Chapter 13 -2

There is not only one God, but one God is enough to make one man fall, so that all fall at the same time.The telegram signed by Skadi informed her that the "Daily" would relieve her of all duties with immediate effect on one or the other terms.If Reina understands correctly, the newspaper has fired her on the grounds of causing losses to the newspaper and unexcused absenteeism, and the newspaper said it has denied her any right to claim compensation. In the future, she will live a life of starvation, nothing to do, and a bleak future.The newspaper had left her with nothing; but with Hermann, she had everything.She doesn't think like her mother: It's better not to wake up, because the world is misery and ugliness, ugliness and misery.She has to rise up against her misfortune, to regain herself, to restore the indestructible Reina.

Just then, the phone rang. "Honey, what the hell happened to you? Where did you come to the conclusion that you couldn't go to Rio?" It resented Hermann's frivolity in speaking without touching all the anxieties that Reina had already told him.She hated him, but loved him at the same time. "It's best off the phone. I need you! You hear me? I need you!How many times do I have to say that? "Reina, don't be childish!We agreed: meet tomorrow morning in Rio, shall we?I have a job here and I can't let it go.You also have something to investigate. Why change plans suddenly with twenty hours left? "Herman: Someone plotted against me.Right here, in my own home.

can you understand "You are now in your own home, not a hospital: that's how I understand it. If your home has been burglarized, go to Rio!I use love to make up for everything others have taken away from you.Besides, the damage doesn't appear to be very serious.You have a great voice wow. ""I tell you seriously.Never in my life have I told you with such seriousness as today: Hermann, I am in a bad situation.I don't travel anymore. I can not go. "Herman's voice suddenly became ruthless, suddenly like an ice cone on a mountain. "I can't change the plan. I've been preparing for this interview for two months. You don't want me to postpone it any more.

I hope you don't delay either. " "From Rio to Buenos Aires, there are seven or eight flights a day. The air flight is only two hours. You can leave tomorrow night and return early the next morning. Doesn't that allay your concerns? "No, Reina.I am forty years old this year.I never—do you understand? ——I have never let a woman manipulate me!Honey, don't be self-willed.If a romantic night is what you're after, Copacabana Beach is better than the estuary in Buenos Aires.If you don't want to go to Rio now, there is another time.There will always be a next time. "

Reina gritted her teeth and said, "What a fool I am!" "I don't want to be so hard on you. Come on, tell me. What happened?" "Hermann, I love you. That's why I came to you. I love you without questions or conditions. It's easy to tell you what happened; but you must trust me. I beg you. Here, because of the needs of the matter itself, I have to come here." "Reina, I love you too. But I never obey other people's desires. Never! Ever since I left home at nineteen." "My case is not a desire. It is a need, a need. Or, if you want me to put it more clearly, a fatal misfortune."

"But it was me who made the decision. I decided: not to go to Buenos Aires. If you love me as you say, I will wait for you tomorrow in Rio.If not, then meet elsewhere later.We have a whole lifetime to go. "You mean forever? " "Yes. Tomorrow, the day after tomorrow." "Tomorrow? I've always found that word ridiculous. There's no tomorrow!" When she hung up the phone, she felt nothing but emptiness and weariness: a boundless wilderness that used to be the end of the world.She felt spiritually exhausted: what the twin saviors called the "spirit" was probably at the edge, at the precipice; every form and experience was denied and affirmed.Nietzsche wrote that the negation of a negation can constitute an affirmation.If there are three negations, what can be constituted?What power can a man who is raped, fired from the newspaper, and abandoned by love in the gust of a few hours produce?

She burst into tears, but what did it matter!The emotions, the origins of the internal heat, these have not been touched by misfortune.She picks up the phone; well, now it feels like the day has begun.She would call the editorial director of the Herald; call the editor of The Times.They had all told her that if she wanted, they would roll out a carpet of gold and make her way, and ask her to write whatever she wanted. For a whole week after the rape, Camargue repeated the phrase: "It was never so difficult to tame a wild woman." Shakespeare gave people a wonderful lesson in the method of taming a shrew in his early comedies. , that was staged in 1592, maybe earlier.However, Camargue further refined the method of taming.In The Taming of the Shrew, staged in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the figure of Petruchio walks around the stage with a multi-headed whip in his hand: the symbol of the tamer.Catherine, the vanquished woman, is happy to justify the ferocity of her husband's punishment: "It is especially annoying that he does all this in the name of loving me." You need to whip her, but you don't need to starve her, as Petruchio did to Katharina.It was enough for Reina to confront her own vulnerability, her humble status, and her hopeless dependence on the man she loved.

Camargue paid close attention to the disappointment that the editor in Bogota had induced in Reina's mind.Judging from the e-mails, the man never cared about Reina, nor did he understand her at all.One of the incomprehensions that makes Reina's femininity all the more fascinating is that she stubbornly invents an idealized lover to whom she affixes her imaginary virtues.Camargue thought to himself: Perhaps all she did was to adorn her lover with the strength, power, and talent of that other man; who else could that man be but him, Camargue?This is just as the synoptic writers of the Gospels did with the twin messiahs.

