Lucas Guevara

Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage

Board of Editorial Advisors
Ramn Luis Acevedo Universidad de Puerto Rico Jos F. Aranda, Jr. Rice University Alejandra Balestra University of New Mexico Antonia Castaeda St. Marys University Rodolfo J. Cortina University of Houston Kenya C. Dworkin y Mndez Carnegie Mellon University Jos B. Fernndez University of Central Florida Juan Flores Hunter College of CUNY Erlinda Gonzales-Berry Oregon State University Laura Gutirrez-Witt University of Texas at Austin Luis Leal University of California at Santa Barbara Clara Lomas The Colorado College Francisco A. Lomel University of California at Santa Barbara Agnes Lugo-Ortiz Dartmouth College A. Gabriel Melndez University of New Mexico Genaro Padilla University of California at Berkeley Raymund Paredes University of California at Los Angeles Nlida Prez Hunter College of CUNY Gerald Poyo St. Marys University Antonio Saborit Instituto Nacional de Antropologa e Historia Rosaura Snchez University of California at San Diego Virginia Snchez Korrol Brooklyn College of CUNY Charles Tatum University of Arizona Silvio Torres-Saillant CUNY Dominican Studies Institute Roberto Trujillo Stanford University

Lucas Guevara
Alirio Daz Guerra Introduction by Nicols Kanellos and Imara Liz Hernndez Translated into English by Ethriam Cash Brammer

Arte Pblico Press Houston, Texas

This volume is made possible through grants from the Rockefeller Foundation, the City of Houston through The Cultural Arts Council of Houston, Harris County and the Texas Commission on the Arts.

Recovering the past, creating the future Arte Pblico Press University of Houston 452 Cullen Performance Hall Houston, Texas 77204-2004

Cover design by Adelaida Mendoza

Daz Guerra, Alirio, b. 1862. [Lucas Guevara. English] Lucas Guevara / Alirio Diaz Guerra ; introduction by Nicolas Kanellos and Imara Liz Hernndez ; translated into English by Ethriam Cash Brammer. p. cm. ISBN 1-55885-390-1 (pbk. : alk. paper) I. Brammer, Ethriam Cash. II. Title. PQ8179.D57L8313 2003 863'.5dc21 2003044431 CIP

The paper used in this publication meets the requirements of the American National Standard for Information SciencesPermanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984.

2003 by Arte Pblico Press Printed in the United States of America

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To my friend CARLOS A. MENDOZA, a soul engulfed in the refined traditions of ancient chivalry. New York, 1914

Translators Acknowledgements
This translation could not have been possible without the generous support provided by the Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage fellowship program and the many people at Arte Pblico Press who have assisted me in this project and in life. In particular, I would like to express my sincere gratitude for the help and support of two colleagues and long time friends, Alejandra Balestra and Gabriela Baeza Ventura. Likewise, I would like to acknowledge the contributions of my mentor and teacher, Dr. Nicols Kanellos, who has patiently taken me by the hand and helped me to develop and become the writer I am today. I would like to dedicate the translation of Chapter 24 of this novel to my compa de letras, Russell Contreras, who nobly lifts to the air the yellow torch of the Latino journalistic tradition. And, finally, I would to express my love and thanks to Sandra Gonzles, who has blessed me with her kindness, her patience, her love and support and has been there for me through the crafting of every word of this translation. T eres mi media naranja: You are my half an orangeno, my better halfno, the apple of my eyeno, well, you know what I mean.

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Introduction
Lucas Guevara: The First Hispanic Novel of Immigration
Immigration has been one of the fundamental bases of Hispanic culture in the United States. It has not only been a sociocultural reality, but also one of the determining factors in the psychology and vision of Latinos living in this country from the beginning of the nineteenth century to the present. Without undermining the significance of Hispanic native culture in the United States, we can confirm that the impact of progressive generations of immigrants primarily from Mexico, the Caribbean, and Central America also in a smaller quantity from Spain and South Americahas consolidated and reinforced the character of Hispanic minorities in the United States during the last two centuries and it has constantly renovated Hispanic culture in this Metropolis. It should not surprise us, therefore, that one of the constant and representative themes in the art and literature of Hispanic groups has been that of their migration to this country. As all themes that emerge from the bases of society and permeate many aspects of life, the theme of the Hispanic immigrant in the Metropolis appears first in the oral lore through personal narrations told by immigrants and later saturates popular expression from the joke to the song and theater. Long before a large number of literary works based on the experience of Latino immigrants appeared in the twentieth century, songs about the misfortune of the poor innocent (greenhorn1) immigrants were heard, and anecdotes, short stories, and jokes were collected in the Hispanic newspapers (Kanellos, 2000). It should not be a surprise that the first example of a novel of Hispanic immigration appeared in 1914 in the city of New York. Since the beginning of the nineteenth century, New York City has been one of the preferred destinations for the Hispanic immigrant; by the end of the nineteenth century almost half of New Yorks community was made up of
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immigrants from all over the world (Gibson, 1790). Thus, the most cosmopolitan city in the United States has been nurturing and sustaining a culture of immigration until the present, and it has continued to be the breeding ground for a written literature on Hispanic immigration, since the appearance of Lucas Guevara2 in 1914, a novel written by Alirio Daz Guerra, a Colombian immigrant. Among the many novels and dramas of immigration3 written in the United States, such as El Sol de Texas (The Texas Sun4 San Antonio, 1972) by Conrado Espinosa, Las aventuras de Don Chipote, o Cuando los pericos mamen (The Adventures of Don Chipote, or When Parrots Breastfeed, Los Angeles, 1928), La factora by Gustavo de Alemn Bolaos (The Factory, published in 1925 in Guatemala, but written in New York), Trpico en Manhattan by Guillermo Cotto-Thurner (The Tropics in Manhattan, San Juan, 1951), La carreta (The Oxcart) by Ren Marqus (a play presented in New York in 1952), El Sper by Ivn Acosta (The Superintendent, New York, 1977), Odisea del norte by Mario Bencastro (Odyssey to the North, written in Washington, published in Houston, 1998), El gran pltano (The Big Banana, written in New York, published in Houston, 1998) and Nunca entres por Miami (Never through Miami, written in New York, published in 2002), both written by Roberto Quesada. These works share the descriptions of the misfortunes of a poor greenhorn (verde) who has come to the United States to better his/her lifeor rather, to seek his/her fortune in the Land of Opportunitybut who, in the end, is disillusioned as a consequence of oppression of the working class, racial discrimination, the criminal underworld and the capitalism in the United States that destroy the Latinos most upheld values, such as religion, family, machismo, language, and culture. In this way, immigrant literature in the Spanish language constructs a myth opposed to the American Dream, in contrast to what occurs in the novel of immigration written in English, which supports this dream as the essence of the American bildungsroman and whose prominent examples are The American by Howard Fast, Studs Lonigan by James Farrell, America, America by Elia Kazan and Call It Sleep by Henry Roth. In fact, Hispanic authors who write their ethnic autobiographies in English cultivate the bildungsroman that supports the myth of the American Dream: Oscar Hijuelos, Edward Rivera, Esmeralda Santiago, Victor Villaseor, etc. (Kanellos, 1988: 219221). Another characteristic of the novels written in Spanish is that, contrary to what often occurs in the novels of immigration in English, immigrants write their own stories,

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not their children (who are more assimilated into American culture and would write in English). Within this context, Lucas Guevara is considered the first novel of immigration written in Spanish and, for that matter, elaborates the ethos and structure in the Hispanic novel of immigration that is repeated in many of the above cited works: 1. An ingenuous but ambitious Hispanic American, fascinated by the Metropoliss advanced civilization, is later disillusioned. 2. The greenhorn is victim to all kinds of abuses by the civil authorities, the supervisors of the places in which he/she works, and the rogues who live off innocent immigrants. 3. The rejection of the materialism and superiority of the Metropolis and the embrace of Latin national and cultural values are considered in the protagonists decision to return to his/her homeland. If he/she does not return, as Lucas Guevara and La carreta teach us, he/she cannot survive in the United States. 4. The plot frequently serves as an excuse for criticism, at times sarcastic, of metropolitan culture: moral and ethical corruption, racial discrimination, and hypocrisy of a sense of superiority. The Metropolis is Babylon, Sodom and Gomorrah; the Anglo Saxon corrupts Latin-American innocence. The American dollar corrupts all. The technological advances of American advanced civilization put an end to honor, dignity and respect. The immigrant is simply a beast of burden or a camello (camel) needed for physical construction of this marvelous technological empire; immigrants are compared to the slaves of Babylon and Egypt, and even to the black slaves in the United States before the abolition of slavery. 5. These works promote a cultural nationalism that tends to protect or preserve the Hispanic religion, language and traditions threatened in the process of assimilation. Abuses by supervisors and Anglo-Saxon authorities are criticized. But many times the harshest criticism is reserved for those who embrace or assimilate into the dominant culture; for the narrators of these stories, the assimilated, or those who pretend to be are depicted negatively as anglicized, renegados (renegades), pochos (non-Mexicans), and pitiyanquis (petite Yankees).

