Felipe Alfau - Chromos

There he found more people and among them Trini eating heartily. She inquired in a nice hoarse voice with her mouth full: “How is our simpático Paco?”

“All right, and you?” he said, inflating his cheeks to imitate her.

“Never better. Here; help yourself.”

Paco looked at her cynically: “No thanks.”

He entered the smoking room glowing green from the light right above a billiard table. There was Don Mariano, Ledesma and several other old gentlemen. Ledesma always sought the company of older people.

Paco heard Charles Darwin mentioned and immediately turned on his heel and made hastily for the door.

“Wait a moment, Paco, wait a moment, don’t run away.”

“You are discussing serious topics and you know that I. ”

“Come over here, we need your advice. By the way, you have not met General La Calle yet”

The general stood on tiptoe trying to disguise his height. His eyes drooped at the sides and gave him a permanently afflicted air. Paco looked the general over and one side of his face shrank sympathetically: “I don’t think he has suffered that one more imposition.”

“Well, this is Paco Serrano, General, and he knows more about women than the whole bunch of us together.”

The general made a doubting sound and his eyes drooped further.

“We need your advice, Paco.”

“If you boys are still in need of advice, it is not mine that will help you.”

“Be serious! General La Calle insists that women should be granted the same rights which men have. A rather drastic view for a military man, don’t you think?”

“But what have women done to deserve such a fate?”

“Never mind that. Ledesma here claims they would not know how to use those rights. What do you think?”

“In matters of women, it is better not to think but act.” Paco looked at the group of old men insinuatingly and they all laughed.

“What did I say?” Don Mariano exclaimed: “He knows more about them than the whole bunch of us.”

The general did not like to have his theories taken so lightly. The conversation changed.

“And tell me, General, why didn’t your daughter Corito come today? I have not seen her around.”

“She had an accident this morning and is resting up.”

Everyone assumed an expression to suit the circumstances.

“Yes, she fell down the stairs and,” with a martial gesture he pointed with his finger to a spot on his own anatomy, “hurt herself right here.”

“The devil you say! Right in the best part too!” said Paco distractedly. The drooping eyes of the general became those of an infuriated bloodhound and Paco came to: “You’ll excuse me now, won’t you, gentlemen?”

Outside the room he met Julieta and held her hand: “Listen, Julieta. It is unbearable not to be able to see you without all this chaperoning. You don’t know how I want you.” He was talking close to her. “Is there any way we can be together? Alone? You will not repent, I assure you.”

“It is impossible, Paco. You know how I would like to. but it is impossible.”

“We must marry right away, then. Anyway, Mother is coming tomorrow to ask officially for your hand. By the way, do you know that Father died in San Sebastian last week?”

“What?” she gasped.

“Yes,” he went on quietly. “That is why Mother will come in his place. After that. I hope we don’t have to wait long. I want to tell your mother so that they will expect her.”

Julieta was looking at the charming gentleman before her as if he were very puzzling.

The marriage of Paco Serrano and Julieta Sandoval was one of the brilliant affairs of the season. They were both popular and well liked. The Sandovals were happy with the wedding. Paco was running for deputy and faced an enviable future. After their return from their honeymoon trip, Don Mariano and Doña Rosario gave the newlyweds a beautiful villa situated in the Street of Lealtad near the Prado, one of the truly beautiful spots in a central residential section of Madrid.

These happenings marked the retirement of Don Mariano from business. He and Doña Rosario moved to the villa with their daughter. Madame Serrano, Paco’s mother, also came to spend some time with them. Don Mariano left the jewelry store in the hands of his son Fernando and Ledesma continued to administer and supervise the business.

Paco furnished their new home beautifully and hired the service with care. There was not a single good-looking maid in the house and the butlers and grooms seemed to be ready for the old men’s home. The only young one had a very high-pitched voice.

Paco seemed to care sincerely for his wife, and as for Julieta, marriage was the realization of a long wish. She felt as if she had discarded a tremendous burden and naturally regarded Paco as the one responsible for her happiness, as the one who had brought her this new joy of living. Now, in full womanhood, she had entered marriage with deep sincerity and eagerness. Upon returning from her honeymoon, her younger friends had crowded her, demanding savagely:

“Tell us, tell us all about it.”

And she answered flatly: “Don’t be so curious about such things. It is not good for you.”

At La Gran Peña, where he seldom came now, a friend asked Paco: “Serrano, you certainly have grown serious with marriage. How is that?”

“Why not? Marriage is a serious thing.”

“I bet there are many broken hearts since your wedding. But I cannot believe that you are entirely true to your wife.”

Paco, sunk deep in the chair, answered with a sigh: “My dear fellow, I have nothing left to be untrue with.”

“And so forth and so on,” Garcia concluded and flipped over a few pages, making those humming noises people often make when skimming over reading matter. “I am not too satisfied with this and want to work on it some more.”

I suspected he knew that the passage that followed might not meet with my approval and that his appraisal of my standards might be degenerating into something more depreciating than flattering, but that he hoped to get around me eventually, and I made a mental note of stiffening my stand.

Garcia stacked the sheets lightly against the table and resumed:

Don Mariano Sandoval was very old. Everyone knew that he was going to die soon. He did not know it, but he told everyone that he was going to die and everybody told him that he had never looked so healthy in his life. For the last ten years he had been saying that he was going to die soon, but now they all knew that he was right. He did not know it though.

Julieta’s first baby, Luisito, cheered his last moments. The old man lived only for the child. Fernando and Trini were jealous of Luisito. After Enrique, they had had a girl, Rojelia, who was about the same age as Julieta’s boy and already showed a short curly mane of red hair, but the grandfather paid little attention to her. He only liked Luisito. He said it was the only thing that held him here, the only reason for living, but nevertheless the child hastened the old man’s departure from this world.

They played incessantly, strenuously. The child was lively as an eel and Don Mariano grew fatigued and sat on a chair exhausted, choking from asthma.

One night the child woke up very sick and one week later was on his way to the cemetery escorted by other children and by his grandfather.

When old man Sandoval returned from the burial he said: “This has killed me.”

Julieta, crying as she had never cried before, said: “No, Father. You must not leave us too. There is another one coming. You must wait to see it.”

But old man Sandoval shook his head: “That child was the only thing I had to live for. It has killed me.” And it did.

Thus the older generation of the family began to fade. Madame Serrano— Paco’s mother — died soon after from cancer, and Doña Rosario followed her husband one year after his death.