By Clarice Lispector.
Mrs. George B. Xavier just could not say how he had entered. Through the front door was not. The dreamer seemed vaguely had entered a kind of close opening in the rubble of the building, as if sideways into a hole made just for her. The fact is that when he realized, was already inside.
And when he realized, he said he was very, very deep. Endlessly walking the basement of the Maracana, or at least had seemed narrow caverns that gave enclosed rooms and halls were opened when there was only one window facing the stage. This, at that hour torridly desert sun reverberated to the extreme heat that day unusual in midwinter.
Then Mrs. followed by a dark corridor. This also led to a more bleak. He thought the roof of the underground was low.
And lo, this corridor led to another which led in turn to another.
folded the deserted corridor. And then fell into another corner. That led to another hallway that led to another corner.
then automatically entering runners went simply gave other riders. Where would the inaugural meeting room? Then next to that would find people who had arranged the appointment. The conference may have already begun. Going to lose, just it being tried not to lose anything because cultural and youth remained inside as outside No one guessed that he was almost seventy years, all gave some fifty-seven.
But now, lost in the meanders Maracana internal and dark and heavy shuffling old.
was then found in a corridor suddenly a man appeared from nowhere and asked for the conference that the man said to ignore. But the man asked for information to a second man who also came suddenly to turn the corridor.
Then the second man reported that he had seen about the seats on the right, in the open stadium, "two ladies and gentleman, one of red." Mrs. Xavier doubt that these people were the group that she must meet before the conference and, indeed, had already forgotten the reason for walking without ever stopping. Anyway followed the man toward the stadium, where he stopped obscured in the hollow space of silence and open clear light, the bare stage disemboweled, without the ball or football. Moreover, no people. There was a crowd that was emptied by the absolute absence.
"The two ladies and gentleman had gone for a broker?
Then the man said with an exaggerated challenge:
"Well I'll look for you and find these people in any way, can not have vanished into thin air.
And indeed, both they had seen from afar. But a second then disappeared again. He looked like a child's game where laughter muffled laughter of Mrs. George B. Xavier.
man then entered with two runners. Until man also disappeared in a corner.
Mrs. had abandoned the conference that it mattered little background. What I wanted was out of the tangle of roads without end. Would not exit? Then he felt as if inside a broken elevator between a floor and another. Would not exit?
was then that he remembered the words of the friendly information, by telephone: "It is more or less near the Maracana stadium. " Faced with this memory realized his error and distracted foolish person hears things that only half, and the other is submerged. Mrs. Xavier is very distracted. So, therefore, was not the match at Maracana, was nearby. However, their fate had willed that little was lost in the maze.
Yes, the fight resumed worse: she wanted out of there by force and did not know how or where.
And again appeared in the corridor the man who was looking for people again and again assured him that would find they could not have vanished into thin air. He said
- People can not disappear into thin air! The lady informed
:
"There need to bother looking, you know? Thank you very much anyway. Because the place where I find that people are not at the Maracana.
The man immediately stopped walking and looked at her, perplexed
"So what are you doing here?
She wanted to explain that his life was also, but did not even know what he meant by "himself" or to "life", so nothing responded. The man insisted on the question between suspicious and wary: what was he doing there? Nothing, replied only with the thought of women, and about to fall from exhaustion. But no answer, left him believing he was crazy, and maybe it was, "because something did not feel that she called" that "out of shame? Although the call was also very good mental health could only compare it to your physical health, as he dragged his feet for many years in the labyrinth. Her ordeal. She was dressed very thick wool and sweated in the stifling heat of an unexpected rise of summer, that summer day was a deformity of winter. His legs ached, ached with the weight of the old cross. I was already resigned to a way to never leave the Maracana and die there with the bloodless heart.
Then, as always, after giving up the things desired, they occurred. What suddenly occurred to him was an idea: "I'm an old fool." Why go instead of asking people who were not there, not looking for men and asked them how to get out of the corridors? Because I wanted was to just go out and do not meet anybody.
finally found the man, turning a corner. And he spoke with the voice a little shaky and hoarse from exhaustion and fear of hope was vain. The man, suspicious, quickly agreed that she go home and said, gently: "It seems
you are not quite right in the head, this heat may be rare.
said, man he just went with it in the first row and in the corner there were two gates wide open. That's it? Just like that?
So easy.
