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INTERMEZZO

Hay dos clases de personas en este mundo, las que pueden cocinar, y las que no. Eso no se enseña -se puede supervisar, guiar, aconsejar Le podras enseñar a alimentarse a alguien, pero a cocinar, jamás

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O tienes gusto o no lo tienes Y aquí necesitamos gente con gusto _____________ All global rockstars are local rockstars first

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+++++++ The windshield shatters. He starts yelling. 'Who the fuck -what the fuck- who's gonna pay for this...' He doesn't even slow down! I'm trying to brush the glass off my blouse and your father's speeding down the pan-american at a hundred and fifty kilometers

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'Don't you think we should slow down?' I tell him 'I'm not stopping in the middle of this darkness.' 'But we have no windshield.' 'This isn't a safe place to stop.' 'Could you at least slow down... this is ridiculous.' 'Leny, listen to me: we're not thinking of slowing down until we see some lights, ok?' 'Someone could be hurt back there!' 'Or we'll get hurt back there. We can't think about anything until we find a place with lights.' +++++

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Art is about the unsaid ++++++

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One of my aims became to never follow a warning label +++++++ We found a gas station.

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There was a young guy behind the counter. __________

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My greatest epiphany was realizing that I could make art designed to be left behind Not something you want to take with you But something to throw away to haul out with the trash And yet -something someone else might be tempted to keep And drag it home with them My art needed to be useless yet full of possibilities But most importantly It needed to be heavy.

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__________ La Web is el mejor invento desde la televisión Es incomparable Los bobos te hablan de viajes espaciales, de los submarinos más

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grandes del mundo La tecnología que expande la mente Es la única moral que queda _______________

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The young guy offers us a ride to his cousin's place Says his cousin has a tow truck and they can give us a lift to the next town over Says we're lucky we caught him -he was closing up He counts some cash while your father and I stock up on junkfood The he shuts off the Gas Station sign and kills the lights and we step out into the night air again, i hear crickets we get back in the car, pull back out into the panamerican and follow the guy's car slowly up the road

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______ A few kilometers up the road we veer off into an improvised exit, up a hill and onto a dirt road I can smell the night air and it smells of orange flowers Your father's driving and clearing square chunks of security glass from the windshield frame; he's checking for blood 'See,' he says. 'If there's no blood there's no harm no foul' 'Whatever broke crashed against us could be lying dead at the side of the road.'

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'There's no blood, Leny. It was a tree. Or a rock. Some kids playing with rocks.' 'That didn't sound like a rock,' I say. 'And I haven't seen a child in over a week.' ________________

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Hairstylists are artists because everyone at some point is convinced they can cut their own hair and then they see the results and then you learn that some things are better left to professionals _________

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The single sanest thing you can do to remain sane is to have a double life The second sanest is remaining childless

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__________________ My goddaughter stops walking and asks me: 'What happens when I die?' Birds sing. 'The story ends,' I reply. 'At least your story ends, all the other stories continue.' 'There are other stories?' 'You have no idea,' I stop. 'Are you just realizing this now?' 'I was thinking about it last cycle,' she says. 'La Yin's cockerpooniel disappeared. La Yesi say's she's dead.' 'Who's dead?'

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'La Yuni.' 'Who's La Yuni?' 'The cockerspooniel, Tía. You never listen to me.' 'I listen, I do nothing but listen. But all those names start sounding the same.' 'So what happens?' 'Next?' 'When I die.' 'Nothing.' 'What do you mean nothing?' she says. Such innocence. 'Nothing happens. It all stops and you finally have time to read.' 'To read? To read what?' 'Whatever you want, it doesn't matter. Only you know what you like to read.' 'So when I die I can read?' 'As long as you want -you never get sleepy and you never have to get up until you want to finish reading.' 'That doesn't sound so bad,' she says

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'It isn't -make sure you read the finest things' We reach the end of the boardwalk and her hand is still locked inside mine. 'But La Yuni can't read' 'What?' 'La Yuni, the cockerspooniel, she doesn't read, she's just a bitch.' 'Don't worry,' I say. 'Dead bitches get to watch movies.' +++++++

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There are two types of bitches in this colony: mixes and inbreds. And they don't get along, never have

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+++++++ Inbreds carry big purses everywhere they go. They're constantly on their iPhones. They try hard at everything they do. A little too hard.

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++++++++ We fastforward through other people's stories because we think their time is less valuable than ours. The older you are and the slower you move the more likely we will skip through it.

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___________ A tu padre lo botaron de su trabajo y llego a casa anunciando: 'Compré un restaurante.' Mi hermana Ely nunca ha hervido un huevo en su perra vida, así que vinieron donde mi a pedirme ayuda.

