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Veintinueve
-Name of the deceased.
-Del died, say.
"You said.
-Guido, Guido G.
-date of birth, place of origin. Four
-April 1876, Genoa.
-Reasons leading to death.
- Life?
"Death, of course.
-life, I suggest.
"Well, well, what suffering an illness?
"Not that we know.
"Yesterday a toothache, but it took the boy Lucius, here.
"Hey, I, well ...
"Quiet, please, respond only when asked.
"Yes, but I ...
"Where is the wheel of the deceased. "Not
.
- What's Not?
-La into the sea.
"Well, well, the doctor and will review.
- Is the sea?
"No, sir, the mouth of the deceased. Are all familiar?
"Just us, Captain.
- And the gentlemen?
"They are our neighbors on the road, we met here.
"Yeah, well, well
Write a sailor:
-ve-ci ... Ce or neighbors "with that?
"With that, I think.
-Vee-sss-si-no.
"Well, that's all, thank you my most sincere condolences, ladies.
- When will asearlo?
"Right now, if they wish.
- Can we watch over him? If only I had flowers.
"Yeah, sure, but what of the flowers is difficult ...
- And then? Where do you keep?
- Save it? No, ladies, I regret to inform you that the body will be thrown into the sea.
"Hey, Captain, you say, have some consideration for the ladies, how will you say to throw the body of Mr. Guido, a little touch ...
"Please, gentlemen, if you do not belong to the family, I beg you to stay away from fulfillment.
"What say the ladies.
"Okay, guys, okay.
- Is it what?
Sir Don Guido very reluctant to sea water, can not do this.
- Madonna Santa, Regina!
- What! What!
"Captain, can not throw it into the sea, Mr. Guido is ours as well, he would have liked to come to America, we would bury him there.
"Sorry, ladies, health and hygiene reasons we can not keep the body in the ship. I understand your situation, but that is what we call the laws and common sense. We can not risk the health of other passengers ...
"From the first, say.
-... The other passengers, who like you and I have the right to maintain your health.
"But, sir, please.
"Sorry, ladies.
"At least let us watch over him as God intended.
"Two days is a long time.
"Please.
-...
-...
-Le grant clock. The doctor will review the body. To be sure there are no signs of any contagious disease, this sector will remain under quarantine.
"But Captain, our cabin is across the deck.
"Sorry, you and the boy should stay here. Send a sailor with mattresses and bedding.
-can stay in our cabin.
"Thank you, thank you.
"As for you, sir ...
-R., Lucio R. R. Lord -...
, do you have permission to practice medicine?
- Me? uh, yeah, sure, sure ...
"Aha ... Well ... Well. Ladies, Miss, I'm sorry what happened.
Thanks.
"Yes, thanks.
"You're welcome.
Thirty
remembered and chipped gray walls, with traces of lime refusing to neglect; resembled a wasteland and gray, so gray and leafless branches, remembering a pale blue winter sky, but with a hot sun, too warm for any January. Resembled a fountain filled with almonds and an empty wine that smelled. He remembered the glasses, circular marks on the table the shapes of the feet on the ground floor: the traces. He remembered the candles and smoke free, and the first silence was when everyone was gone. He remembered that roamed the streets, as always, your friends, but quiet, pushing only when one rose the voice of what is appropriate, throwing small stones that bounced near and raised a warning fugitive dust. He remembered the braying of Serafin, uncomfortable with the thirst and flies. He remembered the taste of water, the thin cracks of dirty dishes, the amount of invisible lines of the webs of spiders that were reborn every week in the corners of the house, the smell of the barn, the sounds that distinguish the turning wheel of the floats the people, the words, the last words of his mother, but could not remember the pain. Francisco asked if she had cried that afternoon, he wondered if he had allowed a tear or had remained unchanged as there was in fact his father, lying in the shade in the afternoon, east of the house, overlooking the town, or Beyond the village, where the gray rocks and trees stretching to the end of the world. Not remember, nor remember when or why he decided that the moor was not the world that his father was not the law, and that life was nothing but an absurdity, a whim of something or someone other than God, because that day, angry with him, decided to there was no God, he denied it, but neither remembered this and offered the advantage of having its own mysteries unveiled the guide told him and taught him and he pointed beyond the gray villages and moorland existential.
Why worry, then, why this strange death hurt him, why he thought that if the pain was after all not remember ever having felt pain, just a heaviness, a sting in the center of the stomach, or a lacerated hands along the edge of a pipe, but that was not pain, but blood flowing. It was red, a foreign substance, an absurdity that nothing was changed by being there or not. Like Don Guido, death, there was a body, and surely was no pain, but the world would walk, and countries would know nothing of Don Guido died, even beyond the limits of the third of the people is Maria Fioravanti worry about the sudden absence of pain perhaps caused. Maybe it was pain, but why it hurt, and how he knew that it was pain. Francisco committed the fundamental error: the words gave more importance than they really were, the words were nothing more than a copy, a reflection of a substance or a feeling, perhaps of an action, but those words were neither the substance nor the sentiment or action, should have been stripped of his words, meanings and subjective wrong, forget that what we felt could be named as arbitrary as pain or sorrow or distress, or even satisfaction, or would be called in the language that was , had to abandon the signs and go with the feeling anonymous, stop worrying about the anonymity, and smoking calmly, without thinking about the concept of smoking, and probably would have felt that something for which no words and proper names.
"Uncle.
"What do you, Julian.
- Why are you crying?
- Me? Nothing, Julian nothing is the smoke of his pipe. Come, let's see how we accommodate this evening.
"Yes, come on.
"Yes, come on. Yes, come on. That's right dude, come on. Sure man, you're right, not to follow your directions if you are my uncle and you're older. If man, go. " Why, he asked Julian why he could not contradict, at least once in life and say no excuses, best was on the cover, who preferred not to know, who would like nothing better that not seeing how they would accommodate that night, he had never wanted to go to America, and America would never accept to be together with him. Why, Julian, why think of the old, back in Spain if the old man had left behind, or beside, or below, or elsewhere depending on where you looked, it was him, Julian Á. who moved, and not his father. It was he who advanced or retreated (obedient, always obedient), and not his father. Why not do what your heart is required, why not refocus itself and begin to interpret the clear messages that sent her heart. Why do not obey himself, if someone owed obedience, and not the other, the old man, his uncle, the ship that had imprisoned and where he wanted, but let him choose the path, or warning that his election would irreversibly lose life. Why do not prefer the north when the boat always southwest, why not jump into the ocean, or why not steal a boat and row to the north, always north, forward, because the north was on, carry where you take, because it was he who moved, not the boat, he provided it, but back now, slipped, dragged him, a force that took the shoulder and inability to move, and the rebel effort was how stripped of soul, leaving her helpless, at the discretion of the boats and all the forces that would dispute it, would pull it until it shreds, then abandon trample and destroyed, because a soul in parts not used for slave. Why could not tell you (first to admit) I did not want to go to the cabin to see how they would accommodate that night, damn the fucking time it was dead walrus, as if the walrus had something to do with their indecision. Damn the fucking time you came to Fioravanti, fucking each whores hours in which the events had happened without him decide. Damn whores unrequited life, damn the fucking smell of sweat, damn the cover of this fucking bitch emigrant ship, damn the fucking America, damn the first because they will always be first, and cursed by boluda last there in the background, hoping for the mere fact of being past, damn, damn all.
Chapters Thirty-one - Thirty-two
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