Then the lady thought that she only had become impossible to find the exit. Ms. Xavier was a little scared at the same time, used. In a sense, each had their own way to travel endlessly, making this part of the destiny, which she did not know whether he believed or not.
spent a taxi. Commanded to stop and said, controlling the voice that was growing old and tired:
"Young man, dont know the address, I forgot. But I know that the house is on a street (just remember that Guzman is called) and making a street corner if I remember correctly is called Colonel did not know what.
The driver was patient as a girl: "Then
not be nervous, we will find a street that has a half Guzman and Colonel at the end he said, turning back with a smile and a wink of complicity it seemed indecent. They left with an emptiness that he shocked the bowels.
Then, suddenly, people recognized seeking and were in the street, next to a big house. It was as if the aim was to reach and do not listen to the conference at that time was completely forgotten, as Mrs. Xavier had forgotten his aim. And I never knew why he had walked so much. I was tired beyond his strength and wanted to leave, the conference was a nightmare. Then a lady asked important and vaguely known to have a car with driver to take her home because she was not well with this heat so weird. The driver would arrive within an hour. Then he sat in a chair that was in the corridor, sat up straight with your belt tight, away from the culture unfolded in front, in the locked room. Which could not get any sound. It mattered little culture. There was, in the labyrinths of sixty seconds and sixty minutes that would lead to an hour. Then Mrs. important
came and said the car was at the door, but informing him that, as the driver had warned it would take much, given that the woman did not feel well, the first taxi stopped he saw. Why she had not had the idea of \u200b\u200bcalling a taxi, instead of being willing to submit to the meanders of the waiting time? Then, Mrs. George B. Xavier thanked him with extreme kindness. She was always very gentle and polite. And in the taxi, said
-A Leblon, if it makes me favor.
brain was empty, he felt that his head was fasting.
Soon noted that walked and walked but again ended up giving the same plaza. Why not got out of there? "Again there was no way out? The driver finally confessed that he knew the South, which only worked in the North. And she did not know how to teach the road. Every time you cross weighed over the years and the new lack of output only renewed the black magic of the runners at the Maracana. There was no way to get rid of this place! Then the driver told him to take another taxi, and even came to make a signal to one that passed him. She thanked him politely, was ceremoniously with people, even with acquaintances. He was also very nice. The new taxi, said shyly, "If
does not bother you, let Leblon.
And they just came at once entered the square and new streets.
was the key to open the apartment door when he had the desire, desire, mind and imagination, sobbing aloud. But it was not sobbing or person protest. Pass the employee advised that he would not answer the phone. He went straight to his room, took off all his clothes, swallowed a pill without water and hope that it would work.
Meanwhile, smoking. It was agreed that it was August and said that August was bad luck. But would one day in September as a gateway. And for some reason September is the month of May: a month milder and more transparent. Thinking briefly about that, drowsiness and sleep finally came.
When he woke, hours later, he saw a light rain falling and icy cold was that cut like a knife. Naked in bed froze. It seemed very odd idea of \u200b\u200ban old naked. He remembered that he had planned to purchase a wool scarf. Looked at the clock could still find open trade. He took a taxi and said
-A Ipanema, if you please.
The man said
- How? "Botanic Garden?
-A Ipanema, please, "she repeated, quite surprised. Disagreement was total nonsense, what was in common between the words Ipanema and Botanical Garden? But again he thought vaguely that "his life was yes, that way."
quickly made the purchase on the street was dark with nothing to do, for Mr. George B. Xavier had traveled to Sao Paulo the day before and only return the next day.
then again at home, between taking a new pill to sleep or make otherwise, opted for the latter hypothesis, it was agreed that now may again seek a bill of exchange loss. What little we understand was that this paper represents money. For two days the carefully looking around the house, and even the kitchen, but in vain. Now it occurred to her and why not under the bed? Maybe. She then knelt on the floor. But then he got tired of being alone on their knees and hands also supported.
Then he realized he was on all fours.
stayed a while and, perhaps meditating, maybe not. Who knows, it is possible that Mrs. Xavier was tired of being a human body. It was a four-legged dog. No nobility. Lost the last pride. On four legs, a little pensive, perhaps. But under the bed was only dust.
He rose with some effort, with contorted joints and saw that he had no choice but to consider realistic, and it was a painful effort to see reality, "realistically consider that the letter was lost and that further searching would never leave the Maracana .
And as always, when he had stopped looking, when you open a drawer to get a handkerchief, he found a bill of exchange.
