Waltz by Francesc Trabal

Author:Francesc Trabal [Trabal, Francesc]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Classics, Cultural Heritage, literary, Fiction
ISBN: 9781564789853
Google: YbdgAAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1564788776
Publisher: Dalkey Archive Press
Published: 2013-08-01T23:00:00+00:00

Zeni suffered terrible insomnia that night, but early the following morning he enjoyed the calming effect of the sleep that only comes in the small hours and offers such deep repose. Helena had to call him more times than on other days, until finally she was able to drag him from his bed, and soon afterward he burst into the street with a bound. With morning, Zeni’s nocturnal disquiet had turned into an urgent need to see Otília, and he headed straight to her house, only to be disappointed when he found Ricard alone and eager to detain him. Zeni would have liked to rush off in search of his cousin, but Ricard wasn’t sure where she was.

“Will you come back, later?”

“Yes.”

“Come to lunch.”

But Zeni was distracted and called out something unintelligible from the stairs.

He had planned to skip Dr. Vancells’s class that morning, but now he would have to forgo the idea. So, like every other day, he found himself in front of the house in the Pedralbes neighborhood, though he was considerably later than usual. He felt sure the professor wouldn’t be there.

“He’s already at the University.”

Zeni had expected as much, but he had been governed by habit.

“Would you like to wait for him?”

He couldn’t decide. He couldn’t decide whether to go in or return later. If he stayed, what would he do? If he left, where would he go at that time of day? It was either too late or too early, depending on what the plan was. He was on the point of going out for a spin, a quick walk, but just as he was turning away, his eyes caught sight of a woman’s umbrella and hat on the bench in the foyer.

“Is someone here?”

“The Senyoreta from Arrahona.”

Zeni crossed the threshold and closed the door. He didn’t know Dr. Vancells had a new student. The word “Arrahona” evoked a poignant memory.

“Is she in Dr. Vancells’s office?”

“Yes, she is. Would you like to go in? You know each other, I assume.”

Did they know each other? Zeni was about to say no, but stopped himself in time.

“Of course.”

And as though he were in his own home, he put down his hat, coat, gloves and entered the office, much as a movie-Napoleon might.

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