The Armies by Evelio Rosero

Author:Evelio Rosero [Rosero, Evelio]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: e9780811225212
Publisher: New Directions
Published: 2013-01-20T05:00:00+00:00

But first I go and look for and chase—in the Brazilian’s garden—one of the hens, my hens, who have decided to keep on living in the neighbors’ garden. I am aware of Geraldina’s eyes watching me through the glass door, Geraldina dressed in mourning watches me in shock as I catch a hen at last and stuff it into a shoulder bag, laughing now: we shall have a chicken stew, Otilia, Maestro Claudino and I. Through the hole in the wall I return to my house, forgetting to wave to Geraldina, without saying goodbye. As I walk down the first empty streets I forget the war entirely: I feel only the warmth of the hen against my side, I believe only in the hen, its miracle, Maestro Claudino, Otilia, the dog, in the hut, all focused on the happy stew in the pot, far from the world and further still: on the blue invulnerable mountain in front of me, half hidden in the veils of fog.

The last house, on the paved street, just before the beginning of the highway, is Gloria Dorado’s. Small, but big enough, clean, mango trees in the yard, it was a gift from Marcos Saldarriaga. I thought I saw Gloria for a second, standing at the open door, in white pyjamas, with a broom in her hand: she was going to say something to me, I thought, but she closed the door. She was going to say good morning and changed her mind and rightly so, I suppose, when she saw me laughing to myself, very discordant to the anguish with which she has lived since the disappearance of Saldarriaga. I have started off down the road when I hear her voice behind me, the voice of Gloria Dorado, the strange blue-eyed, brown-skinned woman Saldarriaga was devoted to.

“Be careful, profesor. We don’t yet know whose hands the town is in.”

“Whoever they belong to, they’re the same hands,” I say, and take my leave and carry on.

How good to get away from San José, full to the brim with solitude and fear, so sure am I of finding Otilia up on the mountain.

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