The editor, Herman, sent Reina an e-mail from Rio, and said it with incredible clumsiness: "If you love me as you say, I'll stay here for two more years." God, wait for you. How could you forget so quickly the eternal love you swore to me in Temuco?" Maybe Reina didn't explain, didn't tell Hermann about the horrific rape.If told, the editor is a narcissistic beast.Reina should have come to his Camargue for help.As long as the phone rings, he will run to her without hesitation.But Reina would not even answer Skadi's telegram: she would not defend herself, would not argue the legality of her dismissal.Pride, as usual, ruined her.The ultimate arrogance is self-crucifixion; Reina responded to the editor’s brief e-mail with a sly, fire-fighting approach: “Love, unfortunately, is not eternal. Don’t write to me again! "

Camargue stepped up his surveillance on Reina, because that woman might need him now more than ever. He was awake most of the night, sitting by the Bushnell binoculars, waiting for the moment when she would resume her old habits.Now, she no longer takes off her clothes slowly as in the past; she no longer wraps herself in a towel when she comes out of the bathroom.She sleeps on her side most of the day, reading or watching TV.The phone didn't ring, at least she didn't care about it anymore.She has been to the gynecologist three times a week; according to Skadi's investigation, the drugs she is taking are not good for her health: puffiness, coughing, hair loss, which is a greasy, fluffy thick hair.

For several days, Camargue had given up on the driver who drove him around.Now he drives the newspaper's car himself to cover his trip to Guangfu Street.In fact, he could have walked the few blocks from the newspaper office to the unit.However, if he walks, he cannot find out whether someone is following him. On Saturday, he was absent-mindedly crossing one of the busiest intersections on Corrientes Avenue when he ran into a red light. A large bus traveling at full speed hit the side of his car, nearly flipping him over.The car was scrapped; but he was unharmed.It was a sign that good luck had once again favored him.At dawn on Sunday, when he was about to give up surveillance and take a nap, he noticed that Reina got up unexpectedly and nimbly, and put on her riding clothes again: breeches, riding boots, hunting jacket and felt hat.Before seven o'clock, she took a taxi and left, whereabouts are unknown.Everything happened so quickly that Camargue had no time to run out into the street and call another taxi to follow. He was relieved by this new development: the woman had returned to her old habits. Now, he was sure things were going back to the way they used to be. For the first time in weeks he was able to relax and get a good night's sleep. When the Camargue awoke at about four o'clock in the afternoon, a firm decision seized him: call Reina that night; try to get her back. It may be difficult to resist his advances, since there is no longer any obstacle separating him from her: the Columbia editor has not heard from her for almost four days; seems to accept the fact that the relationship is over.Besides, she had nothing to lose, and he had a lot to risk.A man who is not afraid of ridicule and contagion is manly because he is above all, whoever God supports, God must let him be lucky (Original in Latin). He flies so high that nothing can contaminate him.He himself is radiant, and anything that touches him is ablaze and saved. Like what happened on Sundays in the past, Reina came home from the racecourse very late, around ten o'clock.An elderly couple from the country brought her back. The appearance of this old couple was extremely inconsistent with the non-characteristic solemn atmosphere in the city; What can I do.For about three or four minutes, the two of them remained motionless in the cockpit.The two were presumably debating whether to see their daughter's room—Camargue had no doubts that they were family: their resemblance to Reina was obvious—or to return to Atrock.In the past, whenever Camargue mentioned her parents, Reina avoided going into details; now Camargue understood why: parents and daughters are very similar and very different, as if Reina was born, born The next race comes that the parents don't know.The man is