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第23部分

百年孤独(英文版)-第23部分

小说: 百年孤独(英文版) 字数: 每页4000字

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Catarino; who did not believe in magical tricks of strength; bet him twelve pesos that he could not move the counter。 Jos?Arcadio pulled it out of its place; lifted it over his head; and put it in the street。 It took eleven men to put it back。 In the heat of the party he exhibited his unusual masculinity on the bar; pletely covered with tattoos of words in several languages intertwined in blue and red。 To the women who were besieging him and coveting him he put the question as to who would pay the most。 The one who had the most money offered him twenty pesos。 Then he proposed raffling himself off among them at ten pesos a chance。 It was a fantastic price because the most soughtafter woman earned eight pesos a night; but they all accepted。 They wrote their names on fourteen pieces of paper which they put into a hat and each woman took one out。 When there were only two pieces left to draw; it was established to whom they belonged。
   “Five pesos more from each one;?Jos?Arcadio proposed; “and I’ll share myself with both。
   He made his living that way。 He had been around the world sixtyfive times; enlisted in a crew of sailors without a country。 The women who went to bed with him that night in Catarino’s store brought him naked into the dance salon so that people could see that there was not a square inch of his body that was not tattooed; front and back; and from his neck to his toes。 He did not succeed in being incorporated into the family。 He slept all day and spent the night in the redlight district; making bets on his strength。 On the rare occasions when ?rsula got him to sit down at the table; he gave signs of radiant good humor; especially when he told about his adventures in remote countries。 He had been shipwrecked and spent two weeks adrift in the Sea of Japan; feeding on the body of a rade who had succumbed to sunstroke and whose extremely salty flesh as it cooked in the sun had a sweet and granular taste。 Under a bright noonday sun in the Gulf of Bengal his ship had killed a sea dragon; in the stomach of which they found the helmet; the buckles; and the weapons of a Crusader。 In the Caribbean he had seen the ghost of the pirate ship of Victor Hugues; with its sails torn by the winds of death; the masts chewed by sea worms; and still looking for the course to Guadeloupe。 ?rsula would weep at the table as if she were reading the letters that had never arrived and in which Jos?Arcadio told about his deeds and misadventures。 “And there was so much of a home here for you; my son;?she would sob; “and so much food thrown to the hogs!?But underneath it an she could not conceive that the boy the gypsies took away was the same lout who would eat half a suckling pig for lunch and whose flatulence withered the flowers。 Something similar took place with the rest of the family。 Amaranta could not conceal the repugnance that she felt at the table because of his bestial belching。 Arcadio; who never knew the secret of their relationship; scarcely answered the questions that he asked with the obvious idea of gaining his affection。 Aureliano tried to relive the times when they slept in the same room; tried to revive the plicity of childhood; but Jos?Arcadio had fotten about it; because life at sea had saturated his memory with too many things to remember。 Only Rebeca succumbed to the first impact。 The day that she saw him pass by her bedroom she thought that Pietro Crespi was a sugary dandy next to that protomale whose volcanic breathing could be heard all over the house。 She tried to get near him under any pretext。 On a certain occasion Jos?Arcadio looked at her body with shameless attention and said to her “You’re a woman; little sister。?Rebeca lost control of herself。 She went back to eating earth and the whitewash on the walls with the avidity of previous days; and she sucked her finger with so much anxiety that she developed a callus on her thumb。 She vomited up a green liquid with dead leeches in it。 She spent nights awake shaking with fever; fighting against delirium; waiting until the house shook with the return of Jos?Arcadio at dawn。 One afternoon; when everyone was having a siesta; she could no longer resist and went to his bedroom。 She found him in his shorts; lying in the hammock that he had hung from the beams with a ship’s hawser。 She was so impressed by his enormous motley nakedness that she felt an impulse to retreat。 “Excuse me;?she said; “I didn’t know you were here。?But she lowered her voice so as not to wake anyone up。 “e here;?he said。 Rebeca obeyed。 She stopped beside the hammock in an icy sweat; feeling knots forming in her intestines; while Jos?Arcadio stroked her ankles with the tips of his fingers; then her calves; then her thighs; murmuring: “Oh; little sister; little sister。?She had to make a supernatural effort not to die when a startlingly regulated cyclonic power lifted her up by the waist and despoiled her of her intimacy with three clashes of its claws and quartered her like a little bird。 She managed to thank God for having been born before she lost herself in the inconceivable pleasure of that unbearable pain; splashing in the steaming marsh of the hammock which absorbed the explosion of blood like a blotter。
   Three days later they were married during the fiveo’clock mass。 Jos?Arcadio had gone to Pietro Crespi’s store the day before。 He found him giving a zither lesson and did not draw him aside to speak to him。 “I’m going to marry Rebeca;?he told him。 Pietro Crespi turned pale; gave the zither to one of his pupils; and dismissed the class。 When they were alone in the room that was crowded with musical instruments and mechanical toys; Pietro Crespi said:
   “She’s your sister。?
   “I don’t care;?Jos?Arcadio replied。
   Pietro Crespi mopped his brow with the handkerchief that was soaked in lavender。
   “It’s against nature;?he explained; “and besides; it’s against the law。?
   Jos?Arcadio grew impatient; not so much at the argument as over Pietro Crespi’s paleness。
   “Fuck nature two times over;?he said。 “And I’ve e to tell you not to bother going to ask Rebeca anything。?
   But his brutal deportment broke down when he saw Pietro Crespi’s eyes grow moist。
   “Now;?he said to him in a different tone; “if you really like the family; there’s Amaranta for you。?
   Father Nicanor revealed in his Sunday sermon that Jos?Arcadio and Rebeca were not brother and sister。 ?rsula never fave what she considered an inconceivable lack of respect and when they came back from church she forbade the newlyweds to set foot in the house again。 For her it was as if they were dead。 So they rented a house across from the cemetery and established themselves there with no other furniture but Jos?Arcadio’s hammock。 On their wedding night a scorpion that had got into her slipper bit Rebeca on the foot。 Her tongue went to sleep; but that did not stop them from spending a scandalous honeymoon。 The neighbors were startled by the cries that woke up the whole district as many as eight times in a single night and three times during siesta; and they prayed that such wild passion would not disturb the peace of the dead。
   Aureliano was the only one who was concerned about them。 He bought them some furniture and gave them some money until Jos?Arcadio recovered his sense of reality and began to work the noman’sland that bordered the courtyard of the house。 Amaranta; on the other hand; never did overe her rancor against Rebeca; even though life offered her a satisfaction of which she had not dreamed: at the initiative of ?rsula; who did not know how to repair the shame; Pietro Crespi continued having lunch at the house on Tuesdays; rising above his defeat with a serene dignity。 He still wore the black ribbon on his hat as a sign of respect for the family; and he took pleasure in showing his affection for ?rsula by bringing her exotic gifts: Portuguese sardines; Turkish rose marmalade; and on one occasion a lovely Manila shawl。 Amaranta looked after him with a loving diligence。 She anticipated his wants; pulled out the threads on the cuffs of his shirt; and embroidered a dozen handkerchiefs with his initials for his birthday。 On Tuesdays; after lunch; while she would embroider on the porch; he woul

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