百年孤独(英文版)-第59章

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ot　use　on　him。　It　too　was　an　unnecessary　effort　because　Meme　had　no　desire　to　intervene　in　her　father’s　affairs　and　if　she　had；　it　would　certainly　have　been　in　favor　of　the　concubine。　She　had　no　time　to　bother　anybody。　She　herself　swept　her　room　and　made　her　bed；　as　the　nuns　had　taught　her。　In　the　morning　she　took　care　of　her　clothes；　sewing　on　the　porch　or　using　Amaranta’s　old　pedal　machine。　While　the　others　were　taking　their　siestas　she　would　practice　the　clavichord　for　two　hours；　knowing　that　the　daily　sacrifice　would　keep　Fernanda　calm。　For　the　same　reason　she　continued　giving　concerts　at　church　fairs　and　school　parties；　even　though　the　requests　were　less　and　less　frequent。　At　nightfall　she　would　fix　herself　up；　put　on　one　of　her　simple　dresses　and　her　stiff　high　shoes；　and　if　she　had　nothing　to　do　with　her　father　she　would　go　to　the　homes　of　her　girl　friends；　where　she　would　stay　until　dinnertime。　It　was　rare　that　Aureliano　Segundo　would　not　call　for　her　then　to　take　her　to　the　movies。
　　　Among　Meme’s　friends　there　were　three　young　American　girls　who　broke　through　the　electrified　chicken　fence　barrier　and　made　friends　with　girls　from　Macondo。　One　of　them　was　Patricia　Brown。　Grateful　for　the　hospitality　of　Aureliano　Segundo；　Mr。　Brown　opened　the　doors　of　his　house　to　Meme　and　invited　her　to　the　Saturday　dances；　which　were　the　only　ones　where　gringos　and　natives　mingled。　When　Fernanda　found　out　about　it　she　forgot　about　Amaranta　？rsula　and　the　invisible　doctors　for　a　moment　and　became　very　melodramatic。　“Just　think；？she　said　to　Meme；　“what　the　colonel　must　be　thinking　in　his　grave。？She　sought；　of　course；　the　backing　of　？rsula。　But　the　blind　old　woman；　contrary　to　what　everyone　expected；　saw　nothing　reproachable　in　Meme’s　going　to　the　dances　and　making　friends　with　American　girls　her　own　age　as　long　as　she　kept　her　strict　habits　and　was　not　converted　to　the　Protestant　religion。　Meme　sensed　the　thought　of　her　great…great…grandmother　very　well　and　the　day　after　the　dances　she　would　get　up　earlier　than　usual　to　go　to　mass。　Fernanda’s　opposition　lasted　until　the　day　when　Meme　broke　down　her　resistance　with　the　news　that　the　Americans　wanted　to　hear　her　play　the　clavichord。　The　instrument　was　taken　out　of　the　house　again　and　carried　to　Mr。　Brown’s；　where　the　young　concert　artist　really　did　receive　very　sincere　applause　and　the　most　enthusiastic　congratulations。　From　then　on　she　was　invited　not　only　to　the　dances　but　also　to　the　Sunday　swim　parties　in　the　pool　and　to　lunch　once　a　week。　Meme　learned　to　swim　like　a　professional；　to　play　tennis；　and　to　eat　Virginia　ham　with　slices　of　pineapple。　Among　dances；　swimming；　and　tennis　she　soon　found　herself　getting　involved　in　the　English　language。　Aureliano　Segundo　was　so　enthusiastic　over　the　progress　of　his　daughter　that　from　a　traveling　salesman　he　bought　a　six…volume　English　encyclopedia　with　many　color　prints　which　Meme　read　in　her　spare　time。　The　reading　occupied　the　attention　that　she　had　formerly　given　to　gossip　about　sweethearts　and　the　experimental　retreats　that　she　would　go　through　with　her　girl　friends；　not　because　it　was　imposed　as　discipline　but　because　she　had　lost　all　interest　by　then　in　talking　about　mysteries　that　were　in　the　public　domain。　She　looked　back　on　the　drunken　episode　as　an　infantile　adventure　and　it　seemed　so　funny　to　her　that　she　told　Aureliano　Segundo　about　it　and　he　thought　it　was　more　amusing　than　she　did。　“If　your　mother　only　knew；？he　told　her；　doubling　up　with　laughter；　as　he　always　said　when　he　told　her　something　in　confidence。　He　had　made　her　promise　that　she　would　let　him　know　about　her　first　love　affair　with　the　same　confidence；　and　Meme　told　him　that　she　liked　a　redheaded　American　boy　who　had　e　to　spend　his　vacation　with　his　parents。　“What　do　you　know；？Aureliano　Segundo　said；　laughing。　“If　your　mother　only　knew。？But　Meme　also　told　him　that　the　boy　had　gone　back　to　his　country　and　had　disappeared　from　sight。　The　maturity　of　her　judgment　ensured　peace　in　the　family。　Aureliano　Segundo　then　devoted　more　time　to　Petra　Cotes；　and　although　his　body　and　soul　no　longer　permitted　him　the　debauches　of　days　gone　by；　he　lost　no　chance　to　arrange　them　and　to　dig　out　the　accordion；　which　by　then　had　some　keys　held　in　place　by　shoelaces。　At　home；　Amaranta　was　weaving　her　interminable　shroud　and　？rsula　dragged　about　in　her　decrepitude　through　the　depths　of　the　shadows　where　the　only　thing　that　was　still　visible　was　the　ghost　of　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　under　the　chestnut　tree。　Fernanda　consolidated　her　authority。　Her　monthly　letters　to　her　son　Jos？Arcadio　at　that　time　did　not　carry　a　string　of　lies　and　she　hid　from　him　only　her　correspondence　with　the　invisible　doctors；　who　had　diagnosed　a　benign　tumor　in　her　large　intestine　and　were　preparing　her　for　a　telepathic　operation。