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+++++++ The truth is that few old people are cool what can I say it's true that all of the good die young so then only the mean old men remain and the mousy women and the conservatives get more conservative

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and the liberals become conservative and everyone is just terrified to die and it makes them mean and greedy and it all so dull And everyone gets sick and forgets and only the healthy ones remain bored waiting waiting for a train that never comes

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+++++++++++++ Lo que más recuerdo son las olas +++++++++++++

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You know I once lived in San Blas for a while and when I first arrived I remember standing on the boat observing the women talk to each other in the distance, wondering what on earth did they chirp to each other in that sweet language of theirs Now I know the answer of course: Gossip ___________

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I have come to the conclusion that humanity is nothing but fighting machines for the entertainment of kings +++++++

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Demasiadas niñas tontas se pasan su vida queriendo ser bonitas cuando deben aspirar a ser cool. Interesantes. Una niña que no sabe cocinar es solterona asegurada. Las que no pueden leer no pueden pensar. +++++

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I don't check my voicemails because it's crazy. who cares what you said to a machine three hours ago? call me again. if its that important, call me again or wait a week and I'll call you back and you'll thank me for it

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____________

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Epilogue: Nineteen years later lipitoids became widely accepted and finally entered the mainstream markets. Two years later Belgian scientists successfully transliterated personal broadcasts into mass messages aimed at willing recipients. Ten years after that the first subcutaneous broadcast chip was patented. It was implanted into Patient Zero. From there followed the forging and strengthening of La Web and long decades of experimentation. Human thoughts beamed across the planet in a unified blanket of understanding that brought about an era of peace and prosperity theretofore unknown to man. Then the seeds that provide the active ingredient in lipitoids begin to falter -a suspected overbreeding- panic takes its toll and crops around the world start showing signs of infertility until generation after generation fall fallow. In a desperate attempt at manufacturing artificial lipitoids two

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British researchers working in a Paris lab tune their broadcast receptors into a previously undetected part of the spectrum. It takes several decades before the feeds in these uncharted regions can be decrypted and documented. At the height of the pre-war years, a team of scientists in the United States publish an exhaustive compendium of the contents in the feeds of the newly discovered spectrum. They call these collected volumes 'The Unspoken : Dispatches From Beyond The Great NeuroWall' and the books quickly become the most reproduced piece of human text in recorded history. Two years later the wars began. ________________

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The guy from the gas station wakes up his cousins and your father and I wait in the living room while the two men dress in identical clothes and brew a pot of coffee. They seem to speak in their own private language. El tipo de la estación despierta a sus primos y tu padre y yo nos sentamos en la sala mientras estos dos hombres se visten con ropas idénticas y se disponen a hervir café. Parecen hablar en una lengua privada, excluyendo aun hasta el primo quien se mantiene parado en el umbral de la cocina, ojeando unos catálogos. Nadie nos ofrece algo de tomar, ni siquiera agua.

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Los gemelos comen en silencio, se ponen overoles y amarran los lazos de sus botas con los mismos lazos, sincronizados. 'Tiene plata?' le pregunta uno a tu padre. 'Si.' 'Venga pues' Después de una coreografía complicadísima que involucra muchos gritos y órdenes, muchos beeps y acarreo de motores y cadenas, nos subimos de vuelta al carro. Viajamos como sheiks en camellos, casi en silencio. 'Porque no quitastes la mano?' me dice 'De que hablas?' 'Hace un rato, te tomé la mano y no la quitastes' 'Que se yo,' le miento. 'Capaz que ni me di cuenta.' 'Como no te vas a dar cuenta de que la única otra persona en el carro te toma de la mano? 'No se si recuerdas esto, pero en esos momentos estabamos viviendo un terrible accidente.' 'Entonces si te distes cuenta.'

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'Me di cuenta que nunca mas me voy a montar en un carro contigo' No responde. Me imagino que está acostumbrado a lidiar con gruas y extraños en medio de la nada, a llevar plata consigo y poder comprar algo de orden en medio del caos. 'Voy a descansar,' le digo. 'Echa el asiento atrás.' Tiro la manivela pero se atasca con algo; tiro más fuerte. Nada. 'Tu carro es una mierda.' Me quito el cinturón y subo entre los dos asientos, a ver si puedo estirarme atrás, a ver si no quedó muy lleno de vidrios. En ese momento la grúa da un girón para esquivar un hueco o un animal y pierdo el balance y caigo de bruces en el asiento trasero. Mi cabeza choca contra algo metálico 'Que fue eso?' pregunta tu padre 'Mi cabeza, Tuto' le digo. 'Prende la luz, hay algo aquí.' A tu padre le toma un momento encontrar la perilla de la luz. Mis manos exploran el objeto a tientas, mis dedos sobre la superficie sin irregularidades, fría en unas partes pero caliente en otras.

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'La luz, Tuto!' 'Ya voy,' dice. 'Acuérdate que el carro es nuevo.' Por fin encuentra el switch y prende la luz y se voltea a ver lo que tengo ya en mis manos. Hasta el día de hoy cada vez que nos vemos veo en su cara la expresión que me recuerda aquella noche en el carro, cuando se dió la vuelta y me vió cargando como un bebé una cosa sólida y cilíndrica complicada y claramente militar que a todas luces es una bomba. ____________

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Mi primera misión en el restaurante fue conseguir una asistente que me ayudara a cocinar Mas de quince niñas vinieron a preguntar por el trabajo y les dije que primero tenían que venir una tarde y ayudarme con la cena. Una prueba para poder decidir. Algunas te dabas cuenta inmediatamente que nos servían para nada: todo so les caía de las manos, o tenían que medir cada ingrediente en multiples tazas antes de echarlo a la olla. Incluso algunas se tomaban las cervezas sin preguntar, o se preparaban sendas viandas que apartaban para ellas mismas aun antes de servirle a los clientes. La primera semana una hasta trato de meterle mano a la caja registradora. Pero lo más claro era que en los primero cinco minutos ya yo me he dado cuenta si pueden cocinar o no. Se ve en el orden de la preparación, en la actitud ante la comida Asi fui depurando a las candidatas, quedándome con las más artistas hasta que quedaron dos Y a esas dos las invite juntas a que me ayudaran un fin de semana entero, con paga. A que conocieran bien a tus padres.

