Reframing Latin America: A Cultural Theory Reading ... - BGSU Blogs

oom goes the literature 283
and I tried not to see the bodies that fl oated in the water to avoid the tears. I
began to count the small fruit that hung from the broken branches: they were
dry and when I touched them with my fi ngers the red rinds fell from them.
I don’t know why that seemed a bad omen, but I preferred to look at the
sky, which began to grow dark. First it became brown, then it began to take
on the color of those drowned in the canals. I sat there remembering the
colors of other afternoons. But the afternoon became bruised, swelling, as if
suddenly it was going to burst and I realized that time was up. If my cousin
didn’t return, what would become of me? Perhaps he was already dead in
battle. His fate no longer mattered to me and I left that place as fast as I
could, pursued by my own fear. ‘When he arrives and looks for me . . .’ 14
I didn’t have time to fi nish my thought because I found myself in the twilight
of Mexico City. ‘Margarita must have fi nished her vanilla ice cream
and Pablo must be very mad.’ A taxi took me home on the beltway. And do
you know, Nachita, that the beltways were those canals infested with cadavers?
15 That is why I arrived so sad . . . Now, Nachita, don’t tell the señor
that I spent the night with my husband.”
Nachita settled her hand over her lilac skirt.
“Señor Pablo has already been gone ten days to Acapulco. He became
very weak during the weeks of the investigation,” explained Nachita with
satisfaction.
Laura looked at her without surprise and sighed with relief.
“The one who is up there is señora Margarita,” added Nacha, raising her
eyes to the kitchen ceiling.
Laura clasped her knees and looked out the windows at the roses erased
by the nocturnal shadows and at the lights to the neighboring windows that
were beginning to go out.
Nachita poured salt over the back of her hand and ate it as if it were
candy.
“So many coyotes! The pack is excited!” she said with a voice full of
salt. 16
Laura sat still, listening a few moments. “Damned animals, you should
have seen them this afternoon,” she said.
“As long as they don’t obstruct the señor’s travel or make him take the
wrong road,” commented Nacha, afraid. 17
“If he’s never been afraid of them, why should he be afraid of them
tonight?” asked Laura, irritated.
Nacha drew close to her employer to emphasize the sudden intimacy
established between them. “They are weaker than the Tlaxcaltecas,” she
told her in a low voice.