ALIRIO DAZ GUERRA

Lucas Guevara by Alirio Daz Guerra Although many of these works are centered on the adventures of a poor laborer, Lucas Guevara narrates the life of a young man who has traveled to New York City from a provincial town in an unidentified Hispanic-American country in order to obtain higher education. Lucas, a true Candide, from the beginning needs guidance and direction and someone to teach him the ways of the great Babylonian city. A comparison between Santa Catalina, Lucass hometown (a place of origin representative of all Latin America), and New York City/United States is established from the beginning. This comparison is executed by the contrasting values throughout the novel. New York is Babylon while Santa Catalina is Paradise; New York is the headquarters of corruption and Santa Catalina, although impoverished and backwards, is the kingdom of purity and innocence: What grievous errors have we fallen into in our country to send innocent young men away to coalesce like blades of grass in a pasture of vice! . . . And only then can I truly appreciate the treasure of Christian morality that we possess in our native land. New York City may have more people and more trains and more houses and more electric lights and more hotels and more theatres than Santa Catalina, but what does any of this matter, if it lacks our virtue? (157) The only dissonance in the portrait of the country that the narrator presents is in the censure of political corruption that reigns in this and other Hispanic-American countries, which explains, in part, the economic-technological delay and the need to migrate for many of the hispanoamericanos. In their countries, the word liberty was invoked only to defend the tyranny of those in power and to scoff at the rights of the powerless (8) a rich comment from the pen of a writer, anonymous in the novel, who came to New York as a political refugee. This criticism of Latin American politicians and rulers is extended through the entire book, sometimes in long passages that distract from the plot, but that attempt to explain the reason for the constant immigration to the North. But New York is: that terrifying vortex which consumes everything, where an individuals value or worth is predicated upon the greater or lesser number of coins that he carries in his wallet; where no one knows anyone else; where the pauper is persecuted more strongly than

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the criminal; where every job, regardless of how insignificant it may be, has thousands of applicants knocking their heads and subjecting themselves to whatever humiliation is necessary to acquire it; where the charitable institutions only open to accident victims and the infirm; where, crammed into unsanitary edifices, the disenfranchised perish by the hundreds, succumbing to the cold and hunger in the wintertime and dying of inanition and asphyxiation during the summer. That is how he perceived New York, that immense, heterogeneous, and hybrid mass, home to every race of mankind, shelter of every human culture, ocean of every desire, marketplace of every virtue, receptacle of every ambition, a desert where every soul is lost, and a feverish bazaar whose heat turns every heart to stone. (104105) If New York is Babylon, the Bowery is the underworld, the Gomorrah, and that is where the cicerone and rogue Jacinto Peuela takes Lucas to experience the essence of U.S. society. During the day, the Bowery, as the narrator explains, is the center of profiteering, while at night it is an orgy; it is where prostitution, drugs, gambling, and crime rule: treachery, deception, gambling, greed, and the premeditation of crime have all found their place in the Bowery (22). That is where poor, innocent Lucas (Adam) will be seduced by the charms of American Eves and where he will give in to vice until he becomes, first a kept man, and later, a typical rogue of this underworld. That is where the gullible Lucas will lose his innocence to such an extreme that he will not be able to escape to the pristine and innocent world of Santa Catalina: And that is how they live in the Bowery: at the expense of the impotence of the hapless souls who frequent the vicinity and who, when they least expect it, are humiliated and defeated (23). In the same way that Guevaras homeland is not specifically identified in this moral parable, Lucas Guevara is also not defined as an individual, since he is an example of all the Lucas Guevaras that ever have been and that ever will be (10). As in all works of immigration, the protagonist represents all types of Hispanics involved in the great exodus from their native countries in search of a better life in the United States: Almost on a daily basis, Guevara experienced the delight of coming across other Lucases . . . Lucases of different nationalities, but their appearances were identical . . . they were Lucases like him-

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self, innocent, helpless, ignorant of the conditions in which they had come to find themselves, victims of circumstance and of an unforgivable lack of judgment, who were shipped out of their native lands like packages, without so much as a distinguishing mark or tag. (181182) In appearance, Guevara is green and uncouth in the eyes of New Yorkers. He is portrayed as a young, poor, and naive migr: The barbers scissors had not performed their duties on Lucass head in a very long time. He wore a gaudy gray suit, with more wrinkles than stitches, made from a fabric which could only be classified as something between merino and chintz; an astonishing red necktie spattered with green polka dots; a white shirt with a crumpled collar, thanks to the packing for travel, that upon closer inspection exhibited two creases that, for some reason or another, looked like two quasi-black lines; cuffs, which displayed the same distinctive black lines as the collar, and which anyone would have believed to be in all-out fisticuffs with his coat sleeves: for, as the sleeves fought to retreat, the cuffs went on full attack; dark-blue woolen spats with little white buttons down the sides and patent leather toe caps and heels; for a belt, he wore a thin, slimy yellow leather strap, whose tip curled over the opening in front of his trousers; and, to bring this laundry list to a close, Lucas donned an imitation beaver skin felt hat with broad, floppy wings. (11) Lucas, who had only had access to a fairly rudimentary education (4) in Santa Catalina, marvels in his rustic imagination at the streetcars, skyscrapers, the mlange of railcars that raced one after another overhead (9) and the wave of humanity that inundated the sidewalks, to the point of stumbling all over itself (9). The greenhorn Lucas, arrived from his village, a town scarcely populated by two thousand souls, is immediately lost within the temples of Babylon: Mounting a marble staircase, he, who had never seen this type of material used in any form other than that of the modest gravestone at the foot of the altar in the Church of Santa Catalina . . . lighting upon a carpet, he, who had never known any example of this class of artifact other than the prayer rug . . . which his mother brought

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to church to kneel upon as she folded her arms in prayer; finding himself waited upon by servants dressed in tailcoats . . . and then, to top it all off, being hoisted up to the hotels numerous floors by way of some sort of cage-like apparatus . . . . All of this, among other such spectacles, would be able to ruffle not only the hair on the top of the head of good Lucas Guevara, but rather would be able to ruffle the hair on top of the heads of all the Lucas Guevaras that ever have been and that ever will be. (910) This poor young man is destined to be the Adam unguarded against the wiles of the American Eve, who is the incarnation of metropolitan corruption and the seductiveness of the American dollar for Hispanic Americans. This misogynistic vision of the American woman as a characterization of sin and perdition is associated with all Eves in history who have destroyed gullible men with their seductive beauty that hides a cold, treacherous soul. Her freedom to move and her economic power in this mercantile society, in contrast to Latin American mothers and sisters, make them a mortal danger to Hispanic immigrants, who are not accustomed to feminine immorality and aggression. At the end of the novel, the narrator builds an effigy to that infernal goddess: the Statue of Liberty, or better yet, the Statue of Libertinism. The picaresque rogue Peuela, a compatriot of Guevaras who has also come to the city in search of his fortune but who now lives off greenhorns, introduces Lucas to the nightlife in the Bowery. Guevara is mesmerized by the orgy-like vision that Peuela shows him in a brothel, a vision satirized by the narrator, who insists on maintaining the contrast between Paradise and Hell, Santa Catalina and New York: Lucas Guevara remained in a state of absolute shock, his lips half open and his eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets. There, he believed, they were living life to the very fullest; he thought this shop of horrors, whose magnitude could not be fully appreciated, was the grandest expression of desideratum. The legendary Land of Milk and Honey, whose charms he knew thanks to the Bible stories he had learned by heart in his Santa Catalina school. . . . He could not comprehend how those female heads, adorned with chapeaus covered in feathers and flowers, those busts shrouded in ribbon and lace, those figures giving shape to silk and velvet, could be bought for money and at such low prices. (57)

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From this debut to the nightlife until the complete perdition of Guevara, the narrator gives us a wealth of detailed episodes in which Lucas gives in more and more to the sins of the flesh, and becomes yet another rogue, like Jacinto Peuela. Lucas is first a Don Juan who is able to conquer any woman he wants: not only the accountant, but also the maidservant who waited on the table, and even the seamstress, all delighted in Lucass affections (81). In his carnal odyssey, Lucas is infected with a venereal disease, he gets involved in a conflict with a rogue impresario and is arrested, and he is the target of racial insults when he becomes the subject of an article in New Yorks yellow press, which provokes the crowds to scream: Hang him! Hang him! (119). Lucas is rescued from prison only to become a keptman by Mrs. Hendricks, who has been infatuated with him because of the attraction of: certain skins bronzed by the tropical sun, certain black, sleepy eyes; and certain anatomical features not commonly found in the people of North America. This is probably a case of when opposites attract. (144) After he spends all his money on the enjoyment of Eves, Lucas becomes Widow Hendricks kept man. If Lucas Guevara is a type, so is Mrs. Hendricks: Mrs. Hendricks was not a rare breed either, for there were hundreds of women just like her who offered their eccentricities and their bodies to other Lucases, some motivated by hunger, others by gross depravity, who were able to pay for their rent by providing them the only thing that such women could have wanted from them: sex. (182) Kept by Mrs. Hendricks, Lucas earns a living in the same manner that Peuela did: as an opportunist and a dandy. The central episodes of Guevaras total perdition gloss the text of Don Juan Tenorio, with Lucas not only dedicating himself to sexual conquests but also facilitating the conquest of Eves by recent Hispanic American immigrants who came to New York City with the idea that few women are capable of resisting their passionate provocations (166) and after making their Don Juanesque aptitudes evident (175) are forced to pay a visit to the neighborhood pharmacy to fend off the spoils of their glorious victory (176). Guevara himself reflects on his aptitudes and recognizes in others what he calls classic Guevaraism. (182).

