百年孤独(英文版)-第75章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


at　the　child　had　inherited　the　anarchist　ideas　of　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　and　told　him　to　be　quiet。　Aureliano　Segundo；　on　the　other　hand；　recognized　his　twin　brother’s　version。　Actually；　in　spite　of　the　fact　that　everyone　considered　him　mad；　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　was　at　that　time　the　most　lucid　inhabitant　of　the　house。　He　taught　little　Aureliano　how　to　read　and　write；　initiated　him　in　the　study　of　the　parchments；　and　he　inculcated　him　with　such　a　personal　interpretation　of　what　the　banana　pany　had　meant　to　Macondo　that　many　years　later；　when　Aureliano　became　part　of　the　world；　one　would　have　thought　that　he　was　telling　a　hallucinated　version；　because　it　was　radically　opposed　to　the　false　one　that　historians　had　created　and　consecrated　in　the　schoolbooks。　In　the　small　isolated　room　where　the　arid　air　never　penetrated；　nor　the　dust；　nor　the　heat；　both　had　the　atavistic　vision　of　an　old　man；　his　back　to　the　window；　wearing　a　hat　with　a　brim　like　the　wings　of　a　crow　who　spoke　about　the　world　many　years　before　they　had　been　born。　Both　described　at　the　same　time　how　it　was　always　March　there　and　always　Monday；　and　then　they　understood　that　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　was　not　as　crazy　as　the　family　said；　but　that　he　was　the　only　one　who　had　enough　lucidity　to　sense　the　truth　of　the　fact　that　time　also　stumbled　and　had　accidents　and　could　therefore　splinter　and　leave　an　eternalized　fragment　in　a　room。　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　had　managed；　furthermore；　to　classify　the　cryptic　letters　of　the　parchments。　He　was　certain　that　they　corresponded　to　an　alphabet　of　forty…seven　to　fifty…three　characters；　which　when　separated　looked　like　scratching　and　scribbling；　and　which　in　the　fine　hand　of　Melquíades　looked　like　pieces　of　clothing　put　out　to　dry　on　a　line。　Aureliano　remembered　having　seen　a　similar　table　in　the　English　encyclopedia；　so　he　brought　it　to　the　room　to　pare　it　with　that　of　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo。　They　were　indeed　the　same。
　　　Around　the　time　of　the　riddle　lottery；　Aureliano　Segundo　began　waking　up　with　a　knot　in　his　throat；　as　if　he　were　repressing　a　desire　to　weep。　Petra　Cotes　interpreted　it　as　one　more　of　so　many　upsets　brought　on　by　the　bad　situation；　and　every　morning　for　over　a　year　she　would　touch　his　palate　with　a　dash　of　honey　and　give　him　some　radish　syrup。　When　the　knot　in　his　throat　became　so　oppressive　that　it　was　difficult　for　him　to　breathe；　Aureliano　Segundo　visited　Pilar　Ternera　to　see　if　she　knew　of　some　herb　that　would　give　him　relief。　The　dauntless　grandmother；　who　had　reached　a　hundred　years　of　age　managing　a　small；　clandestine　brothel；　did　not　trust　therapeutic　superstitions；　so　she　turned　the　matter　over　to　her　cards。　She　saw　the　queen　of　diamonds　with　her　throat　wounded　by　the　steel　of　the　jack　of　spades；　and　she　deduced　that　Fernanda　was　trying　to　get　her　husband　back　home　by　means　of　the　discredited　method　of　sticking　pins　into　his　picture　but　that　she　had　brought　on　an　internal　tumor　because　of　her　clumsy　knowledge　of　the　black　arts。　Since　Aureliano　Segundo　had　no　other　pictures　except　those　of　his　wedding　and　the　copies　were　all　in　the　family　album；　he　kept　searching　all　through　the　house　when　his　wife　was　not　looking；　and　finally；　in　the　bottom　of　the　dresser；　he　came　across　a　half…dozen　pessaries　in　their　original　boxes。　Thinking　that　the　small　red　rubber　rings　were　objects　of　witchcraft　he　put　them　in　his　pocket　so　that　Pilar　Ternera　could　have　a　look　at　them。　She　could　not　determine　their　nature；　but　they　looked　so　suspicious　to　her　that　in　any　case　she　burned　them　in　a　bonfire　she　built　in　the　courtyard。　In　order　to　conjure　away　Fernanda’s　alleged　curse；　she　told　Aureliano　Segundo　that　he　should　soak　a　broody　hen　and　bury　her　alive　under　the　chestnut　tree；　and　he　did　it　with　such　good　faith　that　when　he　finished　hiding　the　turned…up　earth　with　dried　leaves　he　already　felt　that　he　was　breathing　better。　For　her　part；　Fernanda　interpreted　the　disappearance　as　a　reprisal　by　the　invisible　doctors　and　she　sewed　a　pocket　of　casing　to　the　inside　of　her　camisole　where　she　kept　the　new　pessaries　that　her　son　sent　her。
