Noviembre Page #6

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our death sentence.

We lost what held us together:

our freedom and the desire

to be unique.

Without the one thing

that made us different,

we had no purpose.

Daniel was right.

We sold out.

Eduardo was only trying

to exploit the " Shooting" scandal.

It wasn't bad timing, or fatigue,

nothing like that.

It was simply

his extremism and radicalism.

His cause had been lost

to the rest of us.

Besides, at that point

it was completely unviable.

We sold out.

Not only by accepting money

for the first time as a group,

but also...

Well, it was very painful.

All the things we had to change.

Here's an example.

Whenever we used to do " Messiah",

we did it naked. Until that

goody-goody Eduardo came along.

That jerk made us wear

brassieres and loincloths.

Imagine that! In 1999!

After Daniel and I left the group,

there was no contact between us.

Just Pedro, who came to visit once.

He said Alfredo was playing

in pubs in Malasana.

But we didn't see him

until Alejandro fell ill.

It was because of his brother.

Everything Alfredo did

was directly related to his brother.

He had this recurring nightmare:

he dreamt that he had murdered him.

Alfredo at times confused

fiction and reality.

Alfredo!

Alfredo!

What is it?

I was at the Ministry.

And?

We didn't get the grant.

Open up.

-Hi.

-Hi.

When did you get home?

A little while ago.

I love watching her sleep.

Me, too.

I had to take off my shirt

and wash my hands.

Why?

Because it's sickening.

I can't touch her

after being in that damn bar.

I can't go on like this.

I'm rotting away.

I can't take it any more.

Then don't.

I don't want anything

to do with this.

Not even theater.

It's bullshit.

Alfredo?

What?

What is it?

Alejandro is ill.

He always destroyed

the ones we gave him.

I tried to stop him, but...

It's all right, mother.

I've missed you.

Would you like something to eat,

or would you rather rest a bit?

No, I'm fine.

I'm going to lie down.

I'll leave you, then.

-I'll help your father.

-See you later, mother.

See you later, my son.

Why did you do it?

Are you sure?

I've lost all interest in acting.

That could change.

I don't know the business,

but maybe you'll have better luck

in a few years.

I doubt it.

Think it through.

You've always liked it.

There are worse things out there.

Yeah? That's not what you said

when I moved to Madrid.

Sure.

But I got over that.

Your brother helped me, I think.

Those marionettes of yours

were the only thing he ever liked.

Unbelievable.

What?

Nothing.

-What is it?

-No, nothing.

I never knew they mattered.

Nobody knows what happened in Lorca,

but something had pushed Alfredo

to call us with the theater idea.

I've heard all kinds of stuff,

but no one really knows.

Alejandro.

Hi. See who came to see you?

He was so excited.

He was inspired again.

The Royal Theater idea

sounded like madness to me,

but later I realized

it was like going back to our roots.

Hi, is Daniel there?

Dani, it's me, Alfredo.

Alfredo Baeza.

It wasn't so far-fetched.

The ruling prohibited us

from acting in the street.

It didn't mention a theater.

I didn't care much

about the Manifesto.

I said no because it was too risky.

It just didn't seem necessary to me

at the time.

" Shooting" was enough for me.

I said no because

I wanted to stay out of trouble.

"So you defend an idea on paper,

but you can't defend it

and make it a reality.

Is that it?"...

The way he said it,

he had such a way with words...

He convinced me.

I couldn't refuse.

" ROY AL THEATER"

SEPTEMBER 2001

-All set.

-I'm off.

Straight to the stalls.

Stop for nothing. See you later.

Okay, bye.

Dani? Dani!

Juan, is that you?

-Yeah, it's me.

-I'm in here.

What took you so long?

-I didn't see Pedro.

-Sh*t.

We're late.

Here, you need a quick touch-up.

-Wait, Dani. We've got to stop this.

-What?

-We have to warn Alfredo somehow.

-Why?

Quiet.

What is it?

What is it?

-Guess who just entered the theater.

-Who?

-The President.

-Alfredo...

Wait, hold on a sec.

-Are you kidding?

-I just saw him go in.

-The President?

-We have to warn Alfredo.

Wait. What for?

What for?

To tell him what's happening!

-That'll just make him nervous.

-Good!

No, he shouldn't know.

Are you nuts? You know what a scene

he could cause?

Damn right!

The bigger the better.

You're high.

I'll warn him.

-Wait.

-Let go.

-You're not warning anybody.

-Let go, Dani.

Juan.

Come on, let's think this through.

Okay, kids. Break a leg!

Let's get to it.

Let the real show begin.

Hello!

Excuse me,

could you cut the music

for a second?

If you don't mind.

Silence!

Thank you so much.

Come in, Alberto.

What is it?

Forgive this minor interruption,

of this production,

subsidised by the illustrious

Ministry of Culture. But...

I've got a little anecdote,

if you don't mind.

We happened...

to decide the other day

to take over this stage in order

to let our voices be heard.

Therefore, one...

two...

three...

and four.

We did it because we're fed up.

Yes.

We're tired.

We're drained.

We're desperate!

I'll check the actors.

Because lately theater,

and art in general...

really...

stinks!

Lower the curtain.

That's right.

The stench of business,

of boardrooms,

civil servants, commerce,

advertising, routine, comfort...

Ieisure, boredom, bureaucracy,

and deceit.

Everything except art!

Art!

Art is no more.

Only the art business...

or the art market...

or the business of art subsidies.

Just another bank account,

the art of adding numbers.

But we're not part...

What's he doing?

Still up on that swing.

Incredible.

We're... freeeeee!

We can try the other catwalk,

but it's far.

Any other way?

Excuse me,

you can't go in there.

Yes!

We believe that art

can change people's hearts...

Give them strength...

Don't touch me.

I'll go quietly.

Art can make people feel alive.

Art...

can reach the spirit of every man,

and every woman.

Art can bring social consciousness,

make us better people.

Art can be universal...

Iimitless...

free of religion,

free of race.

Art can be a weapon.

But not a prop.

A real gun.

-The shot must be heard...

-Sh*t!

The target must be hit.

Alfredo?

Alfredo...

Alfredo!

Alfredo!

If I could be twenty-something

again,

I'd do it all over again.

But knowing what I know now.

So we could make it work.

I don't know.

Whenever I think about it,

it seems...

absurd.

Time has passed...

It's still painful and absurd.

A waste.

A huge waste.

I'll never forget seeing Alfredo

dangling from the trapeze.

Never.

We couldn't believe it.

Even now I can hardly believe

Alfredo died.

It was like a bad dream.

A nightmare.

You can't imagine how much

something like this

can change a person's life.

The experience changed me forever.

I assure you,

not a single day goes by

that I don't think

about that moment.

We wanted to change the world.

We failed miserably.

Now I just try

to not let the world change me.

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