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But his triumph does not last long; after enduring the increasing mistreatment because of Hendricks jealousy, Guevara is brutally beaten and thrown out. Oppressed by the city that is now presented as a relentless, murderous, and hideous phantom (190), he works as an interpreter while continuing to live as a rogue. When he is fired from the store in which he has been employed, he is unable to find a room in the cramped public shelters and has to spend the winter suffering cold, hunger and fatigue (203). Lucas descends to the lowest and most desolate place in his odyssey when he is forced to live among the most miserable in the wealthiest city on Earth: Lucas had never before seen such a hybrid, repugnant, and lugubrious mass of people; it was a room full of desolation, moral decay, and inexpressible grief. Misery could be seen there in all of its maddening forms: from that which consumes the impudent youths who have just commenced their descent into the abyss, to the abject elderly folk, who, without enough valor to cut the last thin thread that ties them to life, insist on going on with the struggle, perhaps because they imagine that there must be even more profound chasms of human degeneration. (204) Although the novel does not present a healthy, successful, and chaste Hispanic-American model in New York, Lucas as an individual soul has three moments of disenchantment in which he is offered the possibility of liberating himself from the sinful city: to fully appreciate the ignominious farce that had enveloped him; he contemplated, in their totality, the abject motifs (101) and return to Santa Catalina. He even writes to inform his father of his tragic situation. But the same corrupt agents employed by Don Andrs, Lucass father, convince the patriarch that they will care for Lucas and will straighten him out. In spite of his descent into shame, poverty and misery, our tragic protagonist returns to sin as soon as he is offered the economic resources to continue with his libertinism. As a last opportunity to mend his ways and gain redemption, Lucas obtains a modest job, which allows him to earn a living; yet, not withstanding his past misfortunes, Women continued to exercise an irresistible influence over him, a command from whose grasp he was not able to free himself for as much as he promised to mend his ways or for as many angelic

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spirits who, from the celestial realms, struggled to carry him to safer shores. (220) Everything worsens, when all of a sudden, Lucas impregnates his inkeepers daughter. Lucas wants to force her to end the pregnancy, but the inkeepers threats force Lucas to marry the young woman. He becomes the target of constant attacks from both his wife and mother-in-law. In a sea of depression, Lucas sees Lady Liberty pointing out for him, with a tragic finger, the path to the abyss of redemption (222). It points at the famous technological wonder of the world at that time, the Brooklyn Bridge. Lucas decides to commit suicide precisely there, drowning in the waters of the East River. Although Lucas receives the most cruel and definitive punishment that a literary character can receive (to die in mortal sin as a result of his/her transgressions), the narrator clarifies that Lucas was a victim of the environment into which he was thrown by paternal ignorance or lack of foresight, without a virtuous or merciful arm to support and protect him; especially when it was necessary for him to take his first steps under those conditions, the whirlwind concluded by carrying him away (222). In this way, Lucas becomes an example of the dangers that threaten Hispanic Americans who come to the United States in search of fortune, attracted by the shine of the dollar and the technological and industrial advances. New York/United States is a tempting, inhuman Eve, who is incapable of loving and will use young Hispanic men as sexual objects or beasts of burden in the construction of her commercial wealth and the ecstasy of her infernal orgy. The Brooklyn Bridge, categorized in the first chapter as one of New Yorks truly treasured landmarks, does however represent the ultimate expression of human progress in this type of establishment (9), will serve as the pedestal for Lucass mortal jump. The Statue of Liberty, described in the introductory chapter as the sacred symbol of the American people (78), is now seen as a monument to aggressive feminine freedom in the United States. They may know how to spell the word love, but they certainly do not know the organ in which it can be found; they never love anyone, because they do not want to be slaves to anything or anyone; of course, slavery has been dead for them here since the time of Lincoln, and now they share only one ideal: that of freedom, which controls their actions with even greater vigor and severity, from the very moment when Frdric Bartholdi, the sculptor,

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molded that effigy of a goddess of colossal proportions and it occurred to the French government to give it to the United States so that it could be erected in the New York Harbor. (187) Both symbols of New York/United Statesthe Statue of Liberty and the Brooklyn Bridgereduce the temptations for the young Hispanic man to the dichotomy between freedom/libertinism (the Statue of Liberty or of Libertinism) and the bridge of progress (technological knowledge or death), a progress created by a generation of cyclopses and titans (7). Lucas is the victim of those pagan, or shall we say, infernal gods. In this way Daz Guerra discredits the American Dream not only through providing a tragic ending to this morality play, but also by inverting the same symbols of Anglo-American superiorityfreedom and progress (industrial, commercial, technological). As in the majority of Hispanic immigration novels, the explicit moral for readers in Latin America is that they should stay in their native countries and not be deceived by the U.S. myth, because the Metropolis, instead of being the road to perfection, is the road to perdition. The Metropolis in the North seduces; it appears to offer opportunity, freedom, and capital to Hispanic Americans who do not have access to them in their own countries. But, at the same time, this Metropolis devours gullible men. Given that the distribution of Lucas Guevara had to be more extensive in New York than in Hispanic Americaand that its ideal reader was the Hispanic immigrant more than the potential immigrantits protagonists tragedy was a warning doubly pertinent to Hispanics living in the belly of the beast. The biting and moralizing satire in this novel reinforces the rejection of Anglo-American culture and the preservation of Hispanic-American identity, a purpose shared by the majority of the works on immigration written in Spanish. Alirio Daz Guerra Alirio Daz Guerra, born in Sogamosa, Colombia, in 1862, experienced disillusionment and deceit throughout his entire life. He was born to a prominent family dedicated to politics, his father having served as the General Treasurer of the Republic of Colombia. Daz Guerra became involved in politics at an early age.5 He also cultivated literature as a hobby, publishing poetry in several newspapers in Bogot. At the age of twenty he

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published his first book of poetry, Ensayos Literarios (poems), which had a strong romantic character. In the poem Pez in this collection, an early preoccupation with exile is evident; serving perhaps as an omen of his future political misadventures and of his own death away from his native land: Overwhelmed by the weight of his triumphs When his own fame hurts him And is applauded among the greatest: He exhales, exiled from his native home His last breath in a foreign land. (11) This foreshadow is repeated in the last poem in the collection, ltima Pgina (Last Page), where the hands of destiny take the subject to die on foreign beaches (55). In 1884, Daz Guerra founded the newspaper El Liberal (The Liberal) that opposed the Rafael Nez regime and in 1885 the young editor joined the liberal revolution. After the ill-fated battle of La Humareda, Daz Guerra is forced to flee Venezuela when pursued by Colombian government agents. According to his memoirs, Diez aos en Venezuela (Ten Years in Venezuela), not published until 1933, his contact with Venezuelan liberals resulted in his being named to a government position as private secretary to the president of the Republic of Venezuela. While he serveed the president with distinction, Daz Guerra published poems in Venezuelan newspapers; he also published articles that attacked the Colombian government. These aggressive and incendiary attitudes forced the government to fire him from his position in the presidential cabinet. Outside of the government, from 1887 to 1890, Daz Guerra worked for the Compaa Inglesa, commissioned for the construction of the railroad between Caracas and Santa Luca. It is believed that if he did not speak English when he entered the company and he must have certainly learned it before leaving. Also during this time, he worked as a physician, a profession for which presumably he studied while in Venezuela. In 1892, Daz Guerra was rehabilitated politically and once again was appointed private secretary to the Venezuelan president. The following year, he published his second book of poetry, Versos (Verses) in Caracas, Venezuela. Although Daz Guerras life was privileged as a result of his political positions and his marriage to the daughter of a distinguished family in

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Venezuela, his decision to support Colombian revolutionary forces from his office under Venezuelas president endangered this situation. In 1895, he was forced to leave Venezuela with his family and to take up exile in New York, where he lived until his death thirty years later (the year of his death and the place where his body is buried are unknown).6 Once in New York, it is believed that in order to support his family, Daz Guerra worked as salesman for a pharmaceutical firm.7 Even before his arrival in New York, Daz Guerra corresponded with Hispanic intellectuals in the Metropolis (see his satirical commentaries in Lucas Guevara), publishing poetry in newspapers and magazines in the city,8 such as La Revista Ilustrada (The Illustrated Review).9 In 1901 he published two poetry books in New York: Nuevas Poesas (New Poems) and Ecco homo. The former reflects his exile from Venezuela and opens with Ofrenda (Offering), a lament for having missed his recently diseased fathers funeral: Deep sea and strange latitudes I was separated from you when The sun of my existence was barely Pouring rays of youth on my forehead. . The freedom, in my native places, Involved itself in a shroud of darkness; I seized my pilgrim cane, And went to search on foreign beaches Safe shelter to my yearnings as a man. (67) The bitterness at being exiled is also present in the poem Voces ntimas (Intimate Voices): And I had to be the expiatory victim Who would accept the sacrifice in silence. The profile of my native hills clouded by The cries and sorrow of your thick blindfold And I went to nail down my desolate tent Below another light and in other horizons. (140) But the most desolate tent that he had to nail down was to deposit his son Hernando in the cold soil of New York; a burial documented in Nuevas Poesas.

