Let the Wind Speak (GT) by Juan Carlos Onetti

Author:Juan Carlos Onetti
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788466336307
Publisher: Penguin Random House Spain
Published: 2016-05-10T16:00:00+00:00

Besides the doctor, Díaz Gray, and the woman, he already had the city where they both lived. He now had the provincial city on whose main square the two windows of Diaz Grey's office opened. I was smiling, amazed and grateful that it was so easy to spot a new Santa Maria on the spring night. The city with its decline and its river, the brand new hotel and, in the streets, the brown-faced men who change, without spontaneity, jokes and smiles.

I held out the paper to Larsen, but he held up a hand.

"No," he said, "it's for you.

Another knock on the door, timid, almost clandestine. I left the bed and went to make way for Gurisa to enter. She had a new smile that I had seen on another woman's face, who knows when or where. He walked straight in and passed the owner without looking at him. He barely raised his hat, but I had time to see his sparse gray hair combed toward his forehead, like a thin silver cap trying to reduce baldness.

I sat down again, Gurisa lay down on the bed, behind me, and I heard him open his wallet and light a cigarette. From then on it was as if she did not see or hear Larsen, as if he felt alone with me.

—Brausen. He stretched out as if to take a nap and was making up Santa Maria and all the stories. It's clear.

—But I was there. You too.

—It's written, nothing more. There is no evidence. So I repeat: do the same. Get on the bed, invent yourself too. Make yourself the Santa María that you like the most, lie, dream people and things, happened.

"Until now you haven't asked me what the hell happened to me," Gurisa said from behind me.

Larsen stood up and pressed the last worm against his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"Think about it," he said. It's easy for you. You can stay here as long as you like. Free of charge. There is a restaurant service, minutes I say.

I got up to accompany him and despite the worms I did not feel disgusted by squeezing the cold in his hand.

I went back to bed; Gurisa had made an ashtray with an envelope that she kept between her breasts.

"This is going to be a honeymoon," I told him. We're going to stay here for a few days until we get bored.

Gurisa smiled happily.

—Really? All the time together?

I nodded and she added:

"Then I'm going to find a way to change those curtains." They are horrible.

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