　　　Six　months　after　he　had　buried　the　hen；　Aureliano　Segundo　woke　up　at　midnight　with　an　attack　of　coughing　and　the　feeling　that　he　was　being　strangled　within　by　the　claws　of　a　crab。　It　was　then　that　he　understood　that　for　all　of　the　magical　pessaries　that　he　destroyed　and　all　the　conjuring　hens　that　he　soaked；　the　single　and　sad　piece　of　truth　was　that　he　was　dying。　He　did　not　tell　anyone。　Tormented　by　the　fear　of　dying　without　having　sent　Amaranta　？rsula　to　Brussels；　he　worked　as　he　had　never　done；　and　instead　of　one　he　made　three　weekly　raffles。　From　very　early　in　the　morning　he　could　be　seen　going　through　the　town；　even　in　the　most　outlying　and　miserable　sections；　trying　to　sell　tickets　with　an　anxiety　that　could　only　be　conceivable　in　a　dying　man。　“Here’s　Divine　Providence；？he　hawked。　“Don’t　let　it　get　away；　because　it　only　es　every　hundred　years。？He　made　pitiful　efforts　to　appear　gay；　pleasant；　talkative；　but　it　was　enough　to　see　his　sweat　and　paleness　to　know　that　his　heart　was　not　in　it。　Sometimes　he　would　go　to　vacant　lots；　where　no　one　could　see　him；　and　sit　down　to　rest　from　the　claws　that　were　tearing　him　apart　inside。　Even　at　midnight　he　would　be　in　the　red…light　district　trying　to　console　with　predictions　of　good　luck　the　lonely　women　who　were　weeping　beside　their　phonographs。　“This　number　hasn’t　e　up　in　four　months；？he　told　them；　showing　them　the　tickets。　“Don’t　let　it　get　away；　life　is　shorter　than　you　think。？They　finally　lost　respect　for　him；　made　fun　of　him；　and　in　his　last　months　they　no　longer　called　him　Don　Aureliano；　as　they　had　always　done；　but　they　called　him　Mr。　Divine　Providence　right　to　his　face。　His　voice　was　being　filled　with　wrong　notes。　It　was　getting　out　of　tune；　and　it　finally　diminished　into　the　growl　of　a　dog；　but　he　still　had　the　drive　to　see　that　there　should　be　no　diminishing　of　the　hope　people　brought　to　Petra　Cates’s　courtyard。　As　he　lost　his　voice；　however；　and　realized　that　in　a　short　time　he　would　be　unable　to　bear　the　pain；　he　began　to　understand　that　it　was　not　through　raffled　pigs　and　goats　that　his　daughter　would　get　to　Brussels；　so　he　conceived　the　idea　of　organizing　the　fabulous　raffle　of　the　lands　destroyed　by　the　deluge；　which　could　easily　be　restored　by　a　person　with　the　money　to　do　so。　It　was　such　a　spectacular　undertaking　that　the　mayor　himself　lent　his　aid　by　announcing　it　in　a　proclamation；　and　associations　were　formed　to　buy　tickets　at　one　hundred　pesos　apiece　and　they　were　sold　out　in　less　than　a　week。　The　night　of　the　raffle　the　winners　held　a　huge　celebration；　parable　only　to　those　of　the　good　days　of　the　banana　pany；　and　Aureliano　Segundo；　for　the　last　time；　played　the　forgotten　songs　of　Francisco　the　Man　on　the　accordion；　but　he　could　no　longer　sing　them。
　　　Two　months　later　Amaranta　？rsula　went　to　Brussels。　Aureliano　Segundo　gave　her　not　only　the　money　from　the　special　raffle；　but　also　what　he　had　managed　to　put　aside　over　the　previous　months　and　what　little　he　had　received　from　the　sale　of　the　pianola；　the　clavichord；　and　other　junk　that　had　fallen　into　disrepair。　　According　to　his　calculations；　that　sum　would　be　enough　for　her　studies；　so　that　all　that　was　lacking　was　the　price　of　her　fare　back　home。　Fernanda　was　against　the　trip　until　the　last　moment；　scandalized　by　the　idea　that　Brussels　was　so　close　to　Paris　and　its　perdition；　but　she　calmed　down　with　the　letter　that　Father　Angel　gave　her　addressed　to　a　boardinghouse　run　by　nuns　for　Catholic　young　ladies　where　Amaranta　？rsula　promised　to　stay　until　her　studies　were　pleted。　Furthermore；　the　parish　priest　arranged　for　her　to　travel　under　the　care　of　a　group　of　Franciscan　nuns　who　were　going　to　Toledo；　where　they　hoped　to　find　dependable　people　to　acpany　her　to　Belgium。　While　the　urgent　correspondence　that　made　the　coordination　possible　went　forward；　Aureliano　Segundo；　aided　by　Petra　Cates；　prepared　Amaranta　？rsula’s　baggage。　The　night　on　which　they　were　packing　one　of　Fernanda’s　bridal　trunks；　the　things　were　so　well　organized　that　the　schoolgirl　knew　by　heart　which　were　the　suits　and　cloth　slippers　she　could　wear　crossing　the　Atlantic　and　the　blue　cloth　coat　with　copper　buttons　and　the　cordovan　shoes　she　would　wear　when　she　landed。　She　also　knew　how　to　walk　so　as　not　to　fall　into　the　water　as　she　went　up　the　gangplank；　that　at　no　time　was　she　to　leave　the　pany　of　the　nuns　or　leave　her　cabin　except　to　eat；　and　that　for　no　reason　was　she　to　answer　the　questions　asked　by　people　of　any　sex　while　they　were　at　sea。　She　carried　a　small　bottle　with　drops　for　seasickness　and　a　notebook　written　by　Father　Angel　in　his　own　hand　containing　six　prayers　to　be　used　against　storms。　Fernanda　made　her　a　canvas　belt　to　keep　her　money　in；　and　she　would　not　have　to　take　it　off　even　to　sleep。　She　tried　to　give　her　the　chamberpot；　washed　out　with　lye　and　disinfected　with　alcohol；　but　Amaranta　？rsula　refused　it　for　fear　that　her　schoolmates　would　make　fun　of　her。　A　few　months　later；　at　the　hour　of　his　death；　Aureliano　Segundo　would　remember　her　as　he　had　seen　her　for　the　last　time　as　she　tried　unsuccessfully　to　lower　the　window　of　the　second…class　coach　to　hear　Fernanda’s　last　piece　of　advice。　She　was　wearing　a