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Published as part of Nuevas Poesas and separately in 1901, Ecce Homo, the second book published while in exile, is composed of a long narrative poem of a philosophical and religious nature, demonstrating the new moralistic direction that will be the basis of Lucas Guevara in 1914. According to Leavit and Prada, Daz Guerra published a book of poetry, Albores (Dawning), and a play, El veredicto social (The Social Verdict), during his career, but these, until now, have not been located (see Leavit). On the page Also by Alirio Daz Guerra, included in this edition of Lucas Guevara, we have included along with the works already mentioned: La Madre Cayetana (poem), La Inundacin y Rosala (poems), Alberto (poem), Poesas, May (novelsocial study), De los peridicos (various articles), ltimas Rimas (poems) and, as a work in progress, Libro de las Canciones. Beltrn Guerrero (121) adds another title to Daz Guerras collection, Otoales (poems), published in Maracaibo in 1925. As can be seen, Alirio Daz Guerra is more of a prolific author than what is indicated by the scarce vestiges that we have found. Of extreme interest, we believe, will be the novel May (apparently titled in English), because we may be able to add another document to the list of immigration novels. Alirio Daz Guerras biography demonstrates the process of transition (and transculturation) of many authors who traveled to the United States as political exiles and decided to stay and integrate themselves into the communities of Hispanic immigrants; like Daz Guerra, many of them have left a literary legacy that can only be understood as literature of immigration and not of exile, since the purpose of the latter is to comment on the culture and politics of the native homeland. Lucas Guevara by Daz Guerra describes his adoptive country and, above all, details the odyssey of the Hispanic immigrant who tries to accommodate to this great Metropolis. Nicols Kanellos University of Houston Imara Liz Hernndez University of Houston

Notes
1. Verdes, or greens in Spanish, was the nickname given in written and oral literature to the recent migr to the Metropolis; it represented those people who had little experience with technological advances and the sophisticated customs of the city. For more information on the folklore of Mexican immigrants, see Amrico Paredes. 2. The first copy of Lucas Guevara was found by Nicols Kanellos in 1976 in the New York Public Library, but it was not until ten more years of research on other immigration novels that we were able to conclude that this was (until we find another of an earlier publishing date) the first in a literary genre cultivated by many Hispanic American authors of diverse nationalities in the United States. Thanks to the Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage, we had the resources to organize a research committee that searched for other books writen by Alirio Daz Guerra and for his biographical data in order to write an introduction to this novel. 3. Immigration as a theme was also evident in vaudeville theatre in Hispanic communities in the United States. See Nicols Kanellos, A History of the Hispanic Theatre in the United States: Origins to 1940, where you will find a detailed study of this theme. 4. English translation forthcoming in 2004. 5. Most of this biographical data is taken from his memoirs, Diez aos en Venezuela. 6. Jos Beltrn Guerrero, in Ha Vuelto Alirio, documents Daz Guerras visit to Caracas in 1931 and in 1933; thus, we know that Daz Guerra lived in New York more than thirty years. 7. According to an interview with Pedro Daz Seijas, great-nephew to Daz Guerra, conducted by Liz I. Hernndez in January, 1995. 8. As stated by Dr. Pedro Daz Seijas, op. cit., Daz Guerra received many literary recognitions in Central America, including a homage in Nicaragua. In the Panamanian newspapers Daily Star and Herald (12, 13, 14 June 1895), he published a series of letters involving the Venezuelan government and the Colombian revolutionary cause, which caused his
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ALIRIO DAZ GUERRA

exile. Gaceta Oficial Estados Unidos de Venezuela (27 June 1895), p. 1, announced the explusion from national territory of doctor Alirio Daz Guerra; Governor of the Federal District is to notify him that he should embark through La Guaira port as soon as possible. Also refer to Mario Torrealba Lossi, Alirio Daz Guerra y Nuestra Historia. 9. See A un arroyo, La Revista Ilustrada (11 November 1883).

Bibliography
Beltrn Guerrero, Jos. Ha Vuelto Alirio. Candideces. Caracas: Editorial Arte, 1988. 118121. Daz Guerra, Alirio. A un arroyo. La Revista Ilustrada 11 noviembre (1883). _____. Diez aos en Venezuela. Caracas: Editorial Elit, 1933. _____. Ecco Homo. New York: Imprenta Hispano-Americana, 1901. _____. Ensayos literarios. Bogot: Imprenta de Gonzlez & Co., 1882. _____. Lucas Guevara. New York: York Printing Co., 1914. _____. La madre Cayetana. Bogot: Imprenta de Gaitn, 1883. _____. Nuevas poesas. New York: s.d., 1901. _____. Poesas. Caracas: Imprenta Bolvar, 1893. Gibson, Campbell J., and Emily Lennon. Historical Census Statistics on the Foreign-born Population of the United States: 18501990. Washington DC: Bureau of the Census, Population Division Working Paper No. 29, 1999. Kanellos, Nicols. A History of the Hispanic Theatre in the United States: Origins to 1940. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1990. _____. Cronistas and Satire in Early Twentieth Century Hispanic Newspapers. Melus 23/1 (1998): 325. _____. La literatura hispana de los Estados Unidos y el gnero autobiogrfico. Hispanos en los Estados Unidos. Ed. Rodolfo J. Cortina and Alberto Moncada. Madrid: Editoriales de Cultura Hispnica, 1988. 21930. Leavit, Sturgis E., and Carlos Garca-Prada. A Tentative Bibliography of Colombian Literature. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1934. Paredes, Amrico. El folklore de los grupos de origen mexicano en los Estados Unidos. Foklore Americano 14/4 (1966): 146-63. Torrealba Lossi, Mario. Alirio Daz Guerra y Nuestra Historia. El Universal (May 17, 1995): 15.

xxiii

I
In an old house on the east side of Ninth Street, which from the look of its exterior appeared something more than democratic, Lucas Guevara arranged for his accommodations in New York City by paying a weekly rent of five and a half dollars, with an accord made between hostess and boarder that if Lucas were to occasionally purchase his meals outside of the boardinghouse which is what they call this sort of establishment in North Americathe proprietress would reduce his stipulated rent by fifteen cents. Said boardinghouse, as whoever has lived in New York City already knows, and as those uninitiated to the great metropolis will soon discover, was not located in a very favorable neighborhood. Its proximity to the East River, the hordes of Italians, Turks, and Poles which plague such vicinities, and the scores of denizens of ill repute who flood into those parts in pursuit of other peoples possessions, are the reasons why strangers to such purlieus find themselves compelled to make frequent use of their handkerchiefs to cover their noses during the day, and at night, to seek out the protective safety net of the Officers of the Peace, entrusted to keep vigil over
3

ALIRIO DAZ GUERRA

moral conduct and individual security in the sort of environs where Lucas Guevara was unfortunate enough to reside. The dormitory assigned to Lucas in the aforementioned boardinghouse, resembling more of a narrow hallway than a room, was so slender that it was difficult for the scarce rays of light which filtered through an aperture, part rift, part window, to scatter their luminescence. The furniture consisted of a folding iron bed; a table, which played the triple role of escritoire, nightstand, and washbasin; and, finally, a stool which had played companion to some piano in a bygone era. On the walls, in two picture frames sullied by age, dust, and insects, hung hallway vignettes of nude feminine silhouettes which the same three destructive forces had enveloped in a kind of saffron tunic, as not to offend Lucas Guevaras sense of decency nor that of the tenants who had previously inhabited his quarters. The meals which Lucas enjoyed in the family boarding homea modest appellation applied to the residence by Madame Bonfati, a chubbycheeked Alsatian woman of pleasant demeanor, who counted among her many personal foibles the ability to speak four or five languages, all very poorly, Spanish being among themdid not compare to those of the great gourmets like Delmonico or Savarin; but, if the truth be told, when one takes into account the reasonableness of the price which she charged for each meal, they were more than sufficient to keep his stomach entertained, although it was occasionally necessary for him to attend to his gastronomic cleanliness and proper digestive function with a dose of castor oil or soda bicarbonate. Lucas Guevara was a young man of just twenty years of age, hailing from Santa Catalina, a humble village in a province of the Republic of ***. He had spent the greater part of his days dedicating himself to farm labor and matters of commerce as an assistant to his father, Seor Don Andrs Guevara, who, in addition to being the proprietor of a productive coffee plantation, was also the owner of the town store, which sold a vast array of articles, including: sundries, cereals, spirits, medicines, hardware, breads, cheeses, sweets, and, in short, whatever was necessary to satisfy the fancy of the people from those parts. Lucas Guevara had only received a fairly rudimentary education because the government of the Republic of *** had not given enough attention to public education, no doubt determining academic institutions to be lascivious dens of infernal spirits which, therefore, continue to challenge the populations religious inclinations and patriarchal customsbut it is

