Locos: A Comedy of Gestures by Felipe Alfau

Author:Felipe Alfau [Alfau, Felipe]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
ISBN: 9780916583309
Amazon: 1564781712
Publisher: Dalkey Archive Press
Published: 1989-01-01T13:00:00+00:00

A Vision

One afternoon, as Chinelato was going in his carriage toward La Luneta, he saw one of the few women whom he really loved in his life.

It was a sudden and unexpected vision that for a moment disturbed all his mental faculties. She went by in her light carriage completely dressed in white, but her dress as well as her golden curls and snowy complexion were deeply tinted with the pink glow coming from a red parasol she held over her head and that of an elderly lady who sat by her side, and the red reflection turned her great blue eyes into two wonderful purple amethysts.

Chinelato did not notice the details. He was just struck by the whole of this fleeting vision of gold and red that led away into the sunset enveloped in a cloud of ilan-ilan and sampaguita. He literally turned around inside his carriage and leaned against the folded top as if it were a window, his mouth open, his eyes following the red parasol receding in the distance like a poppy carried by the wind in the afternoon glow.

The gentleman who sat beside him pulled him by the sleeve and said in a bland voice:

“Le gusta, Señor Chinelato?”

“Who . . . is . . . that?” he inquired, not yet quite recovered from the impression.

“She is Señorita Bejarano, the only daughter of Don Esteban Bejarano y Ulloa, a government employee here.”

“Well, she is the most beautiful creature I have seen, even if she is the daughter of a government employee.”

“Why, Señor Chinelato, I thought you were past the stage of looking at beautiful ladies. You are a married man.”

“You know very well how much marriage stands in the way of love in these countries. . . . Really, that girl is just simply marvelous and if I . . .”

“But your wife is very beautiful, too, Señor Chinelato. . . .”

Juan Chinelato was always greatly annoyed at people bringing up objections to things he liked.

“If you find my wife so beautiful, take her!” he said brutally.

The other man raised his eyebrows slightly but again smiled softly.

“What things you say, Señor Chinelato.”

“What the devil? I speak what I think and say it clearly. My wife does not interest me any longer. I seek my amusement elsewhere. It is just that she gets someone who will love her oftener than I do, provided it is not a priest.”

The other man laughed.

“Certainly. I don’t mind being a cuckold, but I refuse to be the provider of a priest. What the devil? They are the regular home-wreckers in this land. There is not a single home here where they have not smuggled their little bastard in some corner. They live on the fat of the land . . . and you know how much I like the fat ladies.”

“Yes. Señorita Bejarano is rather plump and well developed for her age.”

At the mention of this name Chinelato went into a reverie. He seemed to be talking to himself and mentally smacking his tongue.

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