Chapter 1 (1) These places are changing with each passing day, and they already have fairies wearing crowns. ——Leandro Dias That was certain: the smell of the bitter almonds always brought back memories of the end of a love affair.Dr. Juvenal Urbino realized this the moment he entered the half-dark room.He had rushed there to give first aid, but the thing that had haunted him for so many years was irreparable.The Antilles exile, disabled soldier, child photographer, and chess rival Dessainte Amoul, who has a close friendship with the doctor, has now used the gas volatilized by gold cyanide to Completely freed from the torment of memories.

Doctors saw the body lying on a cot, covered with a blanket.Amoul had always slept on this camp bed during his lifetime.There was a bench next to the camp bed, and on the bench was a small bucket, which was used to vaporize drugs. On the floor lay a white-chested black Great Dane, strapped to the leg of a cot, with a cane beside it.The suffocating clutter of the room, which was both bedroom and studio, was dimly lit by the light of dawn through the open windows to instantly recognize that he was indeed dead.The other windows and door gaps were tightly covered with rags or sealed with black horse manure paper, which added to the depressing atmosphere in the room.Inside, there was a wooden table piled high with phials and unbranded perfume bottles.Under an ordinary spotlight covered in red paper were two pewter kegs, their skins peeling off.A third bucket, containing fixer, was next to the body.Outdated newspapers and magazines were thrown everywhere, glass plates were piled with negatives, and the old furniture was in a mess, but under the care of those hardworking hands, everything looked spotless.Although the air from the window freshens the air in the room, those who know the inside can still feel the resentment and secret pain of the unhappy love with the smell of bitter almonds.Urbino had thought more than once without warning: It was really not a suitable place to leave the world in response to God's call.However, as time went by, he finally realized that the neurological disorder of the deceased might be due to a secret order of God.

The chief of police arrived first with a young student who was doing a forensic practice at the municipal clinic, and it was they who opened the windows and covered the body before Dr. Urbino arrived.The director and the student greeted the doctor solemnly, and the doctor came this time more out of sympathy than out of respect, because no one knew the depth of his friendship with Amoul.The medically skilled professor shook hands with the chief of police and the young intern just as he shook hands with his students every day before the clinical class began, and then firmly pinched the edge of the blanket with his index finger and thumb, As if treating a flower, the blanket was lifted slowly and carefully as usual.Stiffly bent, eyes open, the naked body was bluish as if fifty years older than it had been the night before.His pupils are transparent, and his beard and hair are yellow.There was an old scar on the belly, poorly stitched up.His body and arms, tortured by the crutches, were as thick and strong as those of a convict sentenced to rowing, but his dead legs were like those of a helpless orphan.Dr. Urbino gazed with an expression of pain which he had seldom seen during the long years of his futile struggle with death.

"Stupid that the worst thing has finally happened." He covered the corpse again with a blanket and regained his distinguished professorial air.When he celebrated his 80th birthday the year before last, he celebrated with great excitement for three days. When he delivered a speech, he once again resisted the temptation to resign."I'll always have plenty of time to rest when I die, but the fluidity of death isn't on my agenda," he said. His right ear is becoming more and more useless, and he uses a crutch with a silver handle to cover up Shanshan's steps. He still looks young, wearing a set of linen clothes and a waistcoat, on which hangs a Gold watch chain.His mother-of-pearl Pasteur beard and hair of the same color, sleekly combed and parted in the center, were a faithful reflection of his character.

The memory loss made him more and more disturbed, and he had to write things down on small slips of paper at all times so as not to forget them.As a result, there were too many little notes in his pocket and they were indistinguishable, just like medical instruments, medicine bottles and other things were jumbled together in his overstuffed suitcase.Not only was he the oldest and most eminent doctor in town, he was also the best dressed.However, his too obvious wisdom and the way he used his authority not too modestly made him not be loved and respected as he should be. His instructions to the chief of police and the trainee were precise and prompt, and no autopsy was necessary.The smell in the room was enough to determine the cause of death: some kind of light-sensitive acid caused the volatilization of active cyanide in the container.But the deceased Amoul himself was a veteran in this field, and he would never be negligent in such matters.Seeing the hesitant expression of the chief of police, Urbino cut him off decisively in his typical manner: "Remember, I am the one who issues the death certificate!" The young doctor was also disappointed: He never had the opportunity to study the properties of gold cyanide by autopsy.Dr. Urbino was surprised, having not seen the student in medical school, but quickly understood from his shy face and Andean pronunciation: perhaps he had just come to town.He said: "Here, in a few days, some madman in love will give you a chance." As soon as he said this, he immediately realized that there were countless suicides with cyanide in his memory. This was the first among men to commit suicide not from love.Then he changed his tone a little: "When this happens to you, be very careful," he said to the intern. "In the heart you can often find metal particles."

Then he talked to the chief of police as a superior would to a subordinate, and told him to bypass all formalities so that the funeral could be held that afternoon without anyone noticing it.He said: "I will talk to the mayor in the future." He knew that Amoul was a very frugal person, almost primitive, and the money he earned from his crafts was enough to maintain his life. Therefore, in one of his There should be deposits in the first drawer, more than enough for a funeral. "However, it doesn't matter if you can't find it." He said, "All expenses will be borne by me."

Although he knew the press would never be interested in the news, he informed the reporter: the photographer had died of natural causes."If necessary," he said, "I will speak to the prefect." The chief of police, a well-mannered and courteous public official, had long heard that Dr. Urbino's sternness could overwhelm even his closest friends. Bear. He was amazed at how easily he skipped all the legal formalities and rushed to arrange the funeral.The only thing the police chief did not agree to was to consult with the bishop to have Amoul buried in the holy place.He regretted his intransigence and begged the doctor's forgiveness.