LUCAS GUEVARA

important to recognize that he did possess an obvious mind for business and a keen and sharp wit. There was no lack of well-intentioned friends who advised Don Andrs to favor his son with whatever sacrifice was necessary to procure for him the very best education possible. And the observations were so constant and so judiciously petitioned that his indulgent fatherin spite of his own pastoral preoccupationsended up giving in to them. And that is how, on one particular morning, a gentleman mounted upon his favorite mule and began his trek to the provincial capital with the aim of holding an audience with his compadre, Dr. Melchor Galndez, a renowned lawyer, distinguished politician, unconditional partisan to all governments, and, according to what was widely whispered, very well acquainted with the outside world, judging from the letters and periodicals he received with postage stamps from various foreign countries. As one might presume, or if not presumed then it must be noted, after hearing Don Andrs recommendations for his sons education with the majestic calm of a jurist, Dr. Galndez lauded the idea enthusiastically; and since his advice had been solicited, he asserted that there was no education which compared with that to be found in the United States; for, above all, it was the most practical. He verified his claim by citing examples and he demonstrated with encyclopedic erudition that no other city in the world possessed colleges comparable to those found in New York City; he concluded his discourse by assuring the dumbfounded Don Andrs that he would be willing to assist him in overcoming any obstacles which might arise; he would line Lucas Guevaras pockets with letters of recommendation; and finally, he would make himself personally responsible for attending to the remittance of funds for the young fellows subsistence while away at school. These services, the lawyer guaranteed with his word of honor, would be performed absolutely free of charge, due to the natural familial considerations and to his unquestionable interest in Lucasss future. This was a pill, which should be said between quotation marks, which Don Andrs was ready to swallow but would not have been swallowed, not even in dosimetric form, by any person who was the slightest bit familiar with the caliber of the none-too-Christian sentiments inspired by professionals of Dr. Galndezs character and disposition. The journey thus agreed upon and the budget for expenses drawn up and revised, the day came when Lucas, after bidding farewell to the townspeople, left his paternal home, taking with him a small trunk of clothes, but

ALIRIO DAZ GUERRA

an abundant cargo of scapulars, chaplets, and other pious baubles, which, in addition to saving his soul from Satans temptations, would protect his spirit from the paths of evil, the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, the inclemency of the god Neptune, and any other diabolical influences.

v
After numerous days on the high seas, without any distraction other than the ever-present monotonous mass of clouds overhead and waves, now tumultuous, now tranquil, down belowan image of human destiny which ignores what will be made of the encounter on the other side of that black brush stroke traced by the horizon when joining the heavens with the sea and extends in pursuit of illusions which vanish to make room for new dreamsthe first mates sighting made out, at last, an irresolute line in the hazy distance and gave the joyous declaration that the ship was now approaching land. Oh what an incredible range of emotions set the passengers hearts racing! Glee was painted with vivacious color on the countenances of those who in a few hours would, perhaps, find themselves in the arms of those who anxiously awaited them onshore; their bosoms would be wed and they would burst in an explosion of affection. The despair of the others cast a shadow over the neophytes, as the black bird of bitter recollections flapped its wings over the heads of those left behind on far-off, but still cherished, beaches now engulfed in profound sorrow, bits of their souls remaining in the sanctuary of true love. The former smiled in the presence of opportunity, leaving behind the uncertain, the indifferent, the easily forgotten; while the others trembled and quaked with remorse and regret: heavy shadows veiled their spirits, still unable to dispel the clarity of their grave misfortune, abandoned there, beneath another sun, in other climes . . . It was a cloudy day and the panorama which spread out before the passengers eyes concealed its contours among undulating waves of fog. Nevertheless, as the mist took possession of the bay, a plume of smoke approached the great metropolis, and everyones astonished gazedespite the fact that there may have been a few among them who had made the journey more than once beforesurveyed the shapes of the immensely gigantic and the absolutely unknown. This was the vertigo of life, the highest and ultimate expression of motion, the most complete manifestation of

LUCAS GUEVARA

grandeur, the inconceivable, the majestic, the impossible to describe. Hundreds of ships from all the nations of the world flow into and set sail from that harbor, parading from their masts the various colors of their flags and deafening the area with foghorn blasts, whose hoarse cries seem to be the universal salute to the spirit of progress embodied in this colossal North American country which has achieved the greatest triumphs of civilization in such a short existence. Thousands of vessels of every shape and size crisscross each other in every direction, some like weightless seagulls clipping the water with the thrust of swollen sails, others behind the force of propellers or waterwheels: paddle wheels, propellers, sails, oars, all spinning around, showing themselves off, becoming intertwined, floating, moving forward, and melting into one another in a dazzling and fantastic whirlwind which leaves the impression of the infinite iridescence of a gigantic kaleidoscope in the heart of the astonished traveler. A uniform gray sky, as if bewildered by so much turmoil, as if made seasick from so much movement, laboriously gathers smoke discharged by innumerable chimneys: the smoke disperses into the clouds; the sky cloaks itself with the smoke clouds, then dissipates them slowly in order to receive the next wave of that incense which mankind offers up to the altars of labor. Islands resembling floating gardens can be seen all around: picturesque shores covered with luxuriant vegetation, populated by buildings of every conceivable shape and size, crossed by locomotives which stretch before them in rapid succession; a seething congregation of people of every national dress and origin devoted to their vocations with such energy and such enthusiasm that it incites a sense of pride and respect for the virtue and glorification of work in the spirit of he who witnesses it for the first time. At the heart of such a capacious panorama, New York City is revealed, its immense surface disappearing from view. The densely woven net of masts on anchored vessels, which receive and deliver the thousands of products which sustain commerce, expands like an insurmountable wall at the feet of the imposing metropolis. Like a link in the splendid chain which connects its industries, the Brooklyn Bridge projects its silhouette of multiple interlacing metallic threads; it is such an incredible feat of extraordinary conception and courage that it appears as though it alone sums up the simultaneous efforts of a whole generation of cyclopses and titans. And as a final stroke of light on a magnificent, austere, imposing, and majestic scene, atop its lofty granite pedestal stands the Statue of Liberty, the sacred

ALIRIO DAZ GUERRA

symbol of the American people, in whose shadow they have achieved all of their victories and have marched on to the future guided by the inextinguishable torch which has been ignited for that purpose, and whose light invigorates all with a love which sets ones heart on fire upon feeling her welcoming embrace. As the steamboat passed before the statue, the passengers huddled together on the top deck, and it was impossible for anyone not to feel stirred by the presence of that immortal effigy, or to think back to the abandoned beaches left behind, very far behind, where the word liberty was invoked only to defend the tyranny of those in power and to scoff at the rights of the powerless. And the boat continued to advance in the direction of the pier as the haze went forth effacing the statues profile. Soon, the throng of passengers stepped off to dry land and was lost among the chaos of that great city. A concierge from the Hotel Norte Americano, an asylum for the majority of the Hispanic Americans who come to New York City for the first time without knowing anyone or speaking a word of English, took charge of Lucas Guevara; he procured a prompt documents and luggage inspection from the customs agents for him. Then, taking the trunk lined with colored tin sheets, which constituted the guests baggage, and handing it over to a delivery company employee, the concierge took Lucas under his arm to escort him to the hotel.

