Felipe Alfau - Chromos

She was very grateful that time and he asked her to go out with him to a movie or for a walk, anything, and she said that she could not do it that night because she expected two other men, but that she would be glad to do it any other time and not to forget to ask her again and to give her a rain check. So now that he was going to this party, he called her and asked her to come along with him and she accepted but said that she would have to leave by midnight because she had another business date then, and because his funds were low as usual, he had to check an impulse to tell her to forget business that night and he would make it up to her. However, he felt very elated at their going out together like any two human beings.

So they went to the party and he did not have a very good time there. The men all insisted on talking Spanish and the girl and two other girls there had little to say. Once, one of the fellows walked with one of the girls into one of the other rooms and there was some laughter and Fulano thought of putting his arm around his girl, but he felt that this would be taking advantage between business hours and she might resent it and he felt morose and drank some more instead, and anyway he wanted to show her that he did not like her only for that. Then it was midnight and the girl had to go. He offered to escort her, but she said that she could manage by herself and for him to stay and have a good time with his friends, and one of the men asked for her telephone number and she passed that off with commendable delicacy.

After she had been gone some time, someone who was roaming about from room to room as people sometimes do in such circumstances claimed that an unopened bottle of liquor was missing and that she must have taken it. Fulano came to her defense with drunken truculence and said that if necessary he would pay for the bottle and was told that there was no need to grow so upset and insulting.

In the end the bottle turned up behind a chair where one of the fellows had placed it to save for when they ran out of drinks. After that he felt more out of place than before and he also went home.

He did not see the girl for several days but about a week after this, he had the dream. He was walking with her on a square with a great big house at one end that was all boarded up except for the entrance, and they went in. The corridors were immense, like avenues with other corridors like streets running across them and the whole place was dark and there were many doors that led into pitch-black rooms. They soon were lost in this maze of corridors and then saw a very faint light and walked toward it. Following the light they turned into a side corridor that ended against a wall and there was a small glass dome on the ceiling from which daylight came. Right underneath the light and on the floor there was a bucket of white paint and a pile of discarded telephones, their black dusty surfaces splattered with white specks. A noise was coming from the telephones that was like the cooing of doves, but on listening carefully, one could make out some words: “Hello, honey. Is that you? Hello, hello—” like the cooing of doves: “Will I see you this evening?” — “Hello, honey, hello— Will I see you this evening, darling?” — “Hello, honey, hello, honey — hello — hello — hello—” Like the cooing of doves.

He explained to her with all honesty that these were old conversations trapped in the broken wires and the explanation satisfied them both, and they went out of the house without difficulty.

They came out into another plaza, but this one was oval in shape and was illuminated by street lamps. There were no buildings around, only a wall, but he knew that this was the Puerta del Sol in Madrid and that they had been in Spain all along.

She said: “I know that nobody likes me here. I am going away.”

He said: “I will walk with you. It is not your fault. I think you are fine.”

They walked out one end of the plaza and came out on a road that passed in front of the entrance. The road ran between masses of trees. The sky was very dark on top, like an enormous awning of black clouds, but it was clear all around the horizon and it was from there that the yellow light came to cast the shadows of the trees across the lonely road. They walked on it a few steps and then stopped. There were two stone pillars on each side of the road hung with black crepe.

Again she spoke: “This is as far as you can go. I must go the rest of the way alone.”

He stood there looking at her walk serenely along the road between the walls of trees, under that hostile dark sky, and a breeze that came from the same direction as the light played on her dress and on her hair and on the tree leaves.

The day after he had this dream, he called her up and was told that she had been taken ill to the hospital where she had died soon after. This was the first time that one of his dreams could be considered a premonition, but he thought that it must be only coincidence and that things like that are bound to happen, but life would be more interesting if one could believe more in premonitions.

This experience affected him excessively and depressed him for several days, and for a while he thought that he was in love with the girl.

“—Yes sir,” came the voice from the Moor. “The pillars of Latin civilization: garlic, the chamber pot or the bidet. No real civilization without these things.” And Garcia, who had moved his plate next to me, protesting: “Please! You are indeed Don Pedro el Cruel. Wait at least until I finish— Please, some other time.” And in my ear through clenched teeth: “He does it on purpose. I tell you, he has the strangest type of cruelty. It is the Moor in him.”

Past the moving figures I caught a glimpse of La Colombina and the Señor Olózaga, two of the few still sitting at a table. She had found a cordobés and was wearing it. The cordobés is one of the few items of man’s apparel which is especially becoming to women, probably because they wear it with their hair done up in a bun at the back of their head, which fully realizes the knotted-up coleta of the bullfighters who wear it when out of uniform. One could look at that woman for hours without tiring.

I missed the voice of Don Pedro. On the table was his unfinished dish of peppers and meat — in chunks— I looked around but could not see him anywhere. The Señor Olózaga had also left his privileged place and disappeared, but his position had been taken by several people who were talking to La Colombina.

Darkness had filtered gradually and one of the waiters went about with a chair, climbing on it and lighting the farolitos.

There was a rattle on the stairs leading to the cellar and soon there appeared the Señor Olózaga and the Moor carrying large baskets full of bottles. Don Pedro was having a laborious time of it with his lame leg, his shillelagh under his arm and both hands occupied.

“Careful there, Moor,” said the Señor Olózaga. “This is a special load.”

“One more step, Chink, and excelsior!” They emerged on the top step and Don Pedro declaimed: “Careful, everybody. The gates of hell have opened and the devil is coming out with bottles full of genii.” He turned to some waiters that followed with more baskets of bottles: “Place those by the windows. Come on, Chink. Let’s place these on our table.”

They laid the baskets on the floor and began placing bottles of assorted sizes and contents on a table next to ours, until there was scarcely room for anything else:

“Look at the pretty skyline— Until now El Telescopio was in Manhattan, but now Manhattan is in El Telescopio — the situation reversed, the world inside out. The absurdity typical but the results good. Nothing to it. You know? We had to weed the good from the bad. Most of the stock downstairs is junk, but we managed and I think the Chink knows his rum and he thinks now that I know my wine, but I know little about rum and he knows little about wine, so how can we tell about each other? Of course, the national system — never fails. Talk of things one knows nothing about — the perfect simplification. Well, Chink, ready now?”