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Una de las niñas no duró ni la primera noche. Se le puso impertinente a unos clientes y despues furibunda porque tu padre no dejaba de mandarla y criticarla. Se largó mucho antes que cerraramos sin siquiera reclamar su plata. Solo dijo que la llamaban en su casa y no la vimos más. La otra casi ni habló y no hacía más que sonreir a los clientes. Cortaba los vegetales sin mirar y no dejo quemar nada en el aceite caliente así que al final del turno tu padre le dijo que regresara al día siguiente y el siguiente a ese Y hoy, esa muchacha que escogí de todas es tu mamá. ____________

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El artista debe acostumbrarse a trabajar en cámara lenta. Un poquito aquí, un poquito acá. Tomarse dos años descascarillando la pintura de una puerta para no dañar la madera. Eso lo aprendí de Alfredo. ________

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When I met him I already knew he was a fuck-up. The black sheep of the family. Everybody told me the same stories: he crashes every car he ever drives, he crashes every business, he can't get a thing right. Yet they all knew his name, and they all talked about him as if they just had drinks with him last night. In the tiny world of Isthmus that means you're doing something right. Almost every single person in Isthmus is scared of the same thing: of people talking about them behind their back. 'El Que Dirán.' But your dad didn't care about that. For all accounts he barely took notice of it. After years of hearing his name mentioned in relation to all kinds of outrageous stories, all night-parties and the like, some girlfriend of mine finally pointed him out to me one day at a large dinnerparty. 'That's him.' she said. 'He just came in'

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'Who?' 'The guy I've been talking to you about, with the car crashes and the girlfriends.' 'Which one?' I ask. I had formed a very clear image of him in my mind already. 'The tall one with the nice haircut? 'Don't be silly,' she says. 'That's Jaime Alberto Alemán.' I didn't go out much in those circles. I was always busy studying something or helping my mother out. I recognized some of the faces at this dinnerparty, but I couldn't peg them with names. People have walked up to me all night and kissing my cheek and kissing my hand and I honestly don't know who eighty percent of them were. I'm afraid I've just got no mind for such things. Just then the crowd parts a little and reveals a short little man, dark hair, dark skin, sunglasses. He does not have a nice haircut. 'That's him' says my girlfriend and rushes to say hello. She grabs my wrist and leads me down the stairs. 'That's Elías' He whips off his glasses and meets a couple of friends with hugs and kisses. I remember him laughing. He's laughing the most wonderful laugh.

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_______ It turns out that researchers who studied and tallied La Web were able to map out 3D models of a juicy piece of gossip as it makes its way through the population It starts out thick and heavy, circulating endlessly back and forth among those with strong social connections -people heavily invested in updates and counteropinions By graphing the incidence rate of popular words the researchers

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can visualize the evolving message, simplifying as it spreads, as irrelevant details and meanderings fall aside. Until it filters a generation or two upwards (rarely down) and is distilled to a ten-word essence: 'the child of so-and-so got in trouble with [blank]' __________

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I didn't wait to be introduced. I greeted him as if I had known him all my life. I almost inquired about his family but luckily I stopped myself. It didn't take long until we were promenading alone on the balcony. 'I've never met you before tonight, have I?' 'No,' I admit. 'Sorry about that.' 'Thats what I thought,' he says. 'I'm absolutely sure I would have remembered you.' 'I've just heard so much about you, I feel like I know you already.' 'Them, huh?' he points back to a group of our common friends inside. They've been staring and whispering to each other but now they pretend to look away, joke and laugh. 'You're a regular celebrity around these parts,' I tell him. 'I am no local celebrity,' he stops and takes my arm in his. He looks in my eyes. 'I am an Isthmus superstar.'

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_____________ The best relationship you can have is where you envision your current lover as your ex-lover the good ex-lover

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the who teaches you the one who prepares you for the real relationship that follows and you will not have that relationship unless you learn to cook you have to learn to cook _________

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The Central Message Of The Bible Is That You Shouldn't Get Into Politics Promise me you will never get into politics. __________________ The best lie you can tell someone is that you're busy

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It's perfect and works everytime ____________

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I guess you could call it a secret love affair but we really had nothing to hide it was completely innocent ____________________

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He was just fun. That's all. Everyone else I knew was always worried about something -their studies weren't good enough, their parents were fighting, someone's sister was sick but your dad was not worried. He would come pick me up and we would go out to dinner and dancing and friends would join us and we would laugh and just have fun. We kept spending time together. You should've seen those tongues wagging. Everyone's talking about us. We didn't pay that any mind -we just have a good time, and talk and laugh. I get to know him well and I see that he's a genuinely good person. Don't get me wrong, he has his faults, we all

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have our faults, but he means nobody harm and that's almost a miracle right there. To find people who mean you no harm. We didn't go to parties often. It's always cafés and theater plays and readings. A few art galleries or the opening-night of some joint. You see the same faces over and over again until you learn their names, you engage them in conversation That world vanished long ago, my child. The art of conversation is dead. ______________

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The truth is that precocious children transform into insufferable adults _______ His first words to me are: ‘Put that thing down.’

