Homeland by Fernando Aramburu

Author:Fernando Aramburu [Aramburu, Fernando]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2019-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

69

THE BREAK

The graffiti against Txato ruined Joxian’s appetite. And deprived him of his best friend. If this happens in a city, it’s okay, but in a small town where we all know one another, you can’t keep up a relationship with someone who’s been marked. That Sunday he was thinking about all those things along the road from Zumaya to his house. He’d set out with Txato, he was returning without him. Who’s going to be my mus partner now? After lunch, which didn’t appeal to him, which he couldn’t finish, he walked out of the bar with the others; but on the first hill, he pretended his strength was fading and fell behind. Then, before reaching Guetaria, he decided to get off his bike, sit down on a boulder, face the sea, and gather his thoughts. The sea is huge. The sea is like God, who is both near and distant, which reminds us just how small we are, damn it to hell, and could, if it wanted, destroy us. It was harder than ever for him to reach the village. In Orio he was on the verge of taking the bus. What about the bike? He could leave it locked up somewhere. And if someone robs it? That’s right, because around here there are lots of outsiders. Dispirited, he went on pedaling, paying no attention to the traffic, absorbed in somber cogitation.

When he walked into the apartment, Miren, from the kitchen, wearing her apron, looked him in the eye. Not severe, not frowning: questioning. He expected a row because he was late. She said nothing more than:

“Go on, take a shower.”

And that almost sounded like the tenderness of past times. She didn’t even speak to him in the hard tones she’d used on other occasions or as when she softly tells him something normal and ordinary, but because of her voice and the expression on her face he realizes the lightning will strike any time now.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, sit down and watch how I eat.”

And they spoke, seriously, gulping their soup, chewing little lamb chops, the two of them seated at the table without the company of their children.

“You do know, right?”

“First the Joxe Mari business and now this.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Disgrace on top of disgrace.”

“She called. Must have been at around ten. I hung up on her.”

“And just yesterday the two of you were in the café.”

“Yesterday was yesterday, today is another day. Our friendship is over. Get used to it.”

“So many years. Aren’t you sorry about it?”

“What makes me sorry is Euskal Herria, the fact that they don’t let her be free.”

“I’m not going to get used to it. Txato is my friend.”

“He was. And be very careful about being seen with him. The best thing would be for them to get out. With all the money they have, what would it matter to them to buy a house somewhere else? What they want to do is provoke.”

“They won’t go. Txato is stubborn.”

“The struggle forgives no one.

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