Felipe Alfau - Chromos

He protested heatedly that this was not the case, that the passage was not sicaliptic, but simply bold and real and that it showed more artistic integrity by not shrinking from facts no matter how objectionable and that it was very relevant indeed as he expected to develop from it the subsequent neuroses of the heroine.

That is what he said and also some other things, but I argued against literature that attempts to gain popularity by appealing to the same giggly and prudishness-on-vacation spirit as does a dirty joke, whose lack of humorous merit is easily exposed by cleaning it up, and our argument descended to almost childish acrimony. To the devil with the neuroses of the heroine. It would be simpler to develop it from an early fall on her head when she was a baby. However, and to clinch things, I said that if I had anything to do with the translation, I would not tolerate any more of such passages which could only offend the ears of the English reader and create the wrong impression about our fair sex and our country where we can be as mid-Victorian as the best. I ended by pouring myself a smug fathom of the brandy.

Garcia glanced at the bottle and me: “There is also some regular whiskey if you want any.”

I had had my say and calmed down, so I kept my peace and told him that he did not have to get me drunk in order to read to me.

“I thought it might wash away some of your old-fashioned ideas and loosen up your inhibitions.”

“Never mind my inhibitions. You just go ahead and read.”

He turned over five pages, no less, and then:

All this created a strong bond of friendship between Julieta and Trini. The maid was the most intimate companion of Julieta. She was her confidante, shared her emotions and became indispensable to her. Between them a strange relationship was developing and who knows where it would have ended had it not been for the interfering incidents which follow.

Fernando Sandoval discovered one good day that his sister’s maid was exceedingly likable. He assayed one or two tentative advances which met with but a very weak rebuff and the siege began. He spied on all her movements, approached her whenever the opportunity presented itself and forced his attentions mercilessly behind every conspiring door or portiere until she rushed away to the safety of her mistress’s room.

Once, as she came out of that room, she met Fernando in the corridor. Her naturally pink complexion was glowing with a flush of excitement. Fernando made for her hungrily and held her in his arms.

“No. please. Señorito. oh God!”

She could resist no longer and met Fernando brutally, pressing herself against him with all the force that mighty nature can command at times. It was a nerve-shattering kiss. She experienced the sensation of rolling backwards and sinking in an abyss where she could exercise no control, a wonderful, wonderful abyss, and by force of instinct, as anyone who sinks, she pressed more that which she held.

Their love affair progressed rapidly from then on. She was no longer free. She was entirely at his mercy.

At first they did not leave each other a moment’s peace. It was a tempestuous affair. To live in the same house, to have constant opportunity to love in a clandestine manner, acted like a whip on their desires, urging them, driving them to one another. Trini seemed to have forgotten Julieta. Those conversations and intimate sessions which had constituted their mutual delight ceased abruptly. Trini limited herself to her strict duties as a maid and had resumed her position in regard to her mistress cruelly. If Julieta broached the subject they used to like so well, Trini answered:

“Don’t think so much about those things. It is not good for you.”

Julieta could not understand what had happened to her maid and this was the first emotional shock, a strong shock to her tense feelings.

In the house everybody had noticed more or less the change in Fernando’s behavior. No one can help noticing a person whom one has scarcely seen for years and who suddenly appears at the dinner table every night and then does not even rush out. Even Don Mariano noticed it and once said to his son while at dinner:

“What is the matter, Fernando? All this sudden seriousness? Have you repented like Saint Francis for all your worldly sins? Are you getting ready to enter a convent?”

“No, it is nothing particular, simply that Madrid life is getting boresome, always the same thing over and over again. Haven’t you noticed it?”

“Me? No! I never notice those things.”

“I decided to take a little rest. That’s all.”

“Hmm — it does not seem to agree with you at all. You look paler and thinner than ever.”

“I? Why, I never felt better in my life.”

“Perhaps it is my imagination and you really are redder and fatter. I have not seen you for such a long time that I almost forgot what you looked like, but I have a vague recollection that you looked healthier.”

“That is because I was much younger then.”

Fernando grew uneasy. He began to view the matter from a different angle. His meetings with Trini began to take place outside the house at a certain dwelling in the Street of Jardines where a discreet lady accommodated any couple in a cozy room, but this too was difficult. In Madrid too many people could recognize them.

He had thought that he could enjoy the young maid for a while and then tire of her. But she clung to him. Every day she grew more passionately in love. She was a perfect pleasure machine and Fernando became hopelessly entrapped.

His meetings with Trini were more difficult and dangerous. He was now in love with her and the once enticing situation became unbearable. He wanted to have more of her, to have her all to himself, somewhere where he could love her freely all he wanted. He resented her subordinate position as a maid, to see her treated as such. This made him realize things which he did not want to realize and as a consequence began to consider his family as an obstacle.

By this time he used to help his father at the jewelry shop sporadically. He would go in and work on the books or help wait on customers. Of late he had worked more regularly.

Once he was in the store alone with Ledesma. Ledesma was always in the store, always at his post like a good watchdog. He was administrator and had full control of the business. Ledesma was still quite young but he was so serious that he looked much older. He had always been understanding. He spoke in a low voice, in a sententious manner, but seldom advised. He was loyal, perhaps too loyal. This was the drawback. But he loved all the Sandoval family more than they loved each other among themselves. Fernando went to Ledesma.

He told him everything. He explained his whole situation thoroughly and Ledesma listened attentively. Fernando was almost in tears and then he asked Ledesma to let him take a large sum of money in order to go away, to say nothing and then he would replace it somehow.

Ledesma was not indignant; his voice was a little lower, more sententious: “I could not do that. Even if no one ever found out. I could not do it. It is not my money.”

“But it is in your custody. You can do as you please. Father has implicit faith in you.”

“That makes it impossible. I am here to guard your father’s interests.”

“But I tell you I am mad. I am living in hell. If I can’t take Trini away from this I’ll blow my brains out. I have tried to fight it but it is impossible. I can’t help myself, please, please!”

Fernando offered a pitiful spectacle. He had fallen on his knees embracing Ledesma’s legs and crying like a child. Ledesma felt for him, but he was inflexible. He helped Fernando rise and steadied him:

“Yes, you are mad, my boy, but this kind of madness will pass if you try and let others help you. Why don’t you speak to your father. ”