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But I’m frozen. ‘Leny,’ he says. ‘Put down the bomb.’ I look at him, he looks like someone erased his eyebrows off his face. ‘You think it looks like a bomb, too?’ ‘What else could it be? Put it down.’ ‘I can’t move, Tuto. Maybe it’s an alarm clock’ ‘The numbers in alarm clocks don’t go backwards.’ ‘What do the numbers say?’ ‘There’s a lot of them.’ ‘Are they close to zero?’ ‘Leny,’ he yells, ’put the fucking thing down!’ I keep my arms extended to full length and gently deposit the whirring and beeping machine back into the backseat - scattered shattered safety glass I climb halfway back into the frontseat ‘What’re you doing?’ he says

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I freeze again ‘We can’t see the numbers now!’ ‘You’re kidding me’ ‘We have to see the numbers’ I see he’s serious -his eyebrows haven’t yet returned so I lean over and put my hands back on the bomb I twist it gently in place until the numbers are showing ‘They’re upside down!’ ‘Can you read them?’ I ask ‘Yes.’ I look back and he’s twisting his head to see the numbers better. ‘That’s good enough.’ I say and climb back fully into the frontseat. I take his hand into mine. ‘What now?’ Seconds pass, eons pass. Pandora plays Lionel Richie. When I left my house today, I was only thinking of dancing. I wanted to have fun and laugh. I wanted to see my friends. How would I know I’d end up stuck in a car with a bomb? I look into your father’s eyes and he’s as terrified and paralyzed

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as I was in the backseat. I shake him a little bit. ‘Ángelo’ I tell him. ‘We gotta stop the car’ ________

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He picked me up in his beautiful blue car and I was ready. He wasn’t late or anything, Tato was never late. I was just excited to go and excited to see him and I was all dressed up, leaning back in the study, reading a book like a proper young lady The doorbell rings; your grandmother opens the door ‘Tato’s here!’ I come downstairs and she’s interrogating him already ‘Tell me about this party,’ she says. ‘Who’s going to be there?’ ‘Some people from school, some friends, some dancing,’ he says, ’nothing major.’ He turns to me. ‘You look amazing!’ ‘I blush.’ ‘Doesn’t she look amazing, Tia?’ Your grandmother laughs and hugs me, then hugs him and kisses us both. ‘Take good care of her,’ she says to Tato. ‘You’re not going to be drinking, are you?’

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‘Not while I’m driving.’ ‘How’s your brother?’ ‘He’ll meet us there,’ he says. ‘He’s bringing a date’ ‘A nice girl, I hope,’ says your grandmother and she waves us goodbye. ‘Have fun!’ ‘Knowing him,’ says Tato. ‘I doubt it.’ ___________

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I’m tired tonight. I’d like to just look at you. ________________ Everyone was at the party. Just one of those nights, people are restless at home when the time comes to dress-up and spritz the perfume water and we can’t say no. We say yes.

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His brother was there with some trashy girl, those used to be his type. Permanent makeup, unconventional piercings, you know the type -temporary tattoos. I dance with Tato all night. My hair hangs down my back drenched in sweat but I don’t care. At some point I kick off my shoes and dance in my bare feet on the back deck. I even get him to take off his shoes. As I head inside to get us some drinks I accidentally overhear a few girls gathered by the glass door. ‘Those two should just get a room, already,’ says one of them. ‘So gross the way she slobbers all over him like that.’ I keep walking of course, as if I could not hear a thing ‘Some bitches have no class,’ says the other My brain was boiling in rage but I just kept walking all the way to the kitchen with a singleminded purpose. I put ice in cups and seltzer water for your dad when the idea struck me to prepare myself a martini. I’m not sure exactly how it goes - vermouth, and gin and some olive juice I found in the fridge. I mix it all in a wide champagne glass and walk back carrying the drinks outside.

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The harpies are still there, gossipping away, fawning over your father. ‘I love his smile, don’t you love his smile?’ says one ‘It’s like he doesn’t have a care in the world,’ says another ‘Excuse me! Hi!’ I must’ve startled them. The acoustics in this room are quite remarkable ‘Hi, I’m sorry to interrupt,’ I say and I point to my hands busy with drink glasses. ‘Could I have some help with the door, please?’ ‘Of course, of course,’ a sudden chorus of solicitousness Two of them approach and hold the door open for me ‘Thank You,’ I say. I nod towards Tato. ‘Beautiful guy, isn’t he?’ They two harpies are thunderstruck -they look back at the other harpies and then break into uncontrollable giggles. ‘He’s alright,’ says one ‘I think he’s amazing,’ I say. ‘I’m gonna get smashed and then I’ll do whatever he tells me to do. I’ll let him do anything.’ The harpies stare dumbfounded ‘Have a nice day, girls. Wish me luck!’