bald, with a small mouth and a protruding chin. Her mother had the same restless habit of baring her gums freely when she opened her mouth to laugh.From a distance, both her parents appeared to have bad teeth; but the accuracy of the telescope was not yet verifiable.What Camargue was sure of was that Reina was ashamed to have such parents.Apparently she was undecided whether to invite her parents to come in and see how unremarkable her room looked like, or to send her parents back home because it was too late and they had been together all day. At last.She let her parents go anyway.As soon as Reina entered the bedroom, she repeated certain details of the old ritual: she struggled to take off her riding boots; It was a mole, and now he wanted to go up and kiss it.This time, too, Reina took the blouse off her head and sniffed her underarms.Who knows if she took a shower before going out!Perhaps in the split second of his impromptu doze she had showered; but even so, after a long day of riding the scent of soap had long since worn off, so the bodily fluids reappeared.Camargue looked again at the scar below Reina's navel and on her pubic hair, the result of a poorly stitched appendicitis operation she had had as a child.Reina is evasive when it comes to the past; when Camargue ventures to ask her when and with whom she lost her virginity, or the strongest sexual memory of her life, she responds Full of hostility. Now Camargue saw her turn on the television; he called her before he decided she hadn't seen a show yet.When the phone rang, she sat up in bed, surprised that there would be a phone call at this hour; after a moment's hesitation, she jumped out of bed and picked up the phone.Perhaps she thought it was the Colombian lover who was calling, eager to apologize. Camargue said: "It's me!" "who are you?" "There was a time in the past when you didn't need to ask that question. It's me, an old acquaintance!" "Since we are old acquaintances, you should have learned not to disturb me long ago!", she blushed with anger. This was the first time Camargue saw Reina's anger erupt that had been brewing for several months. But , she didn't interrupt the conversation: that was enough. Perhaps in his dark groping he had touched a sensitive side of Reina's body. Camargue said: "If I can calm down, I can calm you down too. But I can't.I can't bear the thought that you're gone. "It's touching.But how did I go away?It was you who drove me away! ,'" Then what should I do? You don't show up. You don't come to work for three days without a reason. We can't find you anywhere! ""I am sick.But I don't know why I have to explain this to you!farewell! " "Wait! Don't hang up! We can start over like nothing happened." "Now you're sick. I don't understand how you have the courage to call! You've got me everywhere I can't find a job. You've called half of Argentina and got me blacklisted by many agencies. You call Do me! My God! I don't wish you any misfortune. I don't wish any misfortune to you. I just ask you to let me live in peace!" After saying this, she hung up the phone.She hung it hard, as if such a fall could destroy his voice, his shadow and his memory.What would Petruchio have done if Katharina answered the question as arrogantly as Reina?He would imprison her, would deny her food and water: get rid of her! But this method is feasible because Petruchio is so confident that he agrees to marry her.He has found a rope that binds Katharina to the shackles of his marriage.And Camargue let Reina go: this estimate was wrong. After being insulted by Mormir, Reina had suffered enough.Camargue, your excitement is over.You should offer her something she cannot refuse.You call her again, even if you're sure she won't call back. Anyway, you saw her sit up in bed when she heard the phone ring. Although the sound of the phone was monotonous, it connected the windows on this side with the windows of the opposite building.For a split second you thought she was going to cover her ears, because her hands were raised in pleading or warning.Then she covered her chest with the sheet, as if she had a premonition that someone was watching her.The voice on her recording phone was clear and smooth: "I'm not at home. Please leave your phone number and the time you called." Then you