"I know this man is a saint," he said. "Not only a saint, but a little queer," said Dr. Urbino, "an atheist saint. But that's God's business. On the other side of the colonial city, the bells of the cathedral sounded from afar, beckoning people to High Mass.Dr. Urbino put on his half-moon pince-nez and took out a delicate square pocket watch, whose cover was gently lifted by a spring: he had almost missed the Pentecost Mass. In the living room, a gigantic camera sits on wheels like the ones under the railing in a public place."Sea at Dusk" is painted on the curtain, which is the handwriting of craftsmen.The surrounding walls are filled with pictures of the children and marked with dates that mark the occasion: first communion, wearing a bunny mask, a happy birthday.

Dr. Urbino, through the afternoons when he came here to play chess, year after year, in meditation, has seen the walls of this living room gradually covered with photographs.He had thought of it many times, not without pain, in the exhibition room where the photos taken together were displayed.Conceives a future city that will be governed and corrupted by those elusive children, while his honor will be shattered. On the desk, next to a ceramic jar containing several Seawolf pipes, lay a game of broken chess.In spite of his urgent business and his very gloomy mood, Dr. Urbino could not help studying the game.He knew that it had been played the night before, because Amorul played chess every afternoon and had to find at least three different opponents.However, every time he finished playing the chess, he packed the chessboard and chess pieces into a box, and put the box in the drawer of the desk.He also knew that Amoul had always held white in the game, and in that game, within four moves, white would definitely lose. "If he was killed, this is a strong evidence." He thought to himself.

"I know that only one person can set up such a clever kill." Why did that stubborn and unyielding warrior who was used to fighting to the last drop of blood suddenly let go before finishing the last game?He felt that if he did not understand the reason, it would be meaningless for him to continue living. At one o'clock in the morning, when the watchman was on his last patrol, he saw the following words marked on the door facing the street: "No need to knock, please enter, and please inform the police." When they arrived, the two searched the room, trying to find the source of the bitter almond smell.However, within a few minutes of analyzing the broken game, the police chief found among some papers on his desk a letter addressed to Dr. Urbino.

The envelope was sealed securely with sealing wax.The seal must be torn to remove the letter.The doctor opened the black curtain to let the light in, and then quickly glanced at the eleven pages of densely written letter paper with beautiful fonts on both sides.From the first paragraph he knew he was on par with Pentecost.He read, panting excitedly, going back and rereading several times to connect lost threads.When he read the complete letter, he felt as if he had returned from a very distant place in the past.As much as he tried to pull himself together, he still couldn't change his dejected look.His lips were blue, and with trembling fingers he folded the letter and put it in his vest pocket. Now he remembered the police chief and the young intern, and smiled at them with a pained expression. "Nothing in particular," he said. "Just some last orders from him." This half-truth won their confidence completely, because they lifted a movable tile on the floor according to his orders, and there they found an old book with the combination to open the safe.The money is not as much as they imagined, but it is enough for burial and other trivial matters.Dr. Urbino realized at this point that he would not be able to make it to the cathedral before preaching the Gospel. "This is the third time I've missed Sunday Mass since I can remember," he said. "But, God will forgive." Thus, he preferred to delay for a few more minutes in order to settle all the details, although he could not wait to share the secret of the letter with his wife.He said he would inform the large number of Caribbean refugees living in the city to test their willingness to pay their final respects to the most revered, active and radical deceased, despite the obstacles he had apparently bowed to and not overcome A stumbling block in his way.He will also inform the chess friends of the deceased. Among these chess friends, there are famous professional players and unknown pawns.He was also planning