The Chase by Alejo Carpentier

Author:Alejo Carpentier [Carpentier, Alejo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literary, Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780816638093
Google: HGHkGwAACAAJ
Amazon: 0816638098
Publisher: Univerisity of Minnesota Press
Published: 2001-03-14T13:00:00+00:00

“What happened, did you lose your way?” she asked as she opened the door, looking him over with ironic curiosity while the sleepy dog, trained not to bark at strangers, merely sniffed at him. “I just got back from a trip,” he said to explain to a person who had recently praised his expensive, flashy clothing why he was wearing a suit inappropriate to the season and a shirt that was wrinkled from being washed under the faucet on the terrace. “Sunglasses?” she teased, plucking them off with one finger and comically modeling them: “Everything’s black. Is it a fad?” “I haven’t eaten yet,” he answered, looking toward the kitchen shadowed by the hanging branches of the pomegranate tree. The dog had stretched out at the far end of the patio, next to a mound of leftovers that was so abundant there could be nothing left in the pots. Estrella brought a bottle that still contained some liquor. When he reached her door, the man had been on the point of instantly entrusting himself to the only person who could help him tonight. But now the alcohol he drank quickly made him consider his situation more calmly. He was hidden once again. The house she’d closed off behind his back covered and concealed him. There were many hours yet before dawn. He had before him ample and propitious time. He knew he could count on Estrella. But before saying a word, he ought to create once again the climate of intimacy his two weeks of despair had broken down. She liked his slow and prolonged way of possessing her. He took her by the hand, drawing her toward the bed. “Wait,” she said, putting out the light and sliding in next to him after removing her lipstick with a cleansing tissue and covering the statue of the Virgin with a cloth. But he had fallen into a boundless bed. The softness of the pillow after his having tossed and turned on the worn-out straw mattress that had holes in it so big his shoulder would go right through them; the liquor, which left his body without bones, soft, as if made of warm wax; the relief of putting down his heavy pistol, which he put on top of his clothes; the wide, hot breast next to his cheek; the woman’s arms, more lullaby now than incitement: it all made him settle, slowly, delightfully, his arms and legs slack, into the great lap of a sleep at long last possible . . . When he opened his eyes the lights were turned back on. Estrella, her back toward him, had just put on a blouse with green ribbons on the collar. In the moon of the mirror, she looked at him with more indifference than spite. “Come here,” he said. “You won’t be able to,” she answered, putting on her lipstick. Knowing it would be easier to get her to take her clothes off again than to take off her lipstick, he sat up on the edge of the bed and made a gesture of rage.

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