II
Naturally, Lucas Guevara and his associate did not traverse the span between the harbor and the hotel on foot, for the distance between two places was considerably more than a mere stones throw away; and, because it was also impossible to keep the hotel concierge from recording this transportation expenditure on a long list of extras which he charged his guestswith interest. Ah! What an impression must have been made on the rustic imagination of the newly arrived when, as a passenger on one of the streetcars, he began to gallivant about the avenues and boulevards and contemplate the unbroken chain of buildings in the great Gotham, the mlange of railcars that raced one after another overhead, the carts and carriages that mired themselves in the traffic on the street, the traveling musicians who gave no rest to their lungs, and finally, the wave of humanity that inundated the sidewalks, to the point of stumbling all over itself. Having suddenly left Santa Catalina, a hamlet of scarcely two-thousand inhabitants, and finding himself almost instantaneously transported into the heart of the giant metropolis would be enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity; then arriving at the Hotel Norte Americano, which, if not considered one of New Yorks truly treasured landmarks, does however represent the ultimate expression of human progress in this type of establishment
9

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ALIRIO DAZ GUERRA

in the mind of a son of Santa Catalina, or that of any other similar province. Mounting a marble staircase, he, who had never seen this type of material used in any form other than that of the modest gravestone at the foot of the altar in the Church of Santa Catalina marking the mortal remains of an old prelate who had left the earth and gone to the bosom of Abraham out of sanctity; lighting upon a carpet, he, who had never known of this class of artifact other than the prayer rug, hemmed with ornamental fringe, which his mother brought to church to kneel upon as she folded her arms in prayer; finding himself waited upon by servants dressed in tailcoats, he, who had never imagined that the gods of fashion could have created such refinery; and then, to top it all off, being hoisted up to the hotels numerous floors by way of some sort of cage-like apparatus, inside of which the sons of Adam if not so civilizedwould easily recognize their remarkable similarity to the animal kingdom and accept Darwins theory of evolution without further debate. All of this, among other such spectacles, would be able to ruffle not only the hair on the top of the head of good Lucas Guevara, but rather would be able to ruffle the hair on top of the heads of all the Lucas Guevaras that ever have been and that ever will be. Among the many letters of recommendation which Don Andrs compadre, the attorney, had bestowed upon Lucas, there was one, the most important oneaddressed to one of his fellow countrymen, Don Arnulfo Jimeno, a member of a commodities exchange company which was publicly known as the firm of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co.in which he authorized Don Arnulfo to furnish the bearer of the letter with a pension of thirty dollars a month until otherwise notified. At the same time, he entreated Don Arnulfo to favor Lucas with his good advice and wise counsel, recalling the occasion when Don Arnulfo had personally pledged to each of his friends that he would play the role of guardian angel to any young soul who might wish to receive an education in the United States. The hotel concierge, as soon as he was certain that his new guest had settled in comfortably, proceeded with a measure of precautionfor Lucass bags suggested that their owner might not have lined his pockets with a sufficient amount of American greenbacks. And since such details did not escape the attention of the hotel agent, who could find a glimmer of hope of receiving what they call a commission even at Dantes Gates of Hell, he asked Lucas if he had any letters which he wished to disclose, bills of exchange to present, or any document of interest which he would like to

LUCAS GUEVARA

11

bring to bear; for, if so, he would be at his disposal and place himself at Lucass unconditional service to assist him as guide and mentor in the tumultuous labyrinth of the city. The hotel representative, using his keen eyeseyes which seem to have been made specifically for this purposeupon reading the addresses written upon the envelopes which Lucas had removed from his pocket and placed into his hands, employed his extraordinary professional instincts and predicted which letter among them was the one that would garner preferential treatment. And that is why, half an hour later, Lucas and his companion presented themselves at the office of the aforementioned commodities broker. A secretary stopped her work and rose from her seat to welcome the visitors and inquire as to the purpose of their visit. She was a haughty young lady, whose lips, like those of the worker beside her, formed a wry smile when gazing upon Guevara. Of course, this labial manifestation was not without just cause, for the young mans mannerisms, his characteristic style of dress, and his messy hair, which created the impression that the first winds of autumn had already begun to make their presence felt, could do no less than pique the curiosity and laughter of these daughters of Eve, who were undoubtedly still unaccustomed to attending to and communicating with such people. The barbers scissors had not performed their duties on Lucass head for a very long time. He wore a gaudy gray suit, with more wrinkles than stitches, made from a fabric which could only be classified as something between merino and chintz; an astonishingly red necktie spattered with green polka dots; a white shirt with a crumpled collar, thanks to the packing for travel, that upon closer inspection exhibited two creases that, for some reason or another, looked like two quasi-black lines; cuffs, which displayed the same distinctive black lines as the collar, and which anyone would have believed to be in all-out fisticuffs with his coat sleeves: for, as the sleeves fought to retreat, the cuffs went on full attack; dark-blue woolen spats with little white buttons down the sides and patent leather toe caps and heels; for a belt, he wore a thin, slimy yellow leather strap, whose tip curled over the opening in front of his trousers; and, to bring this laundry list to a close, Lucas donned an imitation beaver skin felt hat with broad, floppy wings, which was one of the hats that had arrived at Don Andrs store just a few weeks before Lucass departure and had become an instant fashion craze among the residents of Santa Catalina.

12

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The hotel concierge indicated to the young secretary that he wished to speak with Seor Jimeno in order to deliver a very important message, but he suffered the misfortune that said gentleman was not yet in the office. He should be arriving presently, added the young lady. So, if you would be so kind, please take a seat and wait. The hotel representative told Lucas what the situation was. After a brief consultation, in which he insisted on the need to meet with the commodities broker, they accepted the hospitality which the secretary had offered them. The young lady returned to her desk, and after a few moments, a staccato clattering was again heard in the office coming from the typewriters the two workers seemed to wield with some dexterity. In another adjoining suite, there was a large group of secretaries, who, for one reason or another, peeked their heads around the door and cast scrutinizing glances at the two visitors. Guevara went from shock to absolute amazement. His cicerone hastened to explain to Lucasfirstly, to kill time, and secondly, to demonstrate his extensive knowledge regarding the matterthat these girls were mere employees who made but eight to ten dollars a week, perhaps even less; that those machines pounding away with that continuous tap-taptapping were typewriters; and that the import and export business was considered one of the most lucrative, so much so, he explained, that this was precisely how, with only a few clients, businessmen like Seor Jimeno could afford to maintain such luxurious offices and such a long train of employees. And, since it just so happened that the telephone rang at that very instant and all of the secretaries raced to answer the call and began to converse with an invisible interlocutor, the concierge, who saw the paralyzing fear in the young mans startled eyes, dispelled his torpid curiosity by explaining Alexander Graham Bells miraculous invention, if not in a truly scientific manner, at least in accordance with the intellectual capacities of a representative from the Hotel Norte Americano. More than half an hour had transpired before Seor Jimeno finally presented himself at the office. He was round about the midsection and short in stature, surly haired, with a pointed moustache, and forswore both combs and cosmetics respectively; the color of his skin revealed his indigenous ancestry and made it necessary to have a look at his baptismal record to determine Don Arnulfos exact age. Rumor has it that his parents had wanted to dedicate him to

LUCAS GUEVARA

13

the ecclesiastical life, but the horrors that the professors in the seminary had encountered when attempting to beat Luis Antonio de Nebrijas grammar into Seor Jimenos head made it impossible for the poor clergymen to endure any more punishment. This debacle in his education caused Don Arnulfos father to consider sending him to the United States to a school of agriculture, because in his native country it was said that a good farmer needed only to throw the eye of a potato into a field to instantly become a millionaire. But his studies in agriculture must not have been very satisfactory, for the truth of the matter is that he returned to his country only a few years later. He never even dared to yoke any of the oxen, nor did the local newspapers welcome him home, not even with the short articles which are customary on such occasions. So he took another trip to North America, joined in marriage to a tenderhearted young lady who had furnished their bridal chamber with, in addition to her skeletal and muscular robustness, a dowry of no negligible consideration, which was something Don Arnulfo had lusted after in order to establish himself as a legitimate businessman and founder of the firm of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co. He took the liberty to proclaim himself a high society financier and as shrewd a politician as Prince Tayllerand, on account of the fact that he continued to keep correspondence with various notable personages in the gubernatorial spheres of the Republic of ***. And, last but not least, Seor Jimenos merits were crowned by a religious spirituality that was so terribly melodramatic that he carried a crucifix of none-too-diminutive proportions on his watch fob and even attended mass frequently and without protest, as often happens with other mortals who also enjoy excessive liberties and who routinely violate more than just one of the Ten Commandments. Don Arnulfo formed a peculiar grin, in the shape of a prudish and saccharine salutation, at the unfamiliar visitors. But once informed of who they were and after having given the letter which was handed to him a quick once over, as they say, he asked them to enter his own private office. He offered them a seat and then settled into his own cozy swivel chair. And after getting caught up to date with more careful discussion regarding the epistle in question, he indicated to Lucas that it was a great pleasure to make his acquaintance, that he would place himself at his service, and that of course Lucas could count on him to pay his corresponding monthly pension. He pressed a button sounding an electric bell, and one of the secre-

14

ALIRIO DAZ GUERRA

taries immediately presented herself in the office door. Call the cashier, ordered Seor Jimeno with a determined voice. And the cashier did not delay in making his appearance. Take note of this order, he said to his subordinate, handing him the letter. And please make Mr. Guevaras acquaintance, as you will be assisting him with any future requests. The cashier looked obliquely and with glacial indifference at the young man. He spun on his heels and left the room without saying a word. At the same time, Don Arnulfo, alleging his many peremptory obligations, stood up and extended his hand to his interlocutors as a sign of farewell now that the interview had been concluded. He took note of the hotels address where Lucas was staying. He accompanied the two visitors to the door. Upon seeing them go in, he returned to his place in his posh swivel chair, lit a cigar, put his feet up on the desk, and dedicated himself to blowing smoke rings that he himself dispersed with silent and prolonged breaths of air.