to inform some lesser friends, because they might come to the funeral.Before seeing the suicide note, he decided to be the first to attend the funeral, but after reading the suicide note, he is not sure of anything.Anyway, he's going to send a wreath of bonsai flowers!Maybe Amorur regretted it for a while in the end.The funeral was scheduled for five o'clock, which is the most suitable time in the hot season.If he wanted, he could go from twelve o'clock to the country house of Dr. Racides Oliberia, his favorite student, who would celebrate his twenty-fifth year of practice with a sumptuous lunch day. When the stormy years of his first army service were over, Dr. Urbino became a very easy-going man, and he acquired unparalleled esteem and prestige throughout the province.As soon as he crowed, he began to take some secret remedies: potassium peroxide for refreshing; salicylate for rheumatism; ergot drops for fainting; belladonna for insomnia.He eats uninterruptedly, but always secretly, because during his long career of practicing medicine and teaching, he has always opposed prescribing symptomatic medicine for the elderly.It was easier for him to endure the pain of others than his own.He always carried camphor crystals in his pocket, and when no one was looking, he took them out and took a deep breath to dispel the fear of mixing so many drugs. He usually stays in the study for an hour, preparing for his general lectures at the medical school at 8 o'clock every day from Monday to Saturday until the eve of his death.He was also an avid reader of new literature sent by his Parisian bookseller or ordered for him from Barcelona by a local bookseller, although he did not attach as much importance to Spanish as he did to French.In any case, he never read literature in the morning, but for an hour after his afternoon nap, and a little later at night before going to bed.After preparing for the lesson, he faced the open window and did fifteen minutes of breathing exercises in the bathroom.He always does exercises facing the direction of the crowing rooster, because the fresh air blows from there.Then he bathes, shaves, and sticks his beard in the rich scent of real Italian perfume.He wore a white linen shirt and trousers, a waistcoat, a bonnet, and goatskin boots from Córdoba, Spain. At eighty-one, he still retained the dash and gaiety of his return from Paris shortly after the cholera epidemic.His hair was parted in the back and neatly combed. Except for the color becoming metallic, it was the same as when he was young.He eats breakfast at home, but he has his own set of rules: a cup of bitter gourd soup is good for the stomach, and a head of garlic is added.He eats garlic and always chews the bread petals carefully, in order to prevent the heart from suffocating.After teaching, he often went to participate in legitimate social activities, or to meet Catholics, or to engage in research on some topic in art or society. He almost always eats lunch at home. After the meal, he sits on the flower bed in the yard and plays for ten minutes. In his dreams, he listens to the maids singing under the leafy mango trees and the cries of vendors on the street. Listen to the roar of diesel engines and motors in the harbor.The sound echoed around me in the hot afternoon, like a condemned angel in his crucifixion.Next, he would read for an hour new books, especially novels and histories.He then taught the parrot to speak French and sing.Over the years, that parrot has become a charming entertainment in the home.At four o'clock, after downing a large glass of lemonade with ice, he was out for his rounds.Despite his advanced age, he refused to receive patients in the clinic, but, as always, he went to the patients' homes to treat them.Since the municipal construction has become more and more complete, he can go anywhere by horse-drawn carriage. After he returned from Europe for the first time, he traveled in a family carriage driven by two jujube horses.This carriage broke down, and he replaced it with a two-seater four-wheeled carriage driven by a single horse.When the carriage began to be outdated and used only for sightseers and funeral wreaths, he still rode in it, and was quite proud of its antiquity.Although he refused to retire, he knew in his heart that people would not come to ask him unless they had an incurable disease.He thought that was a specialty, too.He can tell what disease a patient has just by looking at it.He distrusted medicine less and less, and was appalled by the popularity of surgery.He said: "The scalpel is the greatest proof that medicine is