All The Names - Jose Saramago

in itself, was already a danger, for example, let us suppose that either of them, with the praiseworthy aim
of helping him in his search, as befits a good citizen, should appear at the Central Registry during his
absence, I'd like to speak to Senhor José, Senhor José isn't here, he's on holiday, Oh, that's a shame, I've
got some important information for him about the person he was looking for, What information, what
person, Senhor José didn't even want to think about what would follow, the rest of the conversation
between the woman with the jealous husband and the senior clerk, I found a journal underneath a loose
floorboard in my room, You mean a magazine, No, sir, a journal, a diary, the kind of thing some people
like to keep, I used to keep one before I got married, And what's that got to do with us, here at the Central
Registry we're only interested in knowing who's born and who dies, Perhaps the diary I found belongs to
some relative of the person that Senhor José has been looking for, I didn't know Senhor José was looking
for anyone, besides, it's not a matter that affects the Central Registry the Central Registry does not get
involved in the private lives of its staff, It's not private, Senhor José told me he was acting on behalf of
the Central Registry, Wait there and I'll call the deputy, but when the deputy came over to the counter, the
elderly lady from the ground-floor apartment was already leaving, life had taught her that the best way to
protect your own secrets is to respect other people's, When Senhor José gets back from his holidays,
would you mind telling him that the old lady from the ground-floor apartment was here, Don't you want to
leave your name, It's not necessary, he'll know who I am. Senhor José could breathe easily, the lady in the
ground-floor apartment was discretion itself, she would never tell the deputy that she had just received a
letter from her goddaughter, The flu has addled my brains, he thought, these are just fantasies, there aren't
any diaries hidden beneath floorboards, and, after a silence of so many years, she wouldn't suddenly think
to write a letter to her godmother, just as well the old lady had the good sense not to give her name, the
Central Registry would only have to get hold of that one loose thread to find out everything, the copying of
the record cards, the forging of the letter, it would be as easy for them as putting together a jigsaw puzzle
while looking at the picture on the lid of the box. Senhor José went back home, on that first day he
preferred not to follow the advice the deputy had given him, to go for walks, go to a garden and feel the
good sun on his pale convalescent's face, in a word, to recover the strength that the fever had drained from
him. He needed to decide what steps he should take from then on, but he needed above all to quell an
anxiety. He had left his small house there at the mercy of the Central Registry, clinging to the monstrous
wall as if it were about to be swallowed up by it. There must have been some remnant of fever lingering
in his brain for that idea to occur to him, that this was what had happened to the other staff houses, all
devoured by the Central Registry so that it could extend its walls. Senhor José quickened his step, if,
when he got there, the house had disappeared, and the record cards and the notebook along with it, he
didn't even want to imagine such a misfortune, the efforts of weeks all reduced to nothing, the dangers he
had gone through all in vain. Curious people would be there asking him if he had lost anything of value in
the disaster, and he would say yes, Some papers, and they would ask again, Shares, Bonds, Credits, that's
the first thing that would occur to ordinary people, people with no spiritual horizons, their thoughts are all
concerned with material interests and gains, he would say yes, mentally giving different meanings to those
words, they would be his share in other people's lives, the bonds he had begun to form, the credit he had
gained.
The house was there, but it seemed much smaller, unless the Central Registry had grown in size in the
last few hours. Senhor José went in, lowering his head, even though it wasn't necessary to do so, the street
door was the same height it had always been, and, as far as one could see, those shares, bonds and credits
had not made him grow physically in size. He went and listened at the communicating door, not because
he expected to hear the sound of voices from the other side, it was the custom at the Central Registry to
work in silence, but to assuage the confused feelings of suspicion he had felt ever since the Registrar had
ordered him to take some holiday time. Then he went and lifted the mattress on the bed, removed the
record cards and set them out in chronological order on the table, from the oldest to the most recent,