say: "Reina, my dear, I want to start over. I would like to marry you. It is serious. I want to be married. Please call me back! If I don't hear from you, I'll go to your house tomorrow to find out what you think.Otherwise, I will go there in two or three days. "Time procrastination is the fundamental element of emotional control: two or three days. She would tremble and wait for that moment: you get on the elevator, take two or three steps across the corridor, stop at the door, and knock." In the chapter on humiliation in "Seven Madmen", a novel by the contemporary Argentine writer Alter (1900-1942), the protagonist Edozain tells how his father would kill him whenever he made a mistake. What you say when ordering him to sleep: "I'll beat you up tomorrow! ’ And so the night became endless. The light shone through the blue glass into the room. When sleepiness finally got the better of him, his father came and said, "Okay, it's the hour!" His father forced him to his knees and whipped him viciously across the buttocks.Camargue, now is your turn: tomorrow!Two days later!You call her again and repeat: Tomorrow!When you do come to Reina's door, she will bow her head; you will make her kneel, and never let her rise! Well, it's the hour, Camargue said.Ever since he called Reina, all he could think about was this image of Reina: open the door for him and say, "Let's get back together. Just pretend nothing happened." Reina and The newspapers distracted Camargue, which took a toll on his health.Once or twice he fell into unforgivable distractions.This has never happened at work.Now he was often angry and seldom forgiving; but his talent remained unimpaired.He re-wrote with passion the story of the collision of the two planes in Chacabuco, a city on the plains he had traveled from Chacabuco the night he went to Asotea to meet Reina. Buck passed.He dispatched a reporter who successfully interviewed Vladimiro.Montesinos, the black monk in Peru, who returned to Lima from his exile in Panama on that plane.In the morning, when he checked the pages of the Daily, he confirmed that he beat the Herald every day. No, his ingenuity doesn't hang around there.That's the realm of everyday chores: sometimes he's already on his way to a restaurant and forgets who he's supposed to go to lunch with!He wrecked another car at the newspaper: this time, through negligence, he drove it into a cable well.The front part was broken into pieces.The eagerness to return to his room on Guangfu Street made him restless.From time to time he checked his phone for a call, to see if there was a message from Reina. Nothing at all.The only thing that got him a message on Monday was Deanna's voice asking when he would see her dad again.He replied: Christmas. "Daughter, before Christmas. I promise you." Reina lived the life of a disabled person.Not taking a shower, not looking away from the TV, just getting up for a cup of tea and sometimes a slice of cheese and bread.Wednesday morning, as usual, to see the gynecologist.Although I go to the street, I don't comb my hair, but use a hairpin to hold it up, and put on a loose cotton coat. I am simple and unpretentious, walking on the road chicly, and don't care about people's hostile eyes.Ah, she didn't know how much she had lost the love of the Camargue: he could have put his arms around her waist, told her happy stories, and made her forget her pain.Honey, it's all over, don't suffer!Don't you feel how your body is being washed from the inside?Don't feel like your blood has returned to normal?Didn't it feel that the pain had been extinguished, that now only its ashes remained, the memory of its loathing?He and she could have walked the city together, filled with happiness. When Reina came back from the gynecologist, she began to check the clothes in the closet.She unhappily parted the breeches to send to the laundry: a sign of readiness for reuse, perhaps this Sunday.That shouldn't surprise Camargue.At seven o'clock he would be waiting for her in another newspaper car; he followed her wherever she went.According to Skadi's investigation, Reina's father repaired the vehicle of the owner of a stud farm in Longchangsi. As a reward, the owner allowed Reina's father to ride one of the precious horses in his collection on weekends. Two horses: one