ineffective." He believes that, strictly speaking, all medicines are poisons, and 70% of common medicines are accelerating death. "In any case," he often said in class, "there are not many good medicines known, and only a few doctors really understand their properties." Activists.He said: "Everyone's death is their own destiny. The only thing we can do is to help them end their lives without fear and pain when the time comes." However, although these radical views have constituted An integral part of local medicine, his erstwhile pupils continued to consult him even after his official practice, as they acknowledged the accuracy of his diagnoses.In any case, he has been a rare and rare doctor, and his patients are concentrated among the noble families of the Governor's District. His daily work was so organized that if something urgent happened during his afternoon visits, his wife would know where to send him a message.From a young age, he would stop at the parish coffee shop before returning home, so he learned a good game of chess from his father-in-law's friends and some Caribbean refugees.But from this century onwards, instead of going to the parish coffee shop, he intends to organize national games sponsored by social clubs.At this time, Amoul came, he was paralyzed in the lower limbs, and he was not engaged in children's photography at that time.In less than three months, his superb chess skills made everyone look at him with admiration.He is especially good at playing "bishop", and no one has ever defeated him in a game of chess.For Dr. Urbino, it was an adventure.At that time, he was obsessed with chess, and there were not many opponents who could satisfy him. Dr. Urbino became his unconditional protector and vouched for everything he had, without even inquiring into who he was, what he was doing, what kind of war he had left crippled and dazed in some dishonorable war. Appear here.The doctor lent him money to open a photo studio, and Amomar, from the time he took flash photos of the first frightened child, paid him every last penny. Everything comes from chess.At first, they played chess at seven o'clock after supper, and the doctor was slightly better, because the opponent was obviously also very good at chess.Later, the advantage of doctors became smaller and smaller, and finally they were evenly matched.After Mr. Galileo da Comte opened the first movie theater, Amoroul became one of its most punctual audiences, and the game of chess was limited to nights when there were no movie premieres.At that time, Amor and the doctor were inseparable friends, so the doctor went to the movies with him.But doctors never take their wives with them to the movies.This was partly because she had no patience for the twists and turns of the plot, and partly because the doctor, with his keen senses, thought that Amoroul would not be anyone's good companion. The life of a doctor on a Sunday is different.He went to church to attend high mass, and then returned home to rest, or read a book on the flower bed in the courtyard.If there is no serious emergency, he rarely sees the doctor on this day reserved for himself.For many years, he never accepted social obligations unless it was absolutely necessary.On Whitsunday, by an accidental coincidence, two years of extraordinary events came together: the death of a friend and the celebration of a distinguished student's twenty-fifth year in the profession.Even so, he did not go home straight after confirming Amor's death as he had expected, but was led elsewhere by curiosity. As soon as he got in the car, he couldn't wait to read the suicide note again.He asked the coachman to take him to a hard-to-find place in the old slave quarters.The decision was so anomalous that the coachman wanted to make sure he was right. Yes, the address is clear, and there is good reason to say that the person who wrote it knew it well.Dr. Urbino reread the first pages of the suicide note, again basking in the flood of unwelcome revelations.Life could be changed, even at his age, if Amoroul could convince himself that those words were not the dream of a desperate man. Early in the morning, the sky became stern and changed color, with dark clouds and a cold wind, but there was no sign of rain before noon.In order to find a shortcut the coachman drove up the rocky and uneven heights of the colonial city, so that he had to stop several times so that the students and congregants returning from the Whitsunday service would not startle the horses.There were paper garlands in the streets, bands played, flowers were everywhere, and girls with