Swift as Desire Read Free Page A

they were brilliant thinkers. All of them were loaded with virtues and could claim multiple talents and abilities. Júbilo somehow believed that his father preferred talking to his brothers and sisters than to him, that he liked their jokes better than his, that he valued their achievements over those of his youngest son.
    Feeling ignored and wanting to stand out any way he could, he dreamed of being a hero in his father’s eyes, and what better way to achieve that than by becoming a telegraph operator? Júbilo knew he possessed a special gift for hearing and transmitting messages, so the work couldn’t be that hard. He yearned desperately to be a telegraph operator. What did one need to do to become one? Where did one study? For how long? The questions shotfrom his mouth like skillfully aimed bullets and the answers came back just as quickly. What excited him most was finding out that to be a telegraph operator, one had to learn Morse code, a mode of communication that very few people knew. Everything was looking great! Since only he would know what was said to him in the messages that he was to transmit, he would be able to translate them in his own way! He could already see himself appeasing lovers, arranging weddings, and ending all kinds of animosities. Without a doubt, he was going to become the best telegraph operator in the world. He felt it from the bottom of his heart. And the proof lay in the way he had repaired the relationship between his mother and his grandmother. Mastering Morse code couldn’t be any more complicated than that. Besides, he felt he possessed a gift. He knew perfectly well that his ability to “hear” people’s true feelings wasn’t shared by everyone. What Júbilo wasn’t then able to see, however, was that his greatest gift would, over the years, become his greatest misfortune, that being able to listen to unrepeatable secrets, wishes, and desires wasn’t as wonderful as it seemed, that being aware of what other people felt at every moment would come to cause him a lot of headaches, and huge disappointments in love. But in that early moment of laughter and happiness, who was going to tell Júbilo that life was difficult? Who could have warned him that he would end up lying in bed, in a near vegetable state and incapable of communicating with those around him? Who?

    “
¡H OLA
J UBIÁN ! H OW ARE YOU ?”
    “Well, I am …”
    “
Mi compadre
, you look pretty good to me.”
    “Well…I…can’t …”
    “What’s the matter, do I look that bad?”
    “No, don Chucho, what my father means is that he can’t see you, not that you look bad, you just didn’t let him finish.”
    “I’m sorry,
compadre.
You speak a little slowly and I got ahead of myself.”
    “That always causes problems. The other day Aurorita, his nurse, asked him if he wanted to go to the dining room to eat, and my father said yes, but first he wanted to go to the bathroom. So Aurorita helped him into his wheelchair, took him to the bathroom, helped him to his feet, and started to open his zipper. Then, slowly, my father said, ‘No…I just want…to wash my hands.…’ Aurorita laughed and said, ‘Ay, don Júbilo, then why did you let me open your zipper?’ And my father answered, ‘Well, because I thought you had good intentions!’”
    “
¡Ah, mi compadre!
You haven’t changed, have you?”
    “Ha…ha…No…why should I?”
    “Listen, don Chucho. Was my father always such a joker?”
    “Always…right, Jubián? He’s been like that ever since I met him.”
    “And when was that?”
    “Oh, I don’t even remember, I think your father was about nine and I was about six. He had just arrived from Progreso, I think, because the export company where your grandfather worked had closed down. But I can still see in my mind what he looked like the first time I saw him, newly arrived from the train station, standing there next to his suitcase. I remember noticing that he was wearing short pants, like a