Then, exhausted by the effort of having been on all fours, sat on the bed and started without more or slightly more to mourn. He looked more like a litany crying Arabic. Thirty years ago you did not cry, but now he was very tired. If that was crying. It was not. It was something else. Finally he blew his nose. Then he thought: that it would force the "destiny" and would have a greater destiny. With the strength of the will get everything, thought without the slightest conviction. And that should be subject to a destination was because he had already begun to think about not wanting to "that."
But then came the woman also thought that: it was too late to have a destination. He thought it could make any rate swap with another being. Then he realized that there was nobody exchange, that whoever he was, it was her and could not become another one. Each was unique. Mrs. George B. Xavier was also.
But all that happened was still preferable to feel "that." And "that" came with its long corridors end. "That", now without any shame, it was painful hunger of his heart, the need to be owned by the unattainable idol television. No one program was lost theirs. Then, as I could not help but think of it, the thing was delivered and remember the baby-faced Robert Carlos, my love.
was to wash their hands dirty with dust and looked in the bathroom mirror. Then, Mrs. Xavier thought, "If I want a long, long, he shall be mine for at least one night." Vaguely believed in the strength of will. Are again entangled in desire suffered and strangled.
But who knows? If desist from Roberto Carlos, then things happen between him and her. Mrs. Xavier thought a bit about it. So cunningly pretended that it was withdrawing Roberto Carlos. But knew that the abandonment was just magical result if it was real, not just a trick to get something. Reality demanded a lot from it. Was examined in the mirror to see if the bestial face became influenced by their feelings. But it was still a face that had long since ceased to represent what he felt. In addition, her face had never expressed more than a good education. And now it was only the mask of a woman in her seventies. Then his face seemed slightly makeup of a clown. Did not improve.
Outside-saw in the mirror, it was something as dry as a dried fig. But inside was not dry. Quite the contrary. It seemed, in a wet gum, soft as a toothless gums.
Then a thought that sought to spiritualize or that once dry. I had never been spiritual. And because Roberto Carlos it was engulfed in the darkness of matter, which was profoundly limited.
Standing in the bathroom was as anonymous as a chicken.
In a split second almost unconscious fugitive envisioned that all people are anonymous. Because no one is the other and one does not know the other. So then everyone is anonymous. And now he was embroiled in deep and deadly that well in the revolution of the body. Body whose background is not seen and it was the blackness of darkness evil of their instincts alive as lizards and mice. And all out of time, the fruit out of season. Why not old ones had warned that after all this could happen? In the old men who had seen it looks lewd. But in the old no. Out of season. And she lived as if he was anyone, she was a nobody. Mrs. George B.
Xavier was a nobody.
then wanted to have beautiful and romantic feelings with regard to the delicacy of the face of Roberto Carlos. But do not get it: this delicacy just took her to a dark corridor of sensuality. And it was the wanton destruction. It was a low hunger: he wanted to eat the mouth of Roberto Carlos. It was not romantic but rough on love. There in the bathroom, facing the bathroom mirror.
indelibly with his age stained.
If only I had a sublime thought that would serve as a motto and honor their existence.
then began to undo the knot of hair and slowly paint. I needed a new dye, and the roots were white. So the lady thought that: "In my life there was never a climax as in the stories read." The climax was Roberto Carlos. Pensive, secretly concluded she would die as he lived secretly. But I also knew that every death is a secret.
From the bottom of his future death expect to see in the mirror the coveted figure of Roberto Carlos, with those soft curly hair he had. There was, Persian desire out of season, like a summer day in winter. Persian maze of corridors at the Maracana. Persian deadly secret of old. Only she was not accustomed to be seventy years, was missing practice, I had no experience.
Then he says, loud and without witnesses
-Robertito Carlitos.
He added: "My love." He heard her voice strangely, as if making for the first time without any shame or guilt, a confession that should not be shameful. Mrs. Robertito thought he could not accept his love because he was aware, her love was ridiculous and sentimental, annoyingly voluptuous and sweet. And Roberto Carlos looked so chaste, so sexless. His lips lightly painted
would they still kissable? Or perhaps it was disgusting to kiss the mouth of an old woman? He examined it closely blankly his own lips. And still blankly softly sang the chorus of the song's most famous Roberto Carlos: "I want you I warm this winter and everything else goes to hell."
was when Mrs. George B. Xavier suddenly bent over the sink as if to throw the viscera and disrupted her life with a shattered silence: it is! That! Ever! One! Door! Of saliiiiiiiiiida!