colorful parasols and tulle streamers stood on balconies to watch the festive procession pass by.On the church square, between the African palm trees and the new spherical street lamps, the statue of Simon Bolivar, the liberator of Fuzhou, can hardly be seen clearly.As soon as Mass was over, people flocked out of the church, blocking the car exits and filling the venerable but noisy parish café.Dr. Urbino's carriage was the only one.This carriage was very different from the few other carriages left in the city.Its patent-leather folding top was always kept bright and shiny, with copper corners to protect it from saltpeter.The wheels and shafts were painted red with gold trim.This kind of dress reminds people of the costumed night when the opera is staged in Vienna.Besides, where ostentatious families would allow their coachman to wear a clean shirt, he required a soft velvet uniform and a circus beastman's top hat.In addition to being outdated, this kind of clothing also seems to lack some compassion in the dog days of the Caribbean. Though Urbino loved the city eccentrically and knew it better than anyone else, seldom had he ventured as unhesitatingly as he had on that Sunday in the tumult of that old slave quarter.In order to find that place, the coachman had to go around and stop several times to ask directions.Doctor Urbino recognized at last the foul and gloomy bog nearby, its ominous stillness, the stench of its drowned corpses that had haunted the dawns of countless sleepless nights and the jasmines in the courtyard. The aroma mixed with the wafting into his bedroom.He felt this stench blowing past him like a gust of wind yesterday, and it had nothing to do with his life.But that stench, so many times idealized by his nostalgia, became an unbearable reality when the carriage began to jolt along the dirt roads of the street.On the muddy ground, several vultures were vying for the offal dragged from the slaughterhouse by the anchor.As opposed to the stone houses in the Governor's Quarter, the houses here are made of old lumber and zinc.Most of the houses are built on wooden piles to prevent sewage from flooding when the gutters flood.Those gutters were inherited from the Spaniards.Everything presents a picture of poverty and desolation.But now and again from the dirty taverns came the merry and deafening music of the poor who had nothing to say about God or the commandments of Pentecost.When they finally found what they were supposed to be looking for, groups of naked children followed closely behind the carriage.They laughed at the coachman for his actor-like attire, and the coachman had to whip them and drive them away.One thing Dr. Urbino, who was about to make a secret visit and to have his privacy told, realized too late was that there is no naivete more dangerous than that of his age. It was a house without a number, and from the outside it was indistinguishable from poorer homes, except for the windows with lace curtains and the door which had been dismantled from some old church. . The coachman knocked on the door knocker and called for the door. He didn't help the doctor out of the car until he found out that the address was correct.The door was gently opened, and an adult woman stood in the dark doorway.Dressed in black, with a red rose in her ear, she is still a striking mulatto woman despite being over forty years old.She had stern golden eyes, and her hair was tightly pressed on her skull like a helmet of wire.When playing chess in the photo studio, he had seen her appear several times among the many beauties in the future, and once he had prescribed some bags of Cinchona cream for vivax malaria for her, but at this time Urbino The doctor did not recognize her.He reached out to her, and she took his hand with both hers, pulling him more than greeting him.The living room is filled with fragrant flowers and plants, filled with furniture and exquisite items, and everything is arranged in the right place, which is pleasing to the eye.Dr. Urbino recalled without difficulty the shop of an antique dealer in Paris at XXVI rue Montmartre on an autumn Monday in the last century.The woman sat down opposite him and said to him in poor Spanish: "You feel at home here, doctor." She said, "I didn't expect you to come so soon." Dr. Urbino felt that the woman already knew her identity.He looked her up and down carefully, and noticed that she was dressed in a heavy filial piety, and her expression was painful and serious.Only then did he realize that the interview was futile, because she knew more about the details of Amorul's suicide note