Cesar Aira - The Hare

“Of course!” said Juana.

“So why did they say nothing?”

“They were waiting for Cafulcurá to speak first. There are certain codes of honor which determine how things are done in these matters. . ”

“Why didn’t he say anything then?”

“He had his reasons. He preferred to disappear.”

“You mean he decided to disappear? He wasn’t kidnapped?”

“Of course not.”

Clarke was beginning to glimpse the thread linking the complicated events his arrival had set in motion. But he understood that nothing could be explained without returning to the start of it all, to his life and its secret.

“What I don’t understand is why. . why hide me, why send me to England?”

His mother paused for thought, and before she could reply, a man emerged from the shadows and whispered into her ear. She listened, nodded, and told them:

“You’ll have to forgive me, but little Yñuy’s time seems to have arrived. . ”

“Yñuy!” exclaimed Carlos.

“Do you know her?”

“My friend here,” Clarke said, “ has been searching for her ever since we left Salinas Grandes.”

“Well, he’s found her, although perhaps at a rather inopportune moment for any great show of affection. I’m acting as her midwife, and the time has come to offer her my services. Excuse me, please. .”

She left, leaving them so shocked they did not even think to stand up.

“We’ve found Yñuy!” Carlos purred. “I can’t believe it. But Clarke, your story is even harder to believe. You’re Cafulcurá’s first-born! You’ve found your mother and your father! I can imagine how you must be feeling.”

“I can’t think clearly about it yet. This kind of thing only happens in novels. . but then, novels only happen in reality.”

“What do you make of it, Gauna?”

“I’m astounded. I congratulate you both.”

“And there we were thinking you were the one who’d be having a remarkable encounter!”

“I think he will,” Clarke said. “It’s very likely that the Widow is here as well. Do you remember we heard she was looking for a young girl, and that she had finally found one?”

“That’s true. Do you mean Yñuy?”

“That would explain her presence here.”

“Why don’t we go and find those Indians and ask them?” the boy proposed.

“Where can they have got to?” Gauna asked, peering into the shadows.

“Just a moment. Someone’s coming.”

It was Juana Pitiley. She sat down in the same spot as before.

“It was a false alarm,” she said, “she’s still got at least half an hour to go. She’s a very brave girl,” she added, then, glancing at Carlos, “I told her you were here, and she was overjoyed. Would you like to see her?”

“Can I?”

“I think it might be a good way to take her mind off things.” Don’t talk too much.

She signaled to one of the invisible men in the shadows. He got up and led Carlos away.

“One other small thing,” Clarke said. “My friend Gauna Alvear here is brother on his mother’s side of the woman known as Rondeau’s Widow, whom you spoke of earlier. In fact, it was her we came to the Sierra de la Ventana in search of, and just a moment ago we were wondering whether she might not be here as well.”

“She is indeed,” Juana Pitiley said, looking across at Gauna. “This is like a family reunion. Would you like to see her?”

“Yes, I would,” said Gauna.

Another gesture, another Indian stood up, and Gauna followed after him, stiff and ill at ease. Mother and son were left alone together.

“There was something I still had to explain to you,” she said. “We have a little while before those babies decide to come out into the world, so I’ll try to satisfy your curiosity. But don’t expect to understand.”

“A few difficult arguments have managed to penetrate my thick skull.”

“None of them as difficult as this one, I can assure you. In fact, it’s not that it’s so difficult, more that it is such a broad issue. It’s one of those things that the whole of life, with its infinite variety, is insufficient to contain, precisely because that is what it is all about: the variety of life in its entirety.” She fell silent, then after a while began again on what seemed to be a completely different subject: “The Widow is a good friend of mine; and if she is here it’s because I asked her to come. It so happens that this girl Yñuy had a brief romance with one of my husband’s sons, Alvarito Reymacurá, and she became pregnant. After a few months I began to suspect she might be having twins. Although I said nothing, and advised her to do the same, Alvarito must have got wind of something, and he put her under the strictest surveillance. So we planned her escape, just at the moment when you were arriving at Salinas Grandes. Alerted by me, the Widow set out to look for Yñuy, and after a string of adventures finally caught up with her. Alvarito had also set off after her, and we learned you three were on her trail, for reasons we could not possibly imagine. . ”

“It was simply because Carlos thought he was in love with her. But what were your motives?”

“The Piedra royal line is said to be based on twins, twins nobody has ever seen, although my husband encourages the belief that he is the twin of a dead brother. This could be seen as simply another of those harmless fantasies our menfolk are so addicted to, if it were not for the fact that it seriously affects us women. If we really did show them the twins, we would be finished.”

“Why’s that?” asked Clarke. Juana had pronounced her last sentence with such finality he was afraid she would not give any further explanation.

“We can put up with polygyny, war, word games, hallucinogens, shamans. . no one can say we aren’t broad-minded. But there comes a point where we have to draw the line, otherwise we would no longer be women, which would mean the disappearance of a function that is all-important for the Mapuche: the continuation of the species. And that line is the one that separates fiction from reality. On this point, and only this one, we are completely inflexible, and we are not afraid of taking things to their ultimate conclusions, as recent events will have shown you. For the real world to continue to exist, the multiplication of the identical, of repeated images, must remain part of the imaginary world.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t expect you to. You yourself are part of the system of separation. And yet our mechanism, which keeps this real world turning, must have had its effect on you too. Because the dividing line is the sum of all our lives, it offers the possibility of love, adventure, knowledge. It is reproduction. One day you will understand.”

She had pronounced these last words, so typical of a mother, in great haste when she saw another Indian approaching. He bent down and whispered something to her. She looked up at the position of the moon, and stood up.

“This time I’ll wager it’s for real,” she said. “I’m going to Yñuy.”

She went off, and Carlos appeared almost immediately afterward.

“She’s about to give birth,” he said, both excitement and fear in his voice. “She’s having contractions all the time. Poor thing! She’s more beautiful than ever. Do you know she’s going to have twins?”

“Yes, my mother told me.”

“Your mother! Isn’t that incredible? Aren’t you all shaken up? Do something, say something, Clarke, forget your English stiffness for once in your life. You know it could do you harm, it could cause heart failure. If I were you. .”

“What?”

“I don’t know. . I would have thrown myself in her arms, I would have called her ‘mother! mother!’ ” Carlos’s face was streaming with tears again. He jumped about like a man possessed.