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I slide the glass door in place with my foot before a single sound escapes their mouths I walk over and hand Tato his drink and not once do we look back or acknowledge the harpies again. _________________ Tu padre se pone a pitar como un desaforado, a prender y apagar

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las luces altas, pero la grúa ni disminuye la velocidad. Los primos ni se dan por enterados. ‘No se dan cuenta,’ me dice. ‘Nos están ignorando, Tuto’ Me parece que la grúa acelera. Sigue pitando el muy pendejo. ‘Deja esa vaina,’ le digo. ‘Hay que salir de aquí’ Trato de abrir la puerta, pero la carrocería de la grúa lo impide. ‘Desabróchate el cinturón,’ le digo a Tuto. ‘Como salimos?’ Le doy un vistazo a los numeros rojos que brillan desde la oscuridad y retroceden a un ritmo desconocido Nuestros ojos se encuentran y reconozco la única manera de hacerlo reaccionar Me inclino sobre tu padre y lo ayudo a desabrochar el cinturón. Tomo su cara en mis manos y beso sus labios con cuidado. ‘Eso que fue?’ me dice ‘Para que me sigas,’ digo

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‘Y donde vas?’ ‘Hay que salir por el sunroof.’ _____________

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Hay dos clases de yeguas en este mundo: las liberales y las conservadoras. Las dos muerden igual de duro y rebuznan cuando tienen que rebuznar Pero las yeguas liberales son más divertidas, tienen mejores ideas. En general viven con menos miedos en sus vidas. Las conservadoras tienden a ser mas bobas. Se enfocan más en apariencias porque no entienden mas allá de medidas y colores y órdenes. Pero lo más curioso de las yeguas conservadoras es que aprecian su ignorancia, se enorgullecen de ella como los pavoreales. Ellas creen que tener conocimientos y no tener conocimiento alguno son simplemente dos estados distintos pero equivalentes. In short, they don’t have a fucking clue. No les da el coco. Entonces frente al infinito caos del universo, a las conservadoras no les queda otra que refugiarse en la iglesia, en los maridos políticos y prepotentes, en un rol de beata y madre que es peor que cargar una burka de por vida. Adoran su ignorancia -la apodan. Se la echan encima como una manta de invisibilidad y salen al mundo envueltas en fragancias caras

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Nosotras forjamos un camino distinto. Reclamamos el derecho de adaptarnos a la situación que habitamos. Reclamamos la libertad de cambiar indefinidamente y a perpetuidad. Ves? Las conservadoras se inventan límites. Nosotras creamos horizontes. ______________

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Era hermosa, tu madre. Siempre encontrabamos tema de conversación. Nos escapábamos y dejábamos a tu padre solo atendiendo a los clientes. Nos recostamos en su carro a fumar y tomar el sol. A conversar. Cuando Ely murió yo dejé de respirar por seis o siete meses. El aire pasaba por mis pulmones pero no me inflaba. Operaba sin vida. Gracias a Dios los abuelos los cuidaron bien a ustedes, porque Tuto tampoco funcionaba. El Revulú todavia no se defendía en la cocina -estaba muy chiquito- y tú... tu necesitabas muchos cuidados y gracias a Dios los abuelos se encargaron de eso.

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Tuto se fue a la playa. A veces me mandaba mesajes:

‘Que lindo el mar hoy!’

‘Espectacular sunset!’

‘Es como nadar en una piscina’

Nunca me manda mensajes cuando el mar esta revuelto o cuando el rio inunda la orilla de basura No me habla de los animales que en tiempos de lluvia pasan flotando hinchados, ahogados, a perderse en el mar. Siempre:

‘Las olas perfectas para saltar hoy!’

‘Almuerzo donde Petita!’ Tato siempre me cuenta el mismo cuento de cuando eran niños

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y se despertaban temprano a comprar el pan y montaban las bicicletas por el pueblo desperezándose. Las michas bien calientitas y la señora que atiende les regala pan de dulce de ñapa y un duro para compartir. Y van con las bicicletas al mar las llevan hasta la orilla y se sientan a comerse el pan de dulce y desmigajar las michas y tirárselas a las gaviotas. Los abuelos mandaron a Tato a la playa a buscarlo, pero Tato encontró la casita vacía. Todo estaba en su lugar, todo limpio y en orden pero no había rastro de tu papá ni una explicación. Ninguno de los vecinos lo había visto en el pueblo. Tato regresó a la playa a buscarlo por meses -quizás años- le tienes que preguntar tu. Siempre encontró la casita limpia, sin polvo. Pero completamente vacía.

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_____________ We climb out the sunroof and slide down the windshield and land on the hood with a thud. The men in the towtruck haven’t noticed our escape -we speed into the night, the wind roaring against our ears. Tuto grabs my shoulder and points upward: four helicopters with searchlights escort the towtruck, two in front, two behind. The lights roam incessantly over the road ahead.