than he did.That's exactly what happened.She had been with him in the hours before his suicide, as she had been with him for twenty years, tenderly and faithfully.No one in this sleepy provincial capital knew about that matter, even though even state secrets could not be kept from the public here.They had met at Porter Oprince's Charity Hospital.She was born there, and it was there that he spent his first days in exile.A year later, she followed him here for a brief visit.They disagreed, but both knew he was here forever.She goes to him once a week to clean and tidy up the studio, but even the worst-thinking residents do not confuse appearance with fact, because they, like everyone else, believe that Amoul's disability is not only in As for walking, even Dr. Malbino is certain of this from a medical point of view.The doctor would never have believed that he had a woman if Amoroul had not disclosed it himself in his suicide note.In any case, it was incomprehensible to him that two free adults who did not know each other's history, got rid of the prejudices of a conservative society, and chose the road of silent love by luck.She herself explained, however, that she liked it, and that, besides, the man had never been entirely hers, with whom she was secretly in love, and more than once they had experienced moments of explosive bliss, which seemed to her justifiable, on the contrary, life It has been shown to them that perhaps this is the most admirable way. The night before yesterday, they went to the cinema together, bought tickets separately, and sat in separate seats.They've been there at least twice a month since the Italian expatriate Galileo da Conte opened the open-air cinema on the ruins of a seventeenth-century monastery.The day before yesterday's movie was outdated, but it was based on last year's bestseller.Dr. Urbino read this book with a painful heart, because the author described the war so cruelly.The title of the book is No Miracles on the Front Lines.Then they went to the studio together, and she found him distraught and melancholy, which she thought was caused by some scene in the movie: the dying and wounded soldiers struggling in the mud, it was unbearable to watch.She wanted to dispel his emotions, so she invited him to play chess.In order to please her, he agreed, but absent-mindedly—of course he used Baizi.Then he realized that with four moves to go he was going to lose, and surrendered dishonorably.Only then did the doctor understand that it was her and not General Jerónimo Argote, as he had thought, that was playing against her in the last game of chess.He was so surprised that he muttered to himself: "This game of chess is wonderful!" She insisted that the credit for winning the chess was not hers, but Amoul, who had been so dazed by the news of death that he had no mood to grasp the pieces.When the game was interrupted, he begged her to leave him alone.It was about a quarter past eleven, for the music in the ballroom had stopped.He wanted to write to Dr. Urbino, whom he considered the most respectable of his acquaintances, and who was also his dear friend.As he was fond of saying, "He said of him even though the only thing they had in common was the game of chess. He saw chess as an intellectual confrontation rather than a science. She knew then that The end of Amorul's life had come, and his life was limited to writing a letter. The doctor could not believe it when he heard these words. "So you knew he was going to die then?" he exclaimed. She testified that she not only knew, but was very willing to help him share his pain, as she had helped him find happiness with the same affection, because it was his last eleven months: a cruel death throes. "It is your duty to denounce him," said the doctor. "I can't do that to him!" she said angrily. "I love him so much." Dr. Urbino listened to this unknown story as if it were an adventure abroad, and she told it so directly that he could not help looking at her intently, trying to imprint her image at that time forever in his memory.She stood there like an impassive sea god in black, with snakelike eyes and a rose in her ear. Many years ago, after they had made love, the two lay naked on a deserted beach in Haiti, and Amooul suddenly sighed: "I will remain young." A heroic struggle to the death, but he further explained: "I have decided to leave this world at the age of seventy, and I will never regret it." Sure enough, he turned seventy on January 23 of this year, so he set the deadline on the eve of Pentecost, which was the biggest festival of worship in this city.She knew