Pale Reflection by Gustavo Bondoni

Author:Gustavo Bondoni [Bondoni, Gustavo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798612256496
Publisher: Tule Fog Press
Published: 2020-02-29T22:00:00+00:00

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Alejandro hugged her, not letting go, allowing Vanesa to cry herself out. It took quite a while, but eventually his brother’s young widow managed to get herself under control. Even through her tears, she was an amazingly pretty woman, and he’d always been amazed that Ernesto, the quiet, unassuming one, had managed to convince her to marry him.

“I can’t believe he’s gone…”

And she broke down again, unable to hold it in.

It was midnight on the night of the funeral when she finally ran out of tears. Alejandro just kept her company, holding her when she needed it, and bringing her occasional cups of coffee. Even when Ernesto and Alejandro’s mother begged off to get some sleep, he stood by the widow.

“It’s my fault, you know.”

“Don’t be silly. It was random. An accident. You know it as well as I do.”

“No. I know it was the gualicho. I just know it.”

“Vanesa, you really need to relax. Maybe you should get some rest.” The funeral home was a good one, and had plenty of room for family to lie down.

And yet… and yet the word gualicho nagged at him, left him with the strange feeling that he’d heard it before somewhere, and the fact that it didn’t come immediately to mind irritated him. Where had it been? He set it aside, drawing her closer, intending to lead her to one of the couches.

She pushed him away. “I know you don’t believe me. I laughed at the police woman as well, but now look at me. There’s something going on, and if you don’t believe me, you’ll be crying over someone you love one of these days as well.”

That was unfair, Alejandro thought, and yet he said nothing. He would have time to tell her about the endless summer afternoons he’d spent playing football with Ernesto on deserted sidewalks, or riding bicycles across the park… or just playing video games inside and fighting about whose turn it was to be ‘Player 1.’ The memories he had of his brother were no less important than the ones she had of her husband, and neither was the gaping hole torn in his life.

He held his tongue, trying to think of some-thing helpful to say, but his mind had other ideas, and kept circling around and around that single alien word.

Gualicho.

Gualicho.

Gualicho.

Unexpectedly, it clicked, and Alejandro found himself remembering a dying old lady in a Patagonian hospital speaking what the doctor knew were her final words – and the final words that would ever be spoken in a language about to disappear from the face of the Earth.

“I recorded her,” he said.

Vanesa looked into his eyes, clearly not knowing where he was going with this, clearly expecting to have to reproach him for bringing up a subject both banal and unrelated to her suffering. But he explained anyway.

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