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I motion him to keep following me and I scramble my way down the grill of the car and onto the tow platform. He looks doubtful but makes his way to me; we’re now crouched against the back of the cabin. I look around us, but all the chains and levers look exactly the same. Your father grabs a short metal pole and stretches it across me. The tip reaches a red button I had not yet noticed. The button’s labeled ‘Boot Release.’ He mouths ‘help me’ and I grab the pole and together we aim it dead center down the button and we push with all our strength, you father’s polished shoes steadying his weight against a greased chain. We press down the button and a red light comes on. The crunch of machinery moving. The chains shift and flex and Tuto loses his balance and falls back into a nest of levers. One of his shoes flies off under the carriage. The tow platform slides back until Tuto’s car’s tires touch the road and then the chains tense up and the towtruck swerves like mad. Tires screeching, clouds of dust, rubber burning. I sort the machinery and reach Tuto and we press ourselves

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against the cabin just as four helicopter searchlights alight directly on our faces. ____________________

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Las yeguas somos una bendición. _______________

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Now they had to stop the towtruck and as soon as it slowed down enough Tuto and I jumped out and started running. At first two of the searchlights shone on us as if we were bugs, but they quit almost right away and returned to light up the truck. We’re running, your father half-barefoot, trying to reach the darkness and the trees at the edge of the road, somewhere to hide. From our hiding place we turned back to see the twin cousins and the guy from the gas station jump from the bed of the two truck and hit the ground running in all directions that lead away from the bomb. Your father pulls me away, and we run through the woods, scuttling over bushes and tripping on roots and as soon as we reach a hill that overlooks the road the sky splits in a crack of thunder and for a second the day turns to night and we turn

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around just in time to see the biggest orangest fireball I’ve yet to had to pleasure to again witness rising above the trees. We didn’t stop running all night. And your father never tried to kiss me again.

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____________ El siguiente y último mensaje que recibí de tu papá provino de una clínica en Rochester cuatro años después:

‘Hermosa la nieve hoy!’

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______________ Tuto termino peleandose con su date y la niña se fue de la fiesta

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con una manadita de otras niñas góticas. Entonces quedamos nosotros tres caminando por el jardín fumando cigarrillos importados que sus primos les mandan del extranjero. Hablando tonterías y echándonos chistes. Los hermanos se martirizan entre ellos. ‘Sabes que Tato se meo en la cama hasta los doce años,’ dice Tuto ‘Dos veces! Dos veces en un año. Y la segunda vez estaba borracho.’ ‘A los doce?’ pregunto ‘Ya ves porque ahora no tomo,’ dice Tato ‘Por favor no me hablen de orine,’ les digo y salto sobre una quebradita que fluye por la finca. ‘No me aburran con cosas asquerosas.’ ‘Sabes que Tuto repitió un grado en primaria,’ dice Tato ‘Estuve enfermo la mitad del año!’ ‘Y cuando repitió al año siguiente,’ sigue Tato, ‘solo pasó por copión - los amigos le pasaban los exámenes viejos’ ‘Es bueno ser popular,’ dice Tuto Verlos juntos es como presenciar un show de vaudeville -- se

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acomodan los insultos y le dan fuego a la jodedera haciéndose los ofendidos. ‘Y tu qué?’ me pregunta Tuto ‘Yo?’ ‘Tu qué aportas de tu vida -- algo que te de vergüenza’ A tu padre nunca le ha importado ser el hijueputa. ‘A mi nada me da vergüenza,’ miento. ‘Todo me da igual.’ ‘No tienes ninguna indiscreción en tu pasado?’ me azuza ‘No,’ sigo mientiendo. ‘Yo soy una chica buena y aburrida. Me gusta mucho leer.’ ‘Pues a mi me contaron una indiscreción tuya,’ me dice. ‘Tuto no seas pesado,’ dice tu papa ‘Un bochinche mio?’ pregunto. ‘Cuéntamelo!’ ‘Tuto, cállate la boca,’ dice Tato ‘No, déjalo,’ insisto. ‘Me muero por saber que dice la gente de mi.’

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‘Me ha llegado de fuentes de mi digna confianza,’ dice Tuto, ‘que no eres ni tan aburrida ni tan buena niña como pareces.’ El hermano lo empuja. ‘Estás borracho ya a esta hora?’ le grita. ‘Cuantas minas vas a explotar en una noche?’ Tuto empuja a tu papá al suelo y me toma por la cintura. Acerca sus labios a mi oido y susurra: ‘Mi hermano está enamorado de tí y todo el mundo lo sabe’ Y se manda a correr colina abajo, sorteando las piedras en la oscuridad Tato corre a perseguirlo y desaparecen los dos hermanos gritándose entre los árboles Yo me doy media vuelta y camino de vuelta a la fiesta.

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____________ Party food requires the most joy to prepare. Good bouncy music has to be playing. Everyone needs to be smiling and joking around. Lately some of the regulars have started to inquire about

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reserving the entire dining area some evening for a celebration, and although it took your father by surprise he quickly came up with an attractive package for a good price and soon we had a party in the joint almost every weekend. I was in charge of making the menus and I tried to distill the most popular dishes we made to their essence: rice and prawns and hot peppers and coconut milk. Plantains and cinammon and butter. Fresh fruit and pastries. Sometimes your father would order a special delivery from one of his highschool buddies and a truck would pull up and unload piles of flanksteaks that your father would marinate overnight. Eventually even Ely got into the act -- she would show up with plants and strings of tiny lights and hanging lanterns, and she’d spend hours arranging them just so. The only grinch in the scene was always your brother Revulú. He couldn’t care less about the rush of people dashing back and forth with arms full of boxes and bags and bottles and pots and pans. He sat under the biggest window in the kitchen and read his book, and rarely did he look up to catch sight of the action. He only got up to eat and fetch bottles of soda. It was at one of these parties that your mom and dad met for the first time.

