Night Across the Street Page #5

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"and dark deaths."

That's the spirit!

We all have to die someday!

A slow death.

When you love me

When I see you smile

the bells will ring

and the butterflies will unfurl

their many-colored wings

When you love me

When you say yes...

You?

You startled me.

I was waiting for you.

Are you staying for dinner?

No,

I'm eating out today.

Can I come in?

But...

Thank you.

A four letter-word.

"Wait."

So this is your room?

I've imagined it so many times,

that I just couldn't wait any longer.

But...

Wait! That's Rhododendron,

he's a fish made out of wood,

but he's laughing.

And these are your famous ships.

They're beautiful.

I did so want you to show them to me.

They're all different...

I have to go.

And...

Can I stay here?

With the ships?

I promise I won't touch anything.

That's all I needed.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Kiss!

That's the word I was looking for.

Kiss, four letters!

Do you live alone here?

No, with my uncle.

Then,

he's the one who's going to die.

No, he's also dead.

When did he die?

Yesterday. He hanged himself.

He's still hanging there.

He was mad, so he hanged himself.

Do you have any family?

No.

Tomorrow I'm being sent

to a boarding school in Santiago.

I'll probably die there.

Who knows.

Sudden death.

Rhododendron.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen,

Don Celso is leaving us.

He's leaving us.

Well, he's never stopped leaving us,

despite which, he's been here.

Faithful as a bee.

Loyal as an ant.

Watchful as a hawk.

Although here in body

he gazes at the horizon,

and sees goodness knows what.

Sailing boats.

Sea gulls.

Clouds.

Don Celso is a hard worker.

He is unique in his ability to work

and relax simultaneously,

and I'm sure he will have a long life.

The many days of leisure

awaiting him will be productive.

I don't know whether you've noticed,

but the head of this department,

that's me, by the way,

the head of this department

has noticed how Don Celso's hands

busy themselves

with tasks for the future.

Long term tasks.

Our immobile voyager

is lifting anchor and setting sail.

We all wish him a happy journey.

And an even happier time when he arrives.

I know that many busy years

of doing nothing

await him.

I wish him the best of luck for this journey

from which he won't come back,

and I hope that this journey

will be an easy one.

Don Celso,

bon voyage!

Don Celso, so that your words aren't lost

or blown away on the wind,

I have a surprise for you.

Our star typist, Laurita Petrafie,

has offered

to type up your words,

the words of an active and modest man.

Ladies and gentlemen,

my life companions.

The stormy sea

and the lucky mermaids

with their unintelligible songs

are the witnesses

to the departure of he who addresses you.

His is a sad and discrete setting of sails.

The sails of the golden ship

which carries me.

The dark ship with the golden hull.

The gloomy sailors hurry

about their gloomy tasks.

The wind accompanies us.

You ask,

"What is the name of the ship?"

I'll tell you.

Rhododendron, The Brig.

- Rodo... What?

- Rhododendron!

The name of a flower,

of the brig,

and above all,

the name of a cowardly killer.

It's the name

of the fecund terminator,

of the monstrous friend

who seeks and will kill me.

Has he gone mad?

In the name of Rhododendron, thank you,

and I offer up

my ashes,

which come from the pure stock

of a sleepy family.

Long live Mallarm!

Viva!

Our firm has the tradition

of offering its colleagues

who are retiring to a well-deserved rest

after years of work,

a present, a token, a souvenir.

- Don Gural, if you please.

- Thank you, boss.

Excuse me, Don Celso.

Don Celso, our gift to you.

Water on my land

flows clean and serene

Water on my land

flows clean and serene

My girl looks at her eyes in the water

which flows clean and serene

Come in, come in.

Come in, come in.

Stop!

To the right.

Good.

Stop! To the left.

Very good...

Keep going, keep going.

Stop.

That's it.

Keep going.

Advise me, oh, dream of mine.

What should I do?

How can I summarize

in one glance the virginal absence,

dispersed in this solitude?

"The orphan roamed in the darkness,

"with his sight deprived of family."

Sight, not eyes.

"Vacant" does not mean "empty"

but rather "deprived of."

Don't you agree, Seor Uliseya?

I'm sorry?

Go on, Calixta Pereira, go head.

Who was Mallarm?

I mean, what was he like as a person?

What was he like?

He was a teacher.

He taught English in a school.

But above all,

he was what he said he was.

Both a nomad and immobile.

Above all

he was a sad

and spiritual man.

I imagine him

rather like this gentleman here.

Like my friend Don Celso.

Antofagasta.

That word is a treasure.

It's hard to believe.

I'm here because of the name.

Antofagasta.

As soon as I heard

that there was a city with that name,

I packed my bags

and said to my family,

"We're off to Antofagasta tomorrow."

My daughter went to the library,

she came back and said,

"I know everything about Antofagasta

"and there's nothing there."

So I said, "All the more reason to go there."

And the luggage?

It stayed there. In Manosque.

And

your family?

They're still there.

To tell you the truth,

I must be there myself.

Somebody has to write all

those books that they attribute to me.

I liked A King Without Distraction.

It's a terrible translation.

It should be

"The King

"who had nothing to entertain him."

Good evening, Don Celso.

Good evening to you, too,

cyclist Ugalde.

How can I amuse you?

How is your niece Alicia?

She passed her literature exams,

top marks.

How about your niece?

She drowned during the holidays.

I'm so sorry.

But tell me, Don Celso,

what do you think

of those new buildings?

What's your impression?

Any criticism?

What buildings are you talking about?

I can't see any.

What, you can't see them!

Now you can.

No, no.

One day those buildings might appear,

but for the time being they don't exist.

Then why can I see them?

For the same reason.

What about now?

No.

Whatever you say, Don Celso.

So there are no buildings in Antofagasta.

Be patient,

they'll come.

It's you!

Me?

Who are you looking for?

I'm looking for Nigilda, aren't I?

I don't think so.

If she were here, that would be

the last straw, wouldn't it?

Wouldn't it!

- What about Rolo?

- Rhododendron?

He hasn't arrived yet.

I'm waiting for him.

He has to kill me today.

So you're waiting for him.

Of course. As I do every evening.

Really?

- What do you intend to do?

- Do?

What one calls "doing"?

No. It's already done.

- More than done.

- What about me?

Just carry on waiting.

I'm off.

Everyone's gone out.

There's only me left.

That is, if I'm here.

See you later!

God willing!

He is!

Good evening.

Are you leaving?

Tell me

when the money runs out.

So, you're staying.

I thought you'd gone out.

I did, too.

But

here you are.

Here I am.

Oh, Mary

Stop singing

Oh, Mary

It's time to cry

Still in love.

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