. I’ll give you a small raise: fifteen percent—how does that sound? Starting in January. In the meantime, a Christmas bonus: tomorrow: which would have been his due anyway and which Demetrio had failed to take into account, so, while licking his lips, he scratched his head three times. Not until January, uh-oh, though he didn’t say it, he thought it. Nevertheless, there was the other: the Christmas bonus … more than enough to pay the madam for the services of she who had surely cried—though not excessively—the previous night.
    Mireya may have ended up crying even more that same night, for at the last minute Demetrio again decided not to visit her. Emotional punishment, or indolence, or fortitude, or an attempt to stem the lavish outflow of cash: which turned out to be simple. It seems the boss had been expecting his request. Be that as it may, we must add that during the meeting neither devoted a single sentence to the daily doings of the orchard. The owner was well aware of his employee’s efficacy. Therefore the finale, both discreetly bowing, neither daring to offer a parting handshake, then the return and spiritual excitement of he who found news awaiting him at the lodging house: a letter. Rolanda handed it to him almost as if it were a red-hot ember; from whom? his faraway mother, she’d gleaned from reading the back of the envelope. Bad or wonderful news? The surprise revealed in total reclusion. Fanciful speculations with each tearing (few) of paper. Then ensued the clumsy unfolding: three per sheet, but even so it is worth noting the scrupulousness of the maneuver. Then he read:
    Dear Son,
    I know you are coming to spend Christmas with me. But I’d like you to come sooner and accompany me to a wedding in my hometown. As you know, because of my age and infirmities, I couldn’t possibly attend such an event alone …
    To explain, his mother lived in the large house she’d inherited along with an ample amount of cash. Accompanying her were servants—a poorly paid woman and man—who did all the usual chores. She’d been a merry widow for five years. Mother of three: Demetrio, the eldest; and Filpa and Griselda, both married to gringos; one from Seattle, a city that is superior, as a world cultural center, to, let us say, Naples; and the other from Reno, a city that is superior, as a world cultural center, to, let us say, Badajoz; that is, they were out in the world, prisoners of marriages or perhaps already adapted and trained to live out their monotonous and well-ordered lives. Of course, they pretended to be strong, especially as they rarely came to Parras, the nicest town in the state of Coahuila, a world cultural center superior to, let us say, Brussels. And, so, things being what they were, Demetrio