III
Another one of the letters of recommendation which Lucas was provided with was addressed to a gentleman by the name of Don Cesreo de Albornoz, who was also one of his compatriots but had resided in New York City for about eleven or twelve years. In his youth, Don Cesreo was an accomplished local politician. But this distasteful profession did not correspond to his personal ambitions; and, therefore, disillusioned and under solemn oath never again to set foot on his native soil, due to the fact that his fellow countrymenwhom he considered to have no common sense whatsoeverhad not known how to fully appreciate his talents, he emigrated from his place of birth and went to try his luck as a voluntary expatriate in New Orleans. He lived there for nearly two years. During this time he scarcely made a living by giving lessons on the guitar, an instrument which he did not play with much skill; but, he was thoroughly convinced, of course, that no other musician could play it better: a very reasonable and logical assumption if one takes into account that, above all, Seor de Albornoz was a citizen of the Republic of ***, and
15

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ALIRIO DAZ GUERRA

he could not go against the natural disposition of his compatriots, who live under the blissfully ignorant notion that they are all illustrious statesmen, consummate and confirmed Machiavellians, the most brilliant stars in the firmaments of commerce, art, and literature simply because they break out into song every time they hear the bandurria or because they possess some similarly mundane talent. It matters not that the wave of popular ingratitude or train of imitations oblige them to give up, just like Seor de Albornoz had done, the flattery of provincial fame beneath their own pastoral skies. Weary, then, of imparting musical instruction and living in that port city, Don Cesreo resolved to take a trip to New York; and it was there that, without anyone knowing or being able to explain how he was able to attend to his basic necessities, he managed to make an apparently comfortable living, for not only did he dress rather respectably, but his hearty physique likewise demonstrated that he never wanted for his daily sustenance. However, scrutinizing souls, who are never satisfied with simply minding their own business and have to stick their noses into others as well, learned, or rather, made sure to find out that Seor de Albornoz lived under the protective wing of a very robust, but not entirely unattractive, buxon widow, who was the proprietress of a boardinghouse frequented by thirdrate actors and actresses, for whom she had the pleasure to perform the same duties as they offer in the grand cultural centers of New York, especially when those friends were not mingling among the millionaires on Fifth Avenue, but preferred the company of boardinghouse keepers, usually adventurous old widows, without legacy or progeny. Which is not to say, of course, that Seor de Albornozs amiable friend found herself among the entourage of widows of a man with whom she had shared the delicacies of her nuptial bed in years past and had been laid down to rest in some cemetery, shrouded in the sepulcher of sweet oblivion; because, to be called a widow in the United States, one need not fulfill such a prerequisite: the issue is resolved in a less lugubrious and perhaps even less tragic fashiondivorce. The lady in question belonged to the prodigious hordes of divorcees; therefore, in accordance with the customs of this country, she proclaimed herself to be a widow, and it pleased her greatly, on the surface at least, to think of herself as such. Of course, the courts never officially granted her divorce; both husband and wife had the sound judgment to avoid such a scandal: it was a de facto divorce, mutually agreed upon by both parties as

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not to waste money on lawyers or attract the attention of the newspapers. They were two of a kindfor her part, she was too enamored of the conjugal union, both inside and outside of the domestic domain; while he, on the other hand, took special delight in stepping out all night, looking for the clandestine companionship found in the opposite sex, and if not for that, then because of his fondness for alcoholic beverageswhich resulted in the aforementioned divorce. Under the circumstances, it was not absolutely essential for the social bonds of civility to be entirely severed. So there was no notable objection to maintaining social appearances, insomuch as neither husband nor wife aspired to again make use of the churchs services, for in such cases this kind of arrangement is not only convenient but also demonstrates great philosophical depth and prudence on the part of those who conduct themselves in such a manner. And this is why no one found it strange that once or twice a month, Mr. James Austin, the boardinghouse keepers ex-husband, would call upon Seor de Albornozs amiable friend, Mrs. Agnes Long, Austins ex-wife. Of course, such visits were purely social in nature, as one would expect. However, the lady was not always disposed to receive her guest; and on such occasions, which constituted the majority, Don Cesreo, a courteous and attentive person, served as substitute in her absence. And like two merry old chums, discussing whatever came to mind, they would spend more or less half an hour in somnolent conversation, at the end of which Mr. Austin would affix his top hat, extend his arm, and violently shake hands with Don Cesreo. Then he would find his way to the front door, after having it shown to him, and he would make certain that Don Cesreo would pass on his proper respects to the lady of the house. The truth is, however, to give constancy to the rumors that circulated with respect to Seor de Albornozs intimate relations with the esteemed Mrs. Long, these suggestions could all very well be the mere spawn of slander and jealousy, those unyielding enemies of honorable virtues, moral conduct, and noble character. The day after Lucas arrived, Seor de Albornoz received the letter which Lucas had delivered. Without wasting any time whatsoever, and since his diurnal occupations allowed him to do anything he pleased in order to attend to his social obligations, he hastened to the hotel to place himself at the service of the new arrival. Don Cesreo, under certain circumstances, could be very debonair:

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like his fellow countrymen, he enjoyed putting on airs of importance in front of people who were not yet personally acquainted with him. Hence, his behavior before the poor young man may have seemed somewhat melodramatic, and the pleasantries and other customary displays which prevail during the first few moments on such occasions were set aside to give way to one extremely exaggerated and comically ceremonious embrace. Seor de Albornoz spoke with a certain ease, one could almost say even with a particular eloquence. After having asked Lucas the usual questions: When did you arrive?; Did you have a nice trip?; How do you like New York?; etcetera, etcetera, he thought it opportune to give him a general idea of how he himself had come to live there. He told Lucas about the Trusts (monopolies), about automobiles, the technological advances in electricity, airplanes, American architecture, the Brooklyn Bridge, and about many other such trifles, sprinkling the conversation with a few words of English; for, as he often demonstrated, he was beginning to forget his own language. Nevertheless, it goes without saying that, given such forgetfulness, he had not attained an appreciable command of the language of Shakespeare either. Lucas, who had not once interrupted Don Cesreos diatribe, appeared to be the spitting image of the Sphinx, for he had not even blinked. For him, at that moment, Don Cesreo de Albornoz represented the highest plateau of human enlightenment, and without any hesitation whatsoever, he placed in his mind the name of Don Cesreo, this anonymous national hero, among the other national heroes who, in an anonymous state as well, remained enveloped in the national consciousness, and whose lauded names have rung like thunderous applause in the ears of the people of Santa Catalina. The visit lasted for more than two hours. However, before drawing their conversation to a close, Don Cesreo thought it prudent to give the young man a few lessons about personal care, emphasizing first that, if he did not already have one, he should furnish himself with an overcoat as soon as possible, because the changes in weather in New York City could be extremely hazardous to foreigners. And since Lucas was in fact not suited for the bitter gusts of wind that blew there, conquering his natural modesty, he ventured to ask his compatriot to tell him where he might find the necessary article of clothing, provided of course that it would be at an affordable price, because the financial resources which they had allocated to him for this purpose in Santa Catalina were quite limited.

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Oh! Theres no one better than myself, exclaimed Don Cesreo immediately, to provide you with such a service. Come with me, if thats what youre really looking for. Well find everything you need right around here. And its imperative that you do so right away, because no one is immune to catching pneumonia. Come, come with me. And I assure you that it will be an absolute pleasure for me to be of service to you in any possible way. Thank you very much, replied Lucas. And he automatically made his way to the hotel door following behind Don Cesreo. But no sooner had their feet hit the sidewalk than they found themselves suddenly in a tet-a-tet with the hotel concierge. What? Are you going somewhere? asked the hotel representative. Yes, sir, answered the young man. Im going with this gentleman to buy an overcoat and a few other necessities. An unexpected slap in the face would have left a less ungracious impression on the concierge, for his most cherished dreams were suddenly dashed to pieces as soon as that inhuman intruder arrived on the scene to provide him with some competition. But, but . . . stammered the hotel representative, directing his comments to Don Cesreo, you neednt trouble yourself, sir. It would be my pleasure to accompany Mr. Guevara, as I am certain you have other matters to attend to and . . . Oh, no! interrupted Seor de Albornoz, a veteran of these kinds of proceedings. This young man comes from a family which I love like my very own, and in no way would I deprive myself of the satisfaction of serving him in any and every way possible. Were very grateful to you for your good intentions, and rest assured that little Lucas will make use of them whenever I am not around. And bidding him a very fond adieu, Don Cesreo took hold of Lucass arm, and they left the hotel. The concierge made a lengthy and acrimoniously uncouth glare aimed right at Seor de Albornoz; and like Lots wife, who was transformed into a pillar of salt, he stood in the doorway like a statue and did not move from his place until Don Cesreo and Lucas had turned the corner. Seor de Albornoz took advantage of the opportunity to explain to his companion the tricks of the trade employed by the hotel representatives in order to exploit their guests. You see, he told him, that man, for example, would have taken you to a store and claimed a commission from the owner on everything that you

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bought there. And, naturally, the shopkeeper would have sold you the merchandise at a higher price in order to compensate for his commission. This is precisely what I had hoped to avoid. Why should you have to pay more for what you could get for less? Don Cesreo continued his lengthy dissertation with regard to this topic, and would have continued further had they not first arrived at the store. This particular establishment was situated in the neighborhood known as the Bowery, that is, in the middle of the district where the children of Israel who do not belong to the Hebrew aristocracy amass their fortunes, and where, according to what the chronicles say, it is not prudent to go out at night for the risk which the tourist runs of finding himself missing a watch or wallet when he least expects it.