every detail of that night in advance.They often talk about that together.As time passed, they were devastated and heartbroken over the irreparable situation.Amoul loves life with numb passion, loves the sea, loves his dog, and is naturally infatuated with her and love.As the date approached, he despaired completely, as if his death had not been his own decision, but the arrangement of inexorable fate. "He quietly said goodbye to the world last night when I agreed for him to stay alone," she said. She wanted to take the dog away, but when he saw the dog drowsy on the crutches, he stroked it with his fingertips and said: "I am sorry, but Wilson will be with me." When he wrote , asking her to tie the dog to the leg of the cot.However, she made a slipknot so that it would come loose naturally.That was her only act of treachery, but it made sense, and she hoped to always remember its owner from the dog's cold eyes.Dr. Urbino interrupted her to tell her that the dog did not escape.She said: 'It's not willing to do that. At this moment, her spirits were suddenly alive, because she preferred to honor the memory of the late lover in accordance with Amoul's wishes. He was writing a letter, suddenly stopped writing, looked at her one last time, and said : "Remember me with a rose. " It was just after midnight when she got home.She lay on the bed with her clothes on and smoked, lighting one cigarette butt on another, smoking one after another in order to wait for him to finish writing the letter.She knew the letter was long and difficult to write.Nearly three o'clock, when the dogs started barking, she made coffee on the stove, dressed in full mourning, and went out into the yard to cut the first roses that bloomed at dawn.Dr. Urbino had long since realized how much he hated that hopeless woman. He has his reasons: only the cynical get satisfaction from suffering. At the end of the interview, she told Dr. Urbino some more things.She did not want to attend the funeral, because she had promised her lover in this way, but the doctor believed that there was a passage in the letter that said the opposite.She won't shed tears, and she doesn't want to torture herself by remembering the tragic death in her lifetime.Nor does she shut herself up and weave shrouds, which is commonplace among local widows.She was going to sell the house in Amorul.根据他在信中的遗嘱，这所房子连同里面的东西从现在起都属于她了。她将象往常那样继续生活，安分知足地生活在这块穷人的葬身之地上，因为她在那儿度过了自己的幸福日子。 在回家的路上，那句话一直回荡在乌尔比诺医生的耳际：“这块穷人的葬身之地。”这个评语是有道理的。那座城市，也就是他所居住的城市，尽管岁月流逝，旧貌仍在：炎热，干燥，充满恐怖的夜晚，享受着独居乐趣的年轻人。在那里，花朵凋谢，食盐发霉，除了月桂树正在日渐萎败和人们正在烂泥塘中慢慢地衰老以外，这座城市四个世纪以来没有发生过任何变化。冬季，阵阵突降的灾难性暴雨使厕所漫溢，把街道变成令人作呕的沼泽地。夏季，一种刺鼻的、有如鲜红的粉末似的看不见的尘埃被狂风吹荡着，透过哪怕堵得再严实的缝隙钻进屋里。可怕的狂风可以掀走屋顶，把孩子们吹到空中。在星期六，那些黑白混血儿吵吵嚷嚷地乱纷纷地离开在泥沼地边上用马粪纸和锌皮搭成的棚屋，带着家畜和炊具，来到殖民区多石的海滩举行他们的欢宴。在那些最年迈的人中，有些人不久前胸脯上还留着用烙铁打上的印记，这是真正的奴隶的标记。周末，他们疯狂地跳舞，豪饮家酿烈性酒，喝得酩酊大醉后在椰林中自由寻欢。星期目半夜时分，他们便以一场全体出动的血腥格斗来代替方丹戈舞。在一周的其它日子里，这一股浩浩荡荡的人流又涌进了老区的广场和小巷，摆起小摊，做各式各样的生意，他们使死气沉沉的城市变成了散发出煎鱼香味的热闹非凡的集市；展现一种新的生活。 摆脱西班牙统治，以及随之而来的废除奴隶制，加速了王公贵族们的衰落，而乌尔比诺医生正是在那种环境中出生和成长的。昔日的名门望族静静地呆在他们撤去防卫的宫殿和城堡里，深居简出。在一度十分有效地防止了海盗突袭登陆的用石块砌的城墙上，杂草沿着墙头爬了下来，在石灰粘缝的墙上打开裂缝，哪怕它是本市最豪华的府邸。下午两点钟，这些府邸唯一有生气的标志就是在午休的昏暗时刻传出无精打采的练琴声。里面，在充满香气的凉爽的卧室里，女人们躲避阳光就像躲避瘟疫那样。即使在做早弥撒的时候，她们也用毛巾蒙着脸。她们的爱情来得又迟缓又艰难，而且往往被不祥的预兆扰乱，生命在她们看来是无尽头的。傍晚时分，在交通拥挤的时刻，黑压压的长脚坟子从沼泽地里飞起来，好像一团团乌云，追赶着路上的行人。同时，难闻的人粪尿味也从那儿涌来，热乎乎地扑到人脸上，扰得他们心烦意乱，确信那是死神送来的信息。 年轻的乌尔比诺在令人忧郁的巴黎常常怀念的那座殖民城市的生活，此刻也只不过是记忆中的一场幻梦。在十八世纪，它的贸易在加勒比海地区是最繁荣的，尤其是由于它的令人诅咒的非人的特权——这里是美洲最大的黑奴市场。此外，它还是新格拉纳达王国总督的传统驻晔之地。总督们喜欢呆在那儿，面向世上的大洋进行统治，而不愿意住在遥远寒冷的首都，生怕首都连绵不断的毛毛雨打乱他们对现实的理解和认识。满载波多西、基多和维拉克鲁斯的巨大财富往来于美洲和西班牙的大船队，一年几度要在这里的港口汇集，那是这个城市最荣耀的黄金时代。一七八年六月八日，星期五，下午四点钟，圣约瑟大帆船载着时价五千亿比索的宝石和贵金属起航，开往加的斯，刚出港口就被一支英国舰队击沉，直到漫长的两个世纪以后还没有打捞上来。那批躺在海底珊瑚间的财富和斜着身子漂在指挥台上的船长的尸体，经常被历史学家们作为那座被淹没在记忆中的城市的象征提及。 乌尔比诺医生的家坐落在港湾另一边的拉曼加住宅区。那是一幢旧式房子，一座宽大凉爽的平房，室外平台上建有陶立克式的柱廊，从平台可以看到散发着瘴气、布满遇难船只残骸的水塘。从门口到厨房，地板上都铺着黑白相间的方格瓷砖。不止一次，这一建筑都归因于乌尔比诺医生的别出心裁，而忘记了那是本世纪初叶，建筑那个暴发户住宅区的加泰隆尼亚建筑师们的共同弱点。宽敞的客厅象家中所有的房间一样，天花板很高，临街有六扇落地窗。客厅有一扇巨大的石色古香的玻璃门和饭厅隔开，上面雕着茂密的葡萄藤和一串串的葡萄，还有金色的林中牧神和受他的芦笛诱引的姑娘。客厅里的家具，包括活哨兵似的壁钟在内，都是清一色的十九世纪的英国货，吊灯上装饰着水晶坠子，苏雷斯的各式花瓶和异教的石膏情人小雕像处处可见。但是，那种欧洲家具在家里的其他地方并不多见。在别的房间里，既摆着藤制扶手软椅，也有维也纳摇椅和当地手工制作的皮靠背椅。卧室里除了床，还有圣?哈辛托的豪华帆布躺椅。躺椅上用丝线以哥特文字绣着主人的名字，四周还垂着彩色的流苏。饭厅的一旁有一块地方，原来是用来举行盛大宴会的，后来成了小音乐厅，每当出色的演奏者来到本市时，主人便邀亲朋好友来开音乐会。花瓷砖地面上铺着从巴黎万国博览会上买来的土耳其地毯，为的是使环境更为幽静。近处摆着整整齐齐的唱片架，放着一台时新的电唱机。在房间的一角，有一架用马尼拉大披巾盖着的钢琴，乌尔比诺医生已有多年不弹琴了。这个家里，到处可以看出一个务实的女人的精明和操劳。 然而，最庄严肃穆的地方要算书房了。它可谓乌尔比诺医生在进入老年以前的圣殿。那里，在他父亲的胡桃木写字台和皮革安乐椅四周，镶满一道道上过釉的搁板，把墙壁甚至窗户都遮得严严实实。搁板上整整齐齐地放着三千册书，全部用小牛皮精装，书脊烫金。其它房间都充满港口的喧闹和污浊空气，书房恰恰相反，它有着修道院的宁静和芬芳。乌尔比诺医生和他的妻子是在加勒比海海边诞生和长大的，那儿有一种迷信的说法：打开门窗可以引进实际上并不存在的凉爽空气。所以起初他们关在那座书房里感到呼吸局促。