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By then Gretel and I had grown closer and closer and I trusted her with just about all the important decisions in the kitchen. Tuto warns me that next weekend his meat-truck buddy will deliver three times the usual amount for a large party we’ve booked. He asks Gretel to round up a few assistants for the weekend. We spend the night before the party marinating the slabs of skirtsteak and drinking rosé winecoolers. Tuto was busy with last-minute negotiations with the beer suppliers. Gretel recruited two of her cousins -each lovelier than the other- plus a neighbor who had worked with us before and her little brother, a pipsqueak of a boy, to run errands. The girls peel potatoes and slice onions and we laugh and dance to the hi-fi. Your mother shows up with Tato -- she brings him along to take measurements for a ‘Happy Anniversary’ banner she’s determined to paint for the party. Your dad is in full bloom these days -- he’s just come back from The First and he’s radiant and confident, smiling. He’s dressed in jeans and a white tshirt and his hair is long and messy. Tato walks into the kitchen like a bomb blast; all the girly noise turns to dead silence. ‘Don’t mind me, ladies,’ he says and smiles at them. ‘I come in peace and love.’

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He hugs and kisses me. ‘You look great today,’ he says. ‘You smell like culantro.’ I introduce him around and when he gets to your mom: ‘So you’re the famous Gretel. I’ve heard so much about you, I feel like I already know you.’ ‘As I do you,’ she says, not missing a beat. ‘Leny really loves you,’ he says. ‘You must be really special. I can’t wait to fall in love with you, too’ She blushes and he moves and and sweet-talks Gretel’s cousins and the neighbor and pats the little brother on the head. That’s what your dad is, the sweetest roving tornado you’ve ever laid eyes on. Just as suddenly as he came in he was gone. He helps Ely with the measurements and she waves to me from the parking lot. I wave back and return to my cooking.

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++++++ Next day the guests started arriving early but most of the food was already done and waiting. They caught Tato by surprise and left him scrambling to finish the mural on the wall; it read:

‘Feliz Aniversario, Con Todo Nuestro Am’ The guests grab beers, walk up to his ladder and chat him up -- so how long you been an artist? do you also paint signs for storefronts? I have this beautiful little girl, she looks like an angel, you should do a portrait.

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Gretel shows up and shoos away the crowd ‘Déjenlo trabajar!’ she says. ‘Que llegan los señores y no está terminado.’ Tato paints out the remaining letters and climbs down and kisses Gretel on the cheek. ‘Thank You.’ Blushing, Gretel assembles the children and grandchildren of the honored couple. They take markers and sign their names under the mural. The guests of honor arrive and the crowd bursts into applause. The children hug their mother and she’s sobbing; they unveil the mural and now she’s laughing and sobbing. The mother kisses everyone within reach and when they point out Tato to her as the artist she practically picks him up in a fierce bear hug. He’s surprised but laughs and relaxes into her embrace. The crowd claps. The food vanishes. Six months later we’re throwing what seems like the same party for your grandparents. Their friends and the family are all here, and we spent the last two nights preparing the feast. Now Tato and Gretel display their affections more openly. You can peek at them holding hands when they think noone’s watching. Or they’ll kiss each other full on the mouth to say goodbye.

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Some nights, she tells me, they just lie in each others arms for hours and say nothing. When the time comes to unveil your grandparents’ mural the guests gather in a semicircle and he musicians of a live band your father hired snare out a long drumroll. Your Dad, Tato, gets up to speak ‘I’d like to dedicate this mural to the evergreen love and devotion that our parents, Matilde and Angelo Elías, have mysteriously kept alive for what is it now? Fiftysix? Fiftysix years, ladies and germs. Stop crying, mom! Wait until you see it at least!’ The crowd laughs. They clap to hurry him. ‘I love you, Mom and Dad. You do your best and your best simply works.’ He pulls off the sheet and the mural comes into view. The crowd gasps. A few of the aunts giggle uncomfortably. And then. ‘What the fuck is that?’ Your grandfather. ‘Are you mocking me, are you mocking your mother, child?’

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The mural shows two iconic images from our family history, the wedding picture and the family-at-beach-with-babies picture painted with amazing photoreality and yet... ‘What do you mean to say by painting this at our party,’ your grandfather’s now climbed onstage to both inspect the monstrosity and berrate his son more closely. ‘Have you no shame!’ In each of the pictures Tato had morphed one of your grandparents into the other -that is: in the wedding picture, your father was both groom and bride; in the beach picture your young grandmother wore both a bikini and swimming trunks and a moustache. The words ‘Time : The Greatest Equalizer’ stretched out in red script between the figures. ‘Some people consider it an honor to get your portraits painted,’ yells Tato. ‘It’s not mockery, it’s Art.’ ‘You’re no artist,’ spits out your grandfather. ‘Stop pretending.’ Your grandmother’s in tears and the musicians are hurriedly packing their instruments. Tato grabs your elderly grandfather by the lapels and pulls him up so that they are eye to eye. An equally geezerly uncle tries to climb the stairs to help but your father Tuto stops him. ‘This is a family matter,’ he says and the uncle skulks away. Tato eyes his father up close and then tells him calmly in a soft voice