is an Arabian bay horse; the other is a solid black horse. This Wednesday, the president's state visit to Spain and the incessant news about Montesinos from Lima forced Camargue to revise the front page of Le Journal twice.He can be concerned with more than one situation at a time; but the great events happening outside him do not interest him, because they change by themselves, without his control.It is true that he would change in his account of these events.But what's the point?If those events were going to change him, he would have cared; but nothing in the world could change his strong will; nothing could compel him to be what he would not.Except for Reina: the woman who made him lose his mind.Historically speaking, Reina was not at all compared to atmospheric changes, or to a faded paint, or to the flapping of a seal's fins and tails.But life-wise, she occupied a space that suffocated him, made him human without reducing him to nothing, she cast him into a distant wilderness of thought. If Reina agreed, he could marry her: possess her like an object, paint her on the wall; that would make her quiet.But what if she disagrees?But she has no reason to refuse.She is a disabled person now, and he came to help her stand up from the ruins and rebuild her home. Perhaps Reina had a premonition that tomorrow, the "two days later" that Camargue threatened her, had arrived that very night, because she didn't wear the tight blouse and shawl that she barely took off her body—the occasional visit to the doctor Except for shopping, buying medicine and going to the supermarket, I still wear the loose cotton coat.Her posture was the same as always: lying on her side in bed, staring hypnotically at the TV.But before Camargue went downstairs to cross the street, looking through a telescope, she saw that her body had become a network of anxiety: she was biting her nails again fiercely; Twitching from the cold—and a few strands of hair jumped out, forcing her to comb again.Her upper lip was also spasming slightly near the corner of her mouth, making her age a lot.All these details encouraged Camargue to tell him how alone Reina felt, how stressed she was to be alone and unable to move!He had knocked her down, and now she would be grateful if he gave her a hand. At ten o'clock, Camargue saw her put the teacup she had just used into the kitchen, so he decided to knock on the door. "I don't open the door. Whoever it is, I don't want to open the door," she said. "Honey, didn't you hear the message I left you?" Camargue asked uneasily.Having to shout and talk in empty hallways made him angry. "I beg you to marry me. Do it tomorrow. If you like, let's register and apply for a date." "You're sick! Crazy! I'm human! Can you understand that? I have feelings and reason. I'm not your thing!" "Honey, it's you who don't understand." "Don't call me that! I'm Reina. You go! Or I'm going to call the police." "Reina. I think you are out of your mind. I repeat: I want to marry you! I told you: I will come back and wait for your answer. I am Camargue, I do not know if you understand. I am Camargue; I'm going to give you everything that no one in the world can. At least be polite and open the door!" "Camargue, I hear you. I know who you are. You want to marry me, which makes me neither proud nor happy. I told you: I'm in love with someone else." "Who else can you fall in love with? Stop kidding! Reina, you are alone now." "I'm going to call the police!" she said. "Stinky bitch, you still dare to threaten me! You are sick and covered in blood, smelly bitch, I am here to help you, but your answer is to call the police!" "Go away!" Her voice sounded desperately but resolutely.If only Camargue could see her face through the binoculars, my God, if only he could see her face! "I won't let you do that!" he said. At this time, he went crazy.Kick the door and hit it with the strength of a bull.He could have opened the door with the key Skadi had given him.But Reina installed a second lock.It was no trouble to him to find a solution; but he did not pay attention to this detail.Should he have foreseen everything?Can he enter the myriad of thoughts at the same time with one heart and one mind?If the wall facing him was the Journal, or Buenos Aires, or the vastness of Argentina, he