但是，最后他们终于相信了罗马人对付炎热的好办法，就是在闷热的八月，白天把门窗全部关闭，不让街上的热空气进来，晚上有风时再把它们统统打开。从那个时候起，他们的房子就成了拉曼加区炎炎赤日下最阴凉的所在了。在卧室的昏暗中睡午觉，下午坐在柱廊上观看新奥尔良满载货物的沉重的灰色货船和水船通过，真是一种美好的享受。这些木船一到黄昏就点燃起全部灯火，呜呜地鸣响着，清除滞留在港口的垃圾。每年十二月份至翌年三月份，来自北方的信风掀开屋顶，夜间象饿狼似的在屋子周围呼啸不止，打着转转寻找缝隙企图钻进屋里时，乌尔比诺的书房也是保护得最好的。谁都不会去想，住在那样一幢房子里的夫妇有什么理由会是不幸福的。 尽管如此，乌尔比诺医生在那天早晨十点钟赶回家时并没有感到什么幸福。两次拜访弄得他心神不安，脑袋昏昏沉沉。这两次拜访不仅使他误了圣灵降临节的弥撒，而且有可能使他变成一个和他心力交瘁的年龄不相称的另一个人。他本想在跟拉西德斯?奥尔贝利亚医生一起用丰盛的午餐之前睡个午觉，但是仆人们却在乱哄哄地追捕一只脱笼飞走的鹦鹉。仆人们把它从笼子里抓出来，想替它剪翅膀，它却冷不防飞到了芒果树最高的枝上。那是一只秀毛的怪鹦鹉。训练它讲话时它死不张嘴，但有时却愣头愣脑地自言自语起来。眼下它开了胜，而且那种清晰的语调和才智，即使在人的身上也是不常见的。鹦鹉是乌尔比诺医生亲自驯化的，这使官享有全家人谁都没有的特权，就连他儿子在小时都没有这种特权。 鹦鹉已在医生家里养了二十多年，谁也不知道它以前活了多少年。每天下午午睡之后，乌尔比诺医生坐在院中的花坛上，与鹦鹉为伴。花坛是家里最凉爽的地方，他以教育家的热情，勤奋地训练那只鹦鹉，直到它能象大学教授一般讲地道的法文。 之后，纯属对它的过分宠爱，医生又教会它用拉丁文为做弥撒伴唱，并背诵《马太福音》的一些片断。他还企图给它灌输算术上的加减乘除四个概念，但是没有成功。 在他最后几次到欧洲旅行时，有一次他带了一个有喇叭的留声机，还有很多流行唱片和他喜欢的古典作典家的唱片。在几个月之间，他让鹦鹉日复一日地听吉尔布特和布鲁安谱写的歌曲，这两位作曲家上个世纪在法国曾红极一时，鹦鹉终于把他们的歌曲背熟了。它能用女人的嗓音唱女士歌曲，用男高音唱男士歌曲，唱到最后还来一阵纵声大笑，跟女仆们听它用法语唱歌时的哄笑不差分毫。这个鹦鹉的美名远扬，几乎无人不知，以致某些从内地乘船来的贵客都来求见。有一次，几个英国旅游者不惜一切代价要把它买走。那个时期，许多英国旅游者都乘新奥尔良的海盗船打那儿经过。然而，鹦鹉最荣耀的一天是共和国总统马尔科?菲德尔?苏阿雷斯带着他的全体内阁部长屈尊驾临，他们想来证实一下它是否真的象传说那样神奇。他们大约在下午三时到达，头戴大礼帽，身穿呢料大礼服，这一身打扮使他们热得透不过气来。他们在赤日炎炎的八月，在整整三小时的访问中，不曾有片刻宽衣。他们乘兴而来，败兴而归，因为在令人难以忍受的两个小时中，鹦鹉始终一言不发，请求和威胁都无济于事。乌尔比诺医生羞愧得无地自容，因为他对妻子明智的劝告置之不理，固执地发出了鲁莽的邀请。 在那一历史性的轻举妄动之后，鹦鹉仍然保持了它的特权，这一点，证明它在这个家庭里始终享有神圣的权利。在那个家里，除了陆龟之外，不准豢养任何动物。 那陆龟曾失踪过三、四年，人们以为它一去不回了，可后来又重新出现在厨房里，不过，人们并不把它看成生灵，只把它看做交好运的含矿物质的护身符。至于这个护身符到底起不起作用，谁也说不清楚。乌尔比诺医生拒不承认他憎恶动物，他用各种科学的杜撰和哲学的遁辞来掩饰这一点。他的那些冠冕堂皇的道理征服了许多人，唯独没有征服他的妻子。他说，如果谁爱上了动物，就会对人类做出最残忍的事情来。他说狗并不忠诚，而是奴性十足；猫是机会主义者和叛徒；孔雀是死神的传令官；兔子使人贪心；猴子能传染色情狂；而公鸡是罪该万死的东西，因为它们甘愿三次拒绝为基督效劳。 他的妻子费尔米纳?达萨却相反，那时她已七十二岁，不能再如从前那样外出狩猎，但她对热带花草和家养动物着实爱得发疯。刚结婚的时候，她利用方兴未艾的爱情，在家中养了许多动物，简直有点违反理智。最初饲养的是三条以罗马皇帝命名的南斯拉夫达尔马提亚狗，它们为争风吃醋互相残杀。争夺的母狗不愧叫梅萨利娜，因为它刚产下九个小狗就又怀了十个。以后又饲养了阿比西尼亚猫，它们有老鹰的外貌，法老的风度，逞罗人的斜眼，波斯王朝大臣的橙色眼珠。夜晚，它们象幽灵的影子一般在卧室里窜来窜去，发情求偶的叫声搅得人们难以入梦。有几年，院子里芒果树上挂着一只亚马逊长尾猴，它被拦腰捆着，委实令人同情，因为它有着奥布杜利奥大主教和国王的悲天悯人的外表，天真的目光，还有一双富有感染力的灵活的双手，但是费尔米纳并非因此而抛弃了它，而是因为它有以向贵妇们献殷勤而自鸣得意的坏习惯。 在走廊上的笼子里，她养了各种各样危地马拉小鸟，家中还养了先兆鸳鸯和黄色长腿的泥塘里的鸳鸯，以及一头小鹿，这只小鹿经常从窗口探进头来啃花瓶里的花枝。最后一次国内战争前不久，当第一次传说教皇可能采访时，他们从危地马拉弄来了一只天堂鸟。可是，当获悉政府宣布教皇来访只不过是用来吓唬密谋反抗的自由人的谎言时，那只鸟便被送回它的故上去了，而且回去得比来时还快。另有一次，他们在荷属库拉索奥岛的走私者的帆船上买了关在铁丝笼里的香乌鸦，一共六只。这些乌鸦和费尔米纳小时候在娘家驯养的一模一样。她结婚后仍然想养这种乌鸦。但是，那些乌鸦不停地拍击翅膀，使整个家里弥漫着丧仪花圈的气味，谁都忍受不了。他们还养了一条四米长的蟒蛇，这个不服猎手的飒飒声扰乱了寝室夜间的安宁，尽管他们利用它达到了自己的目的：用它那死神般的呼吸吓跑骗幅和珠爆，以及多种在雨季侵入家中的害虫。乌尔比诺不仅职业上忙得不可开交，而且还有许多社会文化活动，所以照他看来，在那么多令人讨厌的生灵中，只要他的妻子不仅是加勒比海地区最漂亮的女人，而且是最幸福的女人，他就知足了。可是，在一个雨天的下午，当他结束了一天的工作疲惫不堪地回家时，看到的一场悲剧使他重新回到了现实生活。从会客室直至视力所及之处，一长排动物的尸体漂浮在血泊之中，女仆们爬到椅子上不知所措，对这场大屠杀惊魂未定。 事情的起因几条德国大猎狗中有一条突然得了严重的狂犬病，失去了理智，见什么咬什么，亏得邻居家的园丁胆略过人，挥起砍刀把它杀死。不知那条狗咬死了多少动物，也不知它用绿色的唾沫传染了多少动物，因此，乌尔比诺医生下令对全部幸存者枪杀勿论，并把它们弄到一个偏僻的处所烧掉。他还请慈善医院的工作人员到家里来进行了一次彻底消毒。唯一得救的是一只象征好运的雄陆龟，因为谁也没有想到它。 费尔米纳史无前例地在一件家务事上称赞丈夫做得有理，此后许久也没有再提动物的事。她拿林奈的帕然史》彩色插图作为消遣，使自己得到慰藉。她把那些彩色插图镶上镜框挂在客厅里，倘苦不是一天黎明盗贼砸开浴室的窗户偷走了一套五代相传的银制餐具的话，也许她终身再也不愿意在家中看到一只动物了。乌尔比诺医生在窗外的铁环上加了双领，用铁门闩把大门插得死死的，把贵重的东西锁进保险柜，并且从此培养了睡觉时把手枪放在枕头下面的战时习惯。然而，即使盗贼把他们洗劫一空，他也反对买一条恶狗来看家，不管那狗是否接受过防疫注射，也不管是把它放开还是用锁链挂起来。 “不会说话的东西不准进咱们的家11。”'他说。 为了不再让妻子啧啧叨叨地纠缠，乌尔比诺医生说出了这句斩钉截铁的话。他的妻子固执地想再买一条狗，压根儿没想假如狗在家中一条一条地繁殖起来，终有一天会使她丧命。费尔米纳的任性，随着年龄的增长也逐渐地变了，她立即抓住丈夫话中的漏洞，在家中被盗几个月后，重新回到库拉索奥海盗们的帆船上，买来了一只真正的帕拉马里博鹦鹉。这只鹦鹉只会说水手们的骂人话，可是它说得跟真人一模一样。十二个生太伏的价钱虽说贵了点儿，但还是很值得的。 那是一只良种鹦鹉，比想象的还要聪明。它黄脑袋，黑舌头，这是跟曼格雷鹦鹉的唯一不同之处。曼格雷鹦鹉即使用松节油栓剂也不能让它们学会说话。乌尔比诺医生是个有气魄的男子，他在妻子的才智面前心悦诚服地认输了。那只鹦鹉的进步使他兴趣盎然，他对自己的转变也感到惊讶。一到雨天的下午，鹦鹉由于羽毛浸湿而感到惬意，便说一些从前的老话，这些话在这个家里是没人说过的。后来，医生态度上的最后一点保留也取消了。那是一个夜晚，盗贼打算从屋顶平台的天窗上钻进来，鹦鹉居然用猛犬的吠声把他们吓跑了。它模仿得非常逼真，它还高喊有贼，有贼，有贼，这两个有趣的呼救的词儿也不是在这个家里学的。从此，医生亲自负起照料鹦鹉之责。他吩咐在芒果树下面搭个支架，放一个盛水的小碗和盛熟香蕉的容器，外带一个吊杆，供鹦鹉练走绳索的本事。从十二月到翌年三月，晚寒袭人，北风使鹦鹉在户外不能居住时，他们便把它装进一只罩着毛毯的笼子，让它睡在卧室里，尽管乌尔比诺医生知道它的慢性鼻疽病对人的正常的呼吸是有害的。多年以来，他们总是把它的翅膀剪短，把它撒在院子里，让它象个老骑上似的弯着身子，自由地踱来踱去。但是，有一天它在厨房的横梁上兴致勃勃地做起了杂技演员的动作，一下子掉进了木薯香蕉肉菜锅里。它吱吱喳喳地呼叫求救，幸好厨娘用大汤勺把它舀了起来，虽说热汤把它的羽毛烫掉了，它还是活了下来。从那时开始，甚至在白天，他们都把它关在笼子里，尽管人们常说关在笼子里的鹦鹉会忘掉学会的东西。只有在下午四点钟天气凉爽时才把它放出来，由乌尔比诺医生在院子的花坛前给它上课。谁也没有及时注意到它的翅膀长得太长了，那天早晨女仆们正准备为它剪翅膀，没想到它居然飞到芒果树冠上去了。 她们费了整整三个小时还没有捉住它。在邻居的女仆帮助下，她们用了种种办法想把它骗下来，也无济于事，它继续顽固地停在原地不动，还放声大笑，使劲地高呼自由党万岁，扯蛋的自由党万岁。这种胆大妄为的呼叫，近来已经使四、五个幸福的醉汉送了命。乌尔比诺医生望着在茂密的树枝间肆无忌惮的鹦鹉；用西班牙语、法语、甚至拉丁语规劝它，鹦鹉则用同样的语言，同样强调的声调，同样的音色来回答他，赖在那儿一动不动。看到好言相劝无效，乌尔比诺医生便吩咐求助于消防队员，他们是他在本市的最新的玩具。 确实，不久前，火灾都是让声愿人员架起泥瓦匠的梯子，用水桶来泼水扑灭的，他们的秩序是如此紊乱，以致造成的灾难比火灾更为严重。但是，前年开始，由于公共福利社——乌尔比诺医生是这个团体的名誉主席——的募捐，这儿有了一个职业消防队和一辆配有警报器、警铃和两条高压水龙带的贮水卡车。一切都是现代化的。当听到教堂敲钟报警时，为了让孩子们看消防队救火，学校甚至宣布停课。最初，消防队的任务只是救火，但是乌尔比诺医生告诉市政当局，他在汉堡看到消防队员们曾救活了一个在三天大雪之后冻僵在地窖里的孩子，他还在那不勒斯的一个小巷里，看到消防队员从第十层楼的阳台上把一具装着死人的棺材运下来——因为楼梯弯弯曲曲，家人无法把棺材抬出来。这样，这儿的消防队员便学会了其它紧急服务项目，如撬锁开门和杀死毒蛇。医学专科学校为他们专门开了一般事故急救课。 因此，请消防队把一只跟绅士一般具有种种美德的高贵鹦鹉从树上捉将下来自然也是义不容辞之责。乌尔比诺医生说：“请告诉他们，这是我的鹦鹉。”说罢他便去寝室换衣服，准备出席丰盛的午宴。事实上，这会儿他已被阿莫乌尔的信弄得昏头昏脑，并没有把鹦鹉的命运放在心上。