　　　It　might　have　been　aid　that　peace　and　happiness　reigned　for　a　long　time　in　the　tired　mansion　of　the　Buendías　if　it　had　not　been　for　the　sudden　death　of　Amaranta；　which　caused　a　new　uproar。　It　was　an　unexpected　event。　Although　she　was　old　and　isolated　from　everyone；　she　still　looked　firm　and　upright　and　with　the　health　of　a　rock　that　she　had　always　had。　No　one　knew　her　thoughts　since　the　afternoon　on　which　she　had　given　Colonel　Gerineldo　Márquez　his　final　rejection　and　shut　herself　up　to　weep。　She　was　not　seen　to　cry　during　the　ascension　to　heaven　of　Remedios　the　Beauty　or　over　the　extermination　of　the　Aurelianos　or　the　death　of　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía；　who　was　the　person　she　loved　most　in　this　world；　although　she　showed　it　only　when　they　found　his　body　under　the　chestnut　tree。　She　helped　pick　up　the　body。　She　dressed　him　in　his　soldier’s　uniform；　shaved　him；　bed　his　hair；　and　waxed　his　mustache　better　than　he　had　ever　done　in　his　days　of　glory。　No　one　thought　that　there　was　any　love　in　that　act　because　they　were　accustomed　to　the　familiarity　of　Amaranta　with　the　rites　of　death。　Fernanda　was　scandalized　that　she　did　not　understand　the　relationship　of　Catholicism　with　life　but　only　its　relationship　with　death；　as　if　it　were　not　a　religion　but　a　pendium　of　funeral　conventions。　Amaranta　was　too　wrapped　up　in　the　eggplant　patch　of　her　memories　to　understand　those　subtle　apologetics。　She　had　reached　old　age　with　all　of　her　nostalgias　intact。　When　she　listened　to　the　waltzes　of　Pietro　Crespi　she　felt　the　same　desire　to　weep　that　she　had　had　in　adolescence；　as　if　time　and　harsh　lessons　had　meant　nothing。　The　rolls　of　music　that　she　herself　had　thrown　into　the　trash　with　the　pretext　that　they　had　rotted　from　dampness　kept　spinning　and　playing　in　her　memory。　She　had　tried　to　sink　them　into　the　swampy　passion　that　she　allowed　herself　with　her　nephew　Aureliano　Jos？and　she　tried　to　take　refuge　in　the　calm　and　virile　protection　of　Colonel　Gerineldo　Márquez；　but　she　had　not　been　able　to　overe　them；　not　even　with　the　most　desperate　act　of　her　old　age　when　she　would　bathe　the　small　Jos？Arcadio　three　years　before　he　was　sent　to　the　seminary　and　caress　him　not　as　a　grandmother　would　have　done　with　a　grandchild；　but　as　a　woman　would　have　done　with　a　man；　as　it　was　said　that　the　French　matrons　did　and　as　she　had　wanted　to　do　with　Pietro　Crespi　at　the　age　of　twelve；　fourteen；　when　she　saw　him　in　his　dancing　tights　and　with　the　magic　wand　with　which　he　kept　time　to　the　metronome。　At　times　It　pained　her　to　have　let　that　outpouring　of　misery　follow　its　course；　and　at　times　it　made　her　so　angry　that　she　would　prick　her　fingers　with　the　needles；　but　what　pained　her　most　and　enraged　her　most　and　made　her　most　bitter　was　the　fragrant　and　wormy　guava　grove　of　love　that　was　dragging　her　toward　death。　Just　as　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　thought　about　his　war；　unable　to　avoid　it；　so　Amaranta　thought　about　Rebeca。　But　while　her　brother　had　managed　to　sterilize　his　memories；　she　had　only　managed　to　make　hers　more　scalding。　The　only　thing　that　she　asked　of　God　for　many　years　was　that　he　would　not　visit　on　her　the　punishment　of　dying　before　Rebeca。　Every　time　she　passed　by　her　house　and　noted　the　progress　of　destruction　she　took　fort　in　the　idea　that　God　was　listening　to　her。　One　afternoon；　when　she　was　sewing　on　the　porch；　she　was　assailed　by　the　certainty　that　she　would　be　sitting　in　that　place；　in　the　same　position；　and　under　the　same　light　when　they　brought　her　the　news　of　Rebeca’s　death。　She　sat　down　to　wait　for　it；　as　one　waits　for　a　letter；　and　the　fact　was　that　at　one　time　she　would　pull　off　buttons　to　sew　them　on　again　so　that　inactivity　would　not　make　the　wait　longer　and　more　anxious。　No　one　in　the　house　realized　that　at　that　time　Amaranta　was　sewing　a　fine　shroud　for　Rebeca。　Later　on；　when　Aureliano　Triste　told　how　he　had　seen　her　changed　into　an　apparition　with　leathery　skin　and　a　few　golden　threads　on　her　skull；　Amaranta　was　not　surprised　because　the　specter　described　was　exactly　what　she　had　been　imagining　for　some　time。　She　had　decided　to　restore　Rebeca’s　corpse；　to　disguise　with　paraffin　the　damage　to　her　face　and　make　a　wig　for　her　from　the　hair　of　the　saints。　She　would　manufacture　a　beautiful　corpse；　with　the　linen　shroud　and　a　plush…lined　coffin　with　purple　trim。　and　she　would　put　it　at　the　disposition　of　the　worms　with　splendid　funeral　ceremonies。　She　worked　out　the　plan　with　such　hatred　that　it　made　he