could figure out a way to overthrow it.But Reina's unfortunate door was impenetrable and intolerant. She yelled again: "Go away!" Epilogue The Camargue had known since Saturday that Reina was going to ride.He saw her polishing her riding boots; saw her hang her breeches on the coat-rack; saw her bring out the white shirt she had worn the previous week, and the high-necked coat with gilt buttons. Camargue was up all night.The dawn was clear and transparent, and there was not a cloud in the sky; to his surprise, on the way to the car, he heard the unusual singing of the field thrush. In this sparsely populated, treeless outskirts of Buenos Aires there are field thrushes! Who can predict the mood of the birds?Again the taxi came to pick her up at seven o'clock.He followed her closely for more than an hour on the long road south of the city, ignoring the red lights on the road, staring intently at the back of Reina's head, as if locking her in the lens of the telescope again. He just wanted an explanation, just wanted to know why she refused Camargue without considering who he was!Of course he didn't believe that she was still obsessed with the Colombian editor, because she had driven him away mercilessly, just like driving away Camargue.What he could not have imagined was that he had insulted her as if he were diatribes by making a trivial phone call to the Buenos Aires press, suggesting that they must not hire Reina.Once again she forgot that the Camargue's only interest was to protect her, and had she been somewhere more fulfilling and happier than at Le Journal? Was it not enough that he proposed to marry her?If she agreed to get married, her status would be more important than before going to Temuco and Caracas.She may never have to write another line in her life.Then it would no longer be Mademoiselle Remis, but Madame Camargue.How could she not realize the difference between the two?He wanted to explain to her.For this reason, he took the pains to drive more than 40 kilometers to a remote stud farm in the south.How could he allow a man who would marry him to play such a dangerous game?On Friday, Skadi told him straight to the point: Reina was going to work for an abstract agency.The situation made him feel furious.The thought of her cutting and pasting someone else's writing in a cramped and dingy office with three or four snotty apprentices was an insult to him.He taught her earnestly: You must have a sense of pride, you must have self-confidence, and you must have amazing abilities; among them, pride is the most important.Camargue immediately called the boss of the Digest Agency; he said: "If you dare to hire Reina Remis, I will make it impossible to sell what you have!" He didn't need to explain.He was even more brutal with an e-magazine that was planning to partly publish articles about Reina's twin messiahs.The publisher, a stubborn young man, had the magazine bound and ready for publication.He didn't know how Skadi had managed to get several subscribers to withdraw their orders: that was the result of young people's adventures. Camargue wanted to have Reina all to himself, and no one was allowed to share it.At this time, he had parked the car in a forest mixed with hackberry (a tree species unique to Argentina) and bougainvillea, from where he could quietly watch through the binoculars that Reina got out of the taxi and went to the plant. The voluptuous sequence of walking up to the janitor's cottage and hoisting up a set of English saddles convinced him that, no matter what, he was going to keep her!Reina was the right companion for him; there was no other substitute.She was less refined than Brenda: his ex-wife's apparent elegance disappeared as soon as serious conversation entered.Neither ideas nor the real world interested Brenda. Her whole passion was music, or music at all, but the five or six trios she practiced constantly for performances in the provinces.Reina, on the other hand, has a veritable savvy: a little gamey, poorly cultivated, and sometimes rude.However, he knew that polishing the roughness was just a matter of time and practice.During the months of educating her, he kept her out of business meetings: now was the time to show her talents and let her take risks. The stud farm is located five kilometers west of