The Musical Brain by César Aira

Author:César Aira
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New Directions
Published: 2015-01-11T16:00:00+00:00

The Cart

A CART FROM A SUPERMARKET in my neighborhood was rolling along on its own, with no one pushing it. It was a cart just like all the others, made of thick wire, with four little rubber wheels (the front pair slightly closer together, which is what gives the vehicle its characteristic shape), and a bar coated with bright red plastic for steering it around. There was nothing to distinguish it from the two hundred other carts that belonged to that enormous supermarket, the biggest and busiest in the neighborhood. Except that the cart I’m referring to was the only one that moved on its own. It did this with infinite discretion: in the tumult that reigned on the premises from opening to closing time, to say nothing of the peak hours, its movement went unnoticed. It was used like all the other carts, filled with food, drink, and cleaning products, unloaded at the cash registers, pushed hurriedly from one aisle to the next, and if the shoppers let it go and saw it roll a fraction of an inch, they assumed that it was being carried along by momentum.

The wonder was only perceptible at night, when the frenzy gave way to an uncanny calm, but there was no one to admire it. Very occasionally, the shelf-stackers starting work at dawn would be surprised to find the cart astray down at the back, next to the deep-freeze cabinets, or between the dark shelves of wine. They naturally assumed that it had been left there by mistake the previous night. In such a large and labyrinthine establishment, oversights like that were only to be expected. If the cart was moving when they found it, and if they noticed the movement, which was as inconspicuous as the sweep of a watch’s minute hand, they presumed that it must have been the result of a slope in the floor or a draft of air.

In fact, the cart had spent the whole night going around and around, up and down the aisles, slow and quiet as a star, without ever hesitating or coming to a stop. It did the rounds of its domain, mysterious, inexplicable, its miraculous essence concealed by the banal appearance of a shopping cart like any other. The employees and the customers were too busy to detect this secret phenomenon, which made no difference, after all, to anyone or anything. I was the only one to notice it, I think. Actually, I’m sure: attention is scarce among human beings, and a great deal of it was required in this case. I didn’t tell anyone, because it was too much like the sort of fantasies I’m always coming up with, which have earned me a reputation for craziness. Over many years of shopping there, I learned to recognize my special cart by a little mark on the red bar; except that I didn’t have to see the mark, because even from a distance something told me that it was the one. A wave of joy and confidence swept through me each time I identified it.

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