百年孤独(英文版)-第19部分
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resist the temptation to mention it to Rebeca。 That was how Amaranta’s trip； always put off by ？rsula’s work； was arranged in less than a week。 Amaranta put up no resistance； but when she kissed Rebeca goodbye she whispered in her ear：
“Don’t get your hopes up。 Even if they send me to the ends of the earth I’ll find some way of stopping you from getting married； even if I have to kill you。？
With the absence of ？rsula； with the invisible presence of Melquíades； who continued his stealthy shuffling through the rooms； the house seemed enormous and empty。 Rebeca took charge of domestic order； while the Indian woman took care of the bakery。 At dusk； when Pietro Crespi would arrive； preceded by a cool breath of lavender and always bringing a toy as a gift； his fiancée would receive the visitor in the main parlor with doors and windows open to be safe from any suspicion。 It was an unnecessary precaution； for the Italian had shown himself to be so respectful that he did not even touch the hand of the woman who was going to be his wife within the year。 Those visits were filling the house with remarkable toys。 Mechanical ballerinas； music boxes； acrobatic monkeys； trotting horses； clowns who played the tambourine： the rich and startling mechanical fauna that Pietro Crespi brought dissipated Jos？Arcadio Buendía’s affliction over the death of Melquíades and carried him back to his old days as an alchemist。 He lived at that time in a paradise of disemboweled animals； of mechanisms that had been taken apart in an attempt to perfect them with a system of perpetual motion based upon the principles of the pendulum。 Aureliano； for his part； had neglected the workshop in order to teach little Remedios to read and write。 At first the child preferred her dolls to the man who would e every afternoon and who was responsible for her being separated from her toys in order to be bathed and dressed and seated in the parlor to receive the visitor。 But Aureliano’s patience and devotion finally won her over； up to the point where she would spend many hours with him studying the meaning of the letters and sketching in a notebook with colored pencils little houses with cows in the corral and round suns with yellow rays that hid behind the hills。
Only Rebeca was unhappy； because of Amaranta’s threat。 She knew her sister’s character； the haughtiness of her spirit； and she was frightened by the virulence of her anger。 She would spend whole hours sucking her finger in the bathroom； holding herself back with an exhausting iron will so as not to eat earth。 In search of some relief for her uncertainty； she called Pilar Ternera to read her future。 After a string of conventional vagaries； Pilar Ternera predicted：
“You will not be happy as long as your parents remain unburied。？
Rebeca shuddered。 As in the memory of a dream she saw herself entering the house as a very small girl； with the trunk and the little rocker； and a bag whose contents she had never known。 She remembered a bald gentleman dressed in linen and with his collar closed by a gold button； who had nothing to do with the king of hearts。 She remembered a very young and beautiful woman with warm and perfumed hands； who had nothing in mon with the jack of diamonds and his rheumatic hands； and who used to put flowers in her hair and take her out walking in the afternoon through a town with green streets。
“I don’t understand；？she said。
Pilar Ternera seemed disconcerted：
“I don’t either； but that’s what the cards say。？
Rebeca was so preoccupied with the enigma that she told it to Jos？Arcadio Buendía； and he scolded her for believing in the predictions of the cards； but he undertook the silent task of searching closets and trunks； moving furniture and turning over beds and floorboards looking for the bag of bones。 He remembered that he had not seen it since the time of the rebuilding。 He secretly summoned the masons and one of them revealed that he had walled up the bag in some bedroom because it bothered him in his work。 After several days of listening； with their ears against the walls； they perceived the deep cloccloc。 They penetrated the wall and there were the bones in the intact bag。 They buried it the same day in a grave without a stone next to that of Melquíades； and Jos？Arcadio Buendía returned home free of a burden that for a moment had weighed on his conscience as much as the memory of Prudencio Aguilar。 When he went through the kitchen he kissed Rebeca on the forehead。
“Get those bad thoughts out of your head；？he told her。 “You’re going to be happy。？
The friendship with Rebeca opened up to Pilar Ternera the doors of the house； closed by ？rsula since the birth of Arcadio。 She would arrive at any hour of the day； like a flock of goats； and would unleash her feverish energy in the hardest tasks。 Sometimes she would go into the workshop and help Arcadio sensitize the daguerreotype plates with an efficiency and a tenderness that ended up by confusing him。 That woman bothered him。 The tan of her skin； her smell of smoke； the disorder of her laughter in the darkroom distracted his attention and made him bump into things。
On a certain occasion Aureliano was there working on his silver； and Pilar Ternera leaned over the table to admire his laborious patience。 Suddenly it happened。 Aureliano made sure that Arcadio was in the darkroom before raising his eyes and meeting those of Pilar Ternera； whose thought was perfectly visible； as if exposed to the light of noon。
“Well；？Aureliano said。 “Tell me what it is。？
Pilar Ternera bit her lips with a sad smile。
“That you’d be good in a war；？she said。 “Where you put your eye； you put your bullet。？
Aureliano relaxed with the proof of the omen。 He went back to concentrate on his work as if nothing had happened； and his voice took on a restful strength。
“I will recognize him；？he said。 “He’ll bear my name。？
Jos？Arcadio Buendía finally got what he was looking for： he connected the mechanism of the clock to a mechanical ballerina； and the toy danced uninterruptedly to the rhythm of her own music for three days。 That discovery excited him much more than any of his other harebrained undertakings。 He stopped eating。 He stopped sleeping。 Only the vigilance and care of Rebeca kept him from being dragged off by his imagination into a state of perpetual delirium from which he would not recover。 He would spend the nights walking around the room thinking aloud； searching for a way to apply the principles of the pendulum to oxcarts； to harrows； to everything that was useful when put into motion。 The fever of insomnia fatigued him so much that one dawn he could not recognize the old man with white hair and uncertain gestures who came into his bedroom。 It was Prudencio Aguilar。 When he finally identified him； startled that the dead also aged； Jos？Arcadio Buendía felt himself shaken by nostalgia。 “Prudencio；？he exclaimed。 “You’ve e from a long way off！？After many years of death the yearning for the living was so intense； the need for pany so pressing； so terrifying the neatness of that other death which exists within death； that Prudencio Aguilar had ended up loving his worst enemy。 He had spent a great deal of time looking for him。 He asked the dead from Riohacha about him； the dead who came from the Upar Valley； those who came from the swamp； and no one could tell him because Macondo was a town that was unknown to the dead until Melquíades arrived and marked it with a small black dot on the motley maps of death。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía conversed with Prudencio Aguilar until dawn。 A few hours later； worn out by the vigil； he went into Aureliano’s workshop and asked him： “What day is today？？Aureliano told him that it was Tuesday。 “I was thinking the same thing；？Jos？Arcadio Buendía said； “but suddenly I realized that it’s still Monday； like yesterday。 Look at the sky； look at the walls； look at the begonias。 Today is Monday too。？Used to his manias； Aureliano paid no attention to him。 On the next day； Wednesday； Jos？Arcadio Buendía went back to the workshop。 “This is a disaster；？he said。 “Look at the air； listen to the buzzing of the sun； the same as yesterday and the day before。 Tod