Longchangsi train station, which is much simpler than Camargue expected.The large loess-paved yard faced a single stable with six horses in total; beside it was an alfalfa field with two or three jumping obstacles placed in it.There was no one around.To be sure, the janitor was still asleep. It was possible that Reina's father would arrive at any moment along with the other riders.He saw Reina put the saddle in place with incredible skill. A bay red horse, adjust the horse's girth, and touch the horse's head.She put one foot in the stirrup, but she stopped again.From her facial expression, Camargue saw that unexpected pain stopped her from getting on the horse, and the pain probably came from the abdomen.Reina covered her belly with one hand and held the rein with the other.This moment is the time when he needs to step forward to help her.Camargue got out of the car, left the cover of the woods, and made his way to the compound.Reina was in the courtyard, using breathing movements to ease the pain.Camargue was really moved by this pathetic look of defenselessness.The place is desolate and remote; only two kilometers from a mountain of rubbish that is haunted by thieves and patronized by buyers. Skadi explained to him that robberies were common in the backcountry.Skadi also advised him not to stop at a red light, as it is better to pay a fine — if the police show up — than to be robbed.Reina's taxi driver must have known this too, because he wouldn't stop at a red light.Out of caution, Camargue carried with him a 38-caliber Taurus revolver with six rounds in a rotating chamber. If he spotted any suspicious robbers, he believed that a flick of the pistol would be enough to scare the bad guys away. Reina recovered faster than Camargue had expected; she insisted on riding the bay horse anyway.Camargue saw her pick up the whip again from the ground and look up haughtily, and he wanted to return to his hiding place in the woods. But, it was too late: she had already found him.Maybe it's better this way.Reina's father would show up at any moment, but even so, if you think about it carefully, why did Reina come to ride so early?All sorts of conjectures flooded his mind and tormented his imagination.Could she be waiting for another lover, a man she could only reach by phone?Otherwise, what was she doing here until night?Camargue, think, think!At noon, Reina must dismount and go back to her hometown for lunch.After dinner she came back with her father and rode again until six o'clock; then went back to Atrock's house for the second time, maybe played a little with her nephews—she had two, and finally went back to Buenos Aires. In the past, she used the newspaper's car to go back and forth.Now, she begged her father to take her home in the old van.Then there are five blank hours: from 8:00 am to 1:00 pm.Camargue, what other signs do you need? You may be sure that she must have been at the gatekeeper's house with some other lover, which was probably the gatekeeper.Uncovering this layer of secrecy has given you enough strength to meet the haughty and defiant look she's looking at you now. "Are you here again? Are you never going to let me be quiet?" she demanded. Don't let her anger lead you away.No, Camargue.You have to take a deep breath, not to relieve any pain, but to have the courage to confirm the justice of what you did when you breathe deep into your internal organs, and at the same time calm down the voice that spoke: "Reina, I just want to Find out what happened to you. Is it all that trouble to explain it, please? You can't turn me down like I'm nothing." "You are nothing to me," she cut you off.Then, he turned around and went back to the bay red horse.The stinky bitch! "I want to help you. I know something terrible has happened to you..." "What do you know? You're still sniffing in my panties? Smelly beggar! You're ruining my reputation everywhere, and now you're trying to ruin my privacy. Who do you think you are?" 不，卡马格，这娘儿们可不是过去曾经属于你的那个女人。她已经被人改造了：人们改变了她的聪明才智，改变了她的美貌；有人糟蹋了她的人格。现在她用来咒骂你的污秽语言，也不是她本人的。你用望远镜不停地观察了她这么长时间，怎么就没有看到她这些变化呢？她过去是光明的蜂王，现在是个臭蛆虫。不管怎样，你还是你；你不会被她那敌对情绪的臭水所裹挟。 你对她说：“暂时就算你想的：我什么也不是吧。这个什么也不是的人是在你惨遭不幸的那一周里惟一给你打电话的人。我是惟一去你家门口向你求婚，或者给你提供帮助的人。换了别人，你也应该解释一下嘛。为什么你不肯向我解释呢？” 雷伊娜举起鞭子，浑身颤抖。嘴角又抽搐起来了。 她说：“咱们干脆一下子了断！