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‘Im going to be a better father than you’ ‘I truly doubt that’ ‘Im going to be a better father than you ever were to us’ ‘You can try,’ says your grandfather, ’but you’ll fail, like you fail at everything else.’ ‘Gretel’s pregnant,’ says Tato. ‘I’m going to be a better father than you ever were.’ ‘The maid?’ Your grandfather laughs. ‘You’re in love with the maid now?’ All our eyes fall on Gretel, the girls from the kitchen suround her and embrace her. I’m immobilized with shock. ‘You’re a fucking cliché’ yells your grandfather. ‘Im going to have a happy family, for a change,’ says Tuto. ‘My kids are going to love me, not fear me. I’m going to be a better father to my child than you ever were to me.’ Your grandfather breaks away and stomps to the edge of the stage before turning around for one last dig. ‘You can take your paid maid whore and all your bastard offspring

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to hell for all we care. None of you will ever be welcome in our house. Or in our family.’ At this point, the smartest guests had already said their quick goodbyes and were pulling out of the parking lot. Tato lets out one more yell ‘Im going to be a better father than you!’ And then your grandfather trips on the steps leading down from the stage and his body jerks sideways and he lands head first in the grass. All the remaining aunts scream in unison. Bodies running, people yelling for a doctor, food plates smash on the floor and I still can’t move. Gretel helps, everyone helps, except me, I can’t move. People running, arms outstretched, an aunt faints, adding to the confusion. In the chaos I am an oasis of paralysis and I look across the blur and spy another beacon of stillness and it takes me a moment to recognize your father, Tuto, frozen with eyes wide open in horror, mouth a perfect ‘o.’ He turns his head ever so slowly until his stare meets your dad’s who’s already kneeling at their father’s limp body. Tuto’s features transform into a mask of pure hatred. I don’t know how else to explain this to you but it’s like seeing a demon take over his face and body. He trembles and his eyes bulge and water. But he’s still glued to that spot, his legs are as petrified as mine.

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The ambulance comes and they take your grandfather away. Tuto finally moves and rides in the back with the paramedics. Your grandmother follows in an aunts car. Eventually I too am able to move and join the cleanup. Gretel splits her time between stacking up chairs and tending to your dad, hugging him and kissing him tenderly as he slumps on top of a table crying. I lock everything up and hitch a ride a with my sister. She’s getting constant updates from your father on her iPhone. I see Tato and Gretel and they’re still embracing, your birthparents in love and in grief, lying on top of the tables in each other’s arms until the light changes and we drive away and I never get to see them together again.

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____________ Casi todos se han ido de la fiesta cuando regresan los hermanos -enlodados y sudados y riéndose ‘Estaba a punto de irme a casa,’ les digo ‘A si?’ responde Tato. ‘Con quién?’ ‘Con Tuto,’ digo y tomo a tu padre de la mano. ‘Ya la fiesta se acabo,’ le digo. ‘Nos vamos? ‘Tu cartera no está en mi carro?’ dice Tato. ‘Que me importa,’ respondo. ‘Quédatela. Te la regalo.’

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Bajamos los tres hasta la puerta principal y Tuto decide ir a buscar su auto y regresar a buscarme. Me deja sola con Tato. ‘Y que, ahora quieres a mi hermano más que a mi?’ me dice ‘Déjate de payasadas, por favor.’ ‘Que te dijo Tuto al oido alla arriba?’ ‘Nada importante.’ ‘Que te dijo’ ‘Que estás enamorado de mi’ ‘Y que dijistes tu?’ ‘Nada’ ‘Pero que pensastes’ ‘Que no es nada que yo no sabía ya’ ‘Lo escondo tan mal así?’ ‘O te conozco demasiado’ Me acerco a él y me rodea la cintura con su brazo. Me besa los labios y me parece que pasamos semanas en esa entrada besándonos. Tuto llega en su carro y me despido de tu papá. Regresamos a la

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ciudad de la fiesta por la interamericana más oscura del mundo. Y todo va bien hasta que tu padre me tira los perros en el carro. ______________ The Unsaid exists because Thought is Expression. And it can be Tuned Into because It Is Always Addressed To Someone.

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_______ Ya tu sabes el resto: tu mamá Gretel murió al tenerte y tu papá desapareció por tanto tiempo que tus abuelos se dejaron convencer por Ely y te dejaron que te criara con Tuto como su hija. Hasta que Ely muere y tu padre cae catatónico. Tato regresa y se encarga de ambos -bueno, lo intenta. Revulú da mucho trabajo.

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Pero todos le ayudamos. Hasta los abuelos. No hay nada como ponerse viejo, mi nena. Así es como Dios nos borra el orgullo. Ahora déjame descansar. Que hoy ha sido un ciclo muy largo. _____________

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ED. NOTE: Eleanor Rochas revolutionized the metallurgy scene with her human-sized functioning hearth sculptures, which became staples of new-colonial living in the Last Century. Fragments of Her Unsaid are reprinted here with the permission of living heirs.