既然你一切都知道了，那你还想知道什么？” “那个男的，那个哥伦比亚人，我已经不在乎了。” “那就够了。我的生活是我的生活。你想解决你和我之间的事情，对吗？我估计你感兴趣的就是这个。卡马格，咱俩的关系是个错误。是个海市蜃楼。一天早晨，我醒来时发现你前额有两条皱纹、满头白发、火鸡样的下巴，那时我想：我在这个男人旁边做什么呢？我把自己的生活弄成什么样子了？尽管如此，我那时并没有打算离开你。后来。 真正的爱情来了，我就把你放在一边了。现在，你走吧。我要骑这匹枣红马了。 “啊，雷伊娜，我已经不知道你是双胞胎中的哪一个了？ 你要穿着白围裙、戴着橡胶手套骑枣红马？你要戴着手套抚摩马鬃？多年来，卡马格就一直等待这一天的到来；他已经等待多年了；他绝对不允许此时此刻再溜走。 你对雷伊娜说：“我那边有辆汽车，在树林里呢。现在你跟我上车，听话，别出声。永远留在我身边。你非常清楚：谁也不能抛弃我！' ”你疯啦！，'她回答道。 她想一下子跳上马去，可是你比她快。你拉住她胳膊，把她拉向你的怀中，其力量之大，使得她在推拉的过程中松开了缰绳，一下子摔倒在土地上。枣红马惊慌地跳跃起来，撒腿跑远了。 “我就是你。你我不能分离！” 雷伊娜犹豫了一下，不知如何是好：向看门人的房屋跑去呢，还是抵抗。不幸的是鞭子刚好落在她手边。她不可能胆子大到敢打你的程度。但是，她打了。鞭子抽向你脑袋的时候，她显得比平时异常高大。她既像你母亲，又是她本人，两个女性姘居在一个肉体里。 她吼道：“婊子养的！婊子养的！” 她轻蔑地瞥了你一眼，跑步去找枣红马了。 “雷伊娜！”你喊道。声音清晰又明亮，仿佛刚刚清洗过一样。 后来，你说：不记得发生了什么事情，因为往事在今天重复的闪电属于哪个记忆层面呢？如何解释你从前多次、无数次做过现在又要做的事情呢？你自然而然地从腰带上的枪套里掏出左轮手枪来，瞄准雷伊娜的后背，扣动了扳机。陶鲁斯牌的圆形弹膛勉强转动了一下，又一颗子弹上了膛。你看见她摇晃着走了一两步就跌倒了。你还看见她转身用怀疑的目光望着你，手里紧紧攥着鞭子，好像还要抽你。 她问：“卡马格，怎么你……？” 头发散落在她面部的一侧。嘴唇是张开的，可以看到苍白的牙床。颈部暴露在外，你认出了那颗你亲吻过多次的圆痣，它还在轻轻跳动。但是，她已经不是她了：她是脱离你身体的一个错误。 你又叫了她一次：“雷伊娜！” 你射出了第二发子弹，这一次很近，就在圆痣上面。 你看见看门人和一个妇女跑出屋外，他和她揪住衣裳、杀猪般地尖叫起来。你看见明净的天空上挂着一轮白色唱片似的太阳；卡马格，你觉得一切都好。你重新感觉到仿佛出生那天一样的清洁，那时可还没有人抛弃你呢。 在几个小时的时间里，你开着汽车在荒无人烟的道路上转来转去，远处的草地上几头母牛在吃草。你很想打电话给恩索。马埃斯特罗，告诉他发生的事情，要求他在明天的头版上刊登这条消息。肯定会轰动；《日报》理应精心讲述这个故事，要比任何人说得都好。将来你来讲这个故事。 现在你得保持沉默，如同儿时躺在被窝里一样；你去寻找不曾有过的柔情感觉，在虚无之手的抚摩下屏住了呼吸。空气一动不动。中午的炎热是如此的残酷，连蚊蝇都不飞舞。 但是有人在唱歌，是你母亲在唱？你听到身后远方传来的歌声；谁知道那歌声是怎么来的，从哪里来的；那歌声不是充满你的耳朵，而是充满你迷失的灵魂最深处，卡马格，充满你渴望回去、又不能回去的地方。 布伦达从来不听其自然。那天晚上，圣依西德罗大街的住宅里将宾客盈门；她说，最好是上凉菜。布宜诺斯艾利斯的夏天又变得难以忍受了；或许应该把餐桌摆在外面，摆在游廊里；但是，让卡马格那样露面是不谨慎的；他不能离开椅子，不肯让客人们发现他已经残废了。 在起诉他犯有杀人罪的不愉快的审理过程中——结果宣判他无罪，如同现在大家认定的那样，一种奇怪之极的疾病症状出现在他身上；医生们诊断时使用一些很难发音的名称：急性特发多神经炎，或者叫做多神经根神经炎，还有一种普通说法，叫做吉约因巴利综合征。 卡马格以为是在出席瓦伦提参议员的葬礼时出现的感染迹象，当时他双腿肌肉突然松弛无力；恩索。马埃斯特罗不得不搀扶他，免得他摔倒；但是不可能摔倒。 综合征状开始时好像普通感冒；半夜时分，卡马格在毫无预感的情况下，突然停止呼吸，面部左侧麻痹。多亏了布伦达开庭期间赶回布宜诺斯艾利斯；她确信卡马格是无辜的，同意复婚。 凭着她一向的实干作风，立刻叫来急救车，要求医院急诊室抢救。如果不是这样，卡马格早就因窒息而死在那座空空荡荡的大宅院里了。 这种病是不可预料的；某一天如同它是悄然而至的那样又不动声色地去了。每当犯病时，方式阴险，从上至下，或者从下至上，有时症状几周或者几个月停留在四肢的某个地方。卡马格起初觉得胳臂上的肌肉完全没有了弹性；后来有一天，站不起来了，因为肌肉无力的情况也发生在腿部和腹部了。与此同时，括约肌失控；但是更让他担心的是性功能消失。性欲消失了，自从这种疾病在腿部落户以后，阴茎就丝毫没有勃起的迹象了。一想到人们会发现他已经瘫痪了并且做出种种不祥的猜测，他就感到十分绝望。布伦达借口他应该保持思维活跃，经常在家里组织聚会。 在客人们来到之前，先让卡马格坐在餐桌的首席，让他在那里始终不动，理由是腰疼不能动弹，或者说是骨折。卡马格知道人们在他背后议论他性功能障碍的问题；但是，他一回想起这综合征是有来有去的并且总有一天会恢复正常的，便安心了许多。但是，实际上，这综合征窜来窜去、越来越赖在他身上不走反而让他高兴。有时看到病情好转时，他就去弹钢琴，弹奏阿尔康和加布里尔。福莱的作品。 那天晚上，布伦达仔细选择了餐具。客人之一是恩索。 马埃斯特罗；他一向殷勤、客气地对待布伦达，特别是审判杀人案的前夕，卡马格拒绝接见布伦达的时候。布伦达后来札尚往来，说服丈夫把《日报》的领导权让给他这位忠实的朋友。这一决定再正确不过了：只要卡马格高兴，他随时可以打电话，可以对头版标题下令修改；但是他不愿意总是向他请示，哪怕是有重大消息的时候。他宁肯与日常操劳的琐事保持距离。杀人的事件发生后不久，他从医院里打电话给思索——住院的原因就是为了表示抗议，因为《先驱者报》对这个案件的报道比《日报》准确而详细。他问恩索：“难道非得我呆在报社你们才知道应该做什么吗？”他直接质问恩索：“就没有人能讲好一个爱情加背叛的故事吗？”这件杀人案似乎令人难以置信；但是任何一位肯查阅那个时期周报的人都可以证实事情果然如此。 卡马格的智力没有丧失对往事令人赞叹的反射能力；但是，对现实他已经不感兴趣了：他知道一天的消息会被次日的新闻冲洗；他知道几乎投有什么消息会留在记忆里。因为世界上的悲剧，如同人一样，是注定要死亡的，只是迟早而已。如今，他喜欢在录像室里消磨时光，外面就是那种有天竺葵的游廊；他用影碟机重放希契科克（希契科克（1899—1980），英国电影导演，善于制造幽默和悬念。主要作品有、、《列车上的陌生人》等。）、费利尼（费利尼（1920—1993），意大利著名电影导演。他导演的影片多用象征手法将现实与想象结合在一起。代表作有《白酋长》、《牛犊》、《道路》、《甜蜜的生活》等。）、维斯孔蒂（维斯孔蒂（1906 1976 ），意大利电影导演，其作品真实再现个人与现实社会的冲突。主要影片有《沉沦》、《大地在波动》、《小美人》等。）以及布努埃尔（布努埃尔（1900—1983），西班牙电影导演、制片人。主要作品有< 黄金时代》、《伟大的流氓，、《灭绝中的天使》等。）的影片，此前他一直没有机会再看一遍。一天下午，他集中全身的力气，在影碟机里放上查理。劳顿的《猎人之夜》；但是，尽管从一开始他就觉得是部杰作，他在罗伯特。米切姆关于爱和恨的布道画面定格观看，随后他还是把小小的影碟扔进了垃圾袋。有时，他宁可读书：英国青年文学中的长篇小说，他一部也不放过；尤其喜欢阅读依施古罗和麦克埃万的作品；他还爱看一位法国哲学家——吉尔。德莱乌塞的散文，吉尔如同路易。阿尔杜塞（路易一阿尔杜塞（1918—1990），法国著名的研究马克思主义的理论家之一。 主要著作有《保卫马克思》、《读< 资本论> 》、《列宁和哲学》等。）一样地不幸自杀身亡；卡马格对吉尔的犯罪故事十分着迷。有些空闲时候，卡马格修改一些他打算补充到自己经典性文集——《遗弃》中的文章。 那天晚上，布伦达决定上洋葱、土豆、奶油混合而成的菜汤，还有冰镇葱韭汤；再上覆盆子汁浇火鸡、凉拌菜；再上千层饼加圣依西德罗公园养蜂人出售的纯果酱。当糕点女师傅中午送来千层饼的时候，还作为馈赠送来一些沾满蜂蜜的蜂房碎片以及一些乳白色的黏稠物。据这位女师傅说，这是蜂房里蜂王吃的食物：充满蛋白质、脂肪以及不确定的激素。女师傅鼓励卡马格说：“卡马格博士，为什么您不尝尝蜂王浆？既然蜂王能从里面吸取展翅高飞的全部力量，那么您想想像您这样的贵人会有什么样的效果吧！”卡马格没有吭声。虽然他对那些工蜂腹下分泌出来的神秘东西有些厌恶，下午他还是要人给他送来一小块蜂房片。他用放大镜一一观察那些神奇的六角形蜂巢，那蜂巢壁很脆，但有弹性。凑巧，他很想看看某个未来蜂王幼虫的情况，以便立刻用大头针把幼虫钉住。 那天晚上，卡马格肯定既不快活又不难过。如今生活对他而言已经变成一系列无所谓的事情。也许某一天，假如他又能重新走路了，他要在海边度过一两个月，开始撰写他构思已久的长篇小说。他要讲述一个嗓音绝对美妙的歌手故事，他的声音可以达到所有的音区，他母亲是个女魔王，有一群地痞流氓辅佐着她，她切断了儿子发展的所有道路，让他老老实实呆在家里。卡马格想过，让这个歌手叫卡莫那，与他的名字相似；小说的书名可以是《主人之手》，虽然这个想法可能别的作家以前也想到过，这让他想起有个老唱片就叫《主人的声音》。 卡马格从吉尔。德莱乌塞的《对话录》里的一个反思中得到鼓励，拿起笔来开始策划故事。德莱乌塞在书中说道，从克雷蒂安。德。特鲁瓦（克雷蒂安。德。特鲁瓦（1135—1183），法国作家，擅长写骑士和宫廷题材作品。）到萨米埃尔。贝克特（萨米埃尔。贝克特（1906—1989），爱尔兰出生的法国籍著名剧作家、小说家、诗人，荒诞派戏剧的杰出代表之一。主要作品有《等待戈多》、《最后一局》、《戏弄》等。），所有的小说都是反英雄的：主人公是荒诞、怪异、迷失的人，他又聋又瞎，流浪四方。这样给小说下定义，他觉得过于简单了，大概是过于水平化了。卡马格认为，一部长篇小说就是一个向高空飞翔的蜂王，它盲目地占有上升过程中遇到的一切，既不留情也不后悔，因为它来到这个世界上，仅仅为了这次飞翔。 飞向高空是它最后的骄傲；也是对它的判决！