IV
If not the first, then one of the first places mentioned to the uninitiated when coming to New York City is the Bowery. The Bowery is the name of one of the neighborhoods in great Gotham, understood to be on the Lower East Side bound by the Brooklyn Bridge and Eighth Street, that is to say, constituting a span of nearly two miles in length. The Bowery is really a commercial district, but, at the same time, it is an area where hundreds of families seek refuge or asylum, some directly or indirectly related to the merchants who have established their businesses on the ground floors of the buildings, while others agglomerate in those singular constructions known as tenement houses, which have achieved one of the centurys greatest feats: the enslavement of freedom or vice versa. The Bowery is a cosmopolitan community to the utmost. To provide it with its own characteristic vitality and flavor, it draws from the large Chinese sector that populates Mott Street and from the most eccentric models of the Hebrew race; in addition, among the former and the latter, there are subjects of every monarchy and citizens of every democracy in the world. If some Machiavellian or ridiculous fop appears on the city streets, one can trace his origins to the Bowerys vicinities; if a heinous crime is com21

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mitted, it is more than likely that at least one of the accomplices pertains to the hierarchy of the Bowerys denizens; if one wishes to find cheap merchandisealmost always of the most wretched qualitythe citys cicerones will recommend that one peruse the Bowery; if an unlucky soul has only a few bits to attend to lifes basic necessities, the Bowery offers him room and board at a level commensurate to his economic stature: living quarters with all of the distinctive features befitting a beggar, and sustenance, which although it is the concomitants of chemical concoctions and residuum from gastronomic institutions, is only of the highest caliber; if one speaks of the daughters of Eve condemned to the four walls of a jail cell by the polices divine providence, one would not be mistaken assuming that they are the Bowerys own tempting sirens; if one solicits a tightfisted Pharisee or savvy loan shark, they can be found by the hundreds in the Bowery; if one is in search of the comic, the dramatic, or even the tragic, between the Bowerys cross streets and cross hairs one can light upon the merry Andrew who pesters with all of his drunken pleas, down to the pauper who drives people mad with all of his pan handling. Charlatans live there, having purchased for a miserly sum the right to place a plaque in their office window advertising the practice of their medical profession; there are the worst sorts of wretches to be found there, from those who entrust themselves to looking for young brides, then availing themselves to a thousand stratagems in order to break up happy homes, up to those who, without any scruples whatsoever, would send their own family members to prison for the right price; there are apothecaries who, without batting an eyelash, would sell all manner of pharmaceuticals and would not hesitate to perform illegal obstetric operations in the backrooms of their drugstores; there are hotels which hire out beds to those corrupt of body and soul, upon whose straw mattresses, rarely ventilated or ever tidied, have sprawled out consummate drunks, consumptive fools, scrofulous syphilitics and herpetics; and, during the day, they practice their right to make themselves at home in a hotel lobby, chatting or snoring away, smoking a pipe or reading lascivious magazines; treachery, deception, gambling, greed, and the premeditation of crime have all found their place in the Bowery. In the end, the Bowery is a place universally feared, but at the same time, regarded by everyone with a natural curiosity. It is a two-faced coin: one which shows certain features during the day, but a totally different side at night.

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It is a neighborhood which never rests; everyone works while the sun still shines, but no one sleeps under the cover of night. One can feel the heat of the feverish marketplace from dawn until the last bloody tinge of dusk. All of the devices of progress and ambition come into play: the buyer must match wits with the vendor; like two adversaries who show mutual respect upon encountering one another, they inspect each other from head to toe; they evaluate and analyze each other, then prepare to thrust and parry. The consumer is almost always bound to lose, for it is impossible to compete with such an entrenched opponent capable of such a powerful attack. Foreigners who stroll the streets of the Bowery seem to have their nationality painted across their faces; and, for as forewarned and intelligent as they may be, they are doomed to succumb. They may be able to prevent the countless tugs at their shirts and clever tricks to subdue them, but they will never be able to make it out of the Bowery with their wallets left unscathed. For if they do not fall at the hands of the daring charlatans who bewitch and beguile, it is difficult to escape from the despicable women of ill repute or the pickpockets who inundate the sidewalks and populate the bars. The merchants begin to cloud ones vision and test ones mettle and innocence by promising the best prices on the countless goods that they exhibit in their shop windows. The unwary becomes enraptured with the display model; he inspects it; he compares it to similar items he has seen in the Broadway and Sixth Avenue boutiques; and he discovers that they are exactly alike, but with the added bonus that in the Bowery they can be purchased for a fraction of the original price. He enters the store; he inquires about the merchandise; five or six salesmen surround the client; they inform him that, regrettably, they have just sold the last remaining model a moment ago and that they could not possibly hand over the one on display; however, they compel the customer to wade through a thousand other items, until he becomes so flabbergasted, that, in a fit of exasperation, he escapes further torture by purchasing his surrendered freedom for its weight in gold. And that is how they live in the Bowery: at the expense of the impotence of the hapless souls who frequent the vicinity and who, when they least expect it, are humiliated and defeated after an intense battle with the swarm of swindlers who, for some incomprehensible reason, enjoy the benefits which the Uniform Commercial Code bestows upon these so-called businessmen of the most contestable moral character. However, the comedy of errors which makes up the Bowery in broad daylight cannot be com-

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pared in any way to the scenes which, in constant procession, cloak themselves under the dark canopy of night. The little playhouses, which cost between ten to fifteen cents to enter, become saturated with spectators. Situated around vile little tables, with foul-smelling pipes stuffed full of Virginia tobacco and enormous pitchers of beer in front of them, half-dazed workers mingle with thrill seekers, petty larcenists, audacious gents, and in the end, an army of unsavory individuals: magnificent models for artistic study, with flared nostrils, disheveled hair and beards, eyes that inspire fear, and mouths invigorated by contemptuous grins. And like nocturnal butterflies that flutter one by one around the light, those fiendish ladies of the night, the dregs of a social vice driven from the large civic centers onto the sordid alleyways, teem in these smoke-filled saloons, satisfying themselves by catching an immodest stare over here, a sip of beer or a shot of whiskey over there, and broken promises everywhere. On stage, the dancers make all manner of pirouettes; the songbirds sing more and more off-key; and the comedians lower themselves to performing the most obnoxious and vulgar routines. Cultural centers display gigantic posters smeared by shady artists in the doorway, hoping to pique the tourists curiosity about what surprises they might find inside: but it so happens that these surprises do not exist; and if a curious sightseer, injured or angered by the loss of money and the indignation he has suffered, ventures to register any form of complaint, the owner will invite him to take a walk down to the end of a dark alley, where he is sure to find what he is looking for; this is a situation which sound judgment will naturally avoid; so, the visitor is left with no other recourse than to retreat and be content to return to contemplate the cartoonlike pictures decorating the theatres entrance. Assuming meditative postures or engaging in loquacious prattle with their elbows on the bar, many of the infallible patrons of those establishments, if they are not all unable to take a step without the support of another sauced companion, contrary to the standards of proper etiquette, do not give the waitresses a moments rest; they make use of special entrances for courtesans into these little public houses, and, while separated from one another by thin partitions, they answer to the ding-a-ling-a-ling of the glasses they refill with expressions of carnal knowledge and prolonged, sonorous kisses. And out in the streets, the human harum-scarum ebbs and flows with nervous anticipation; squadrons of irreverent Romeos and alluring Juliets can be seen; the ambulatory and servile businesswomen of

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smoke-filled halls exhort dinner companions; stalwart Dionysiacs make their way through the multitude, which spreads itself across both sides of the sidewalk, and direct discourteous gallantries toward the women they encounter; professional beggars with mellifluent voices and pitiful miens fall upon the passersby once they discover that they are foreigners, and they begin to ask for spare change and end up with a fistful of pennies; the police redouble their vigilance as the burglars take audacity to new extremes; and then there are the young, the old, and the children: the elderly remembering the good old days when so much debauchery did not exist, the youth walking down the path to the penitentiary or to the hospital, and the children learning what they should never have known. And at every moment, on every street corner, sidestepping the light of the street lamps, a man confirms a meeting settled upon by way of a glance which he came across a few moments before; the pair of lovebirds then sallies forth from their cache and is lost in the crowd directing their steps to the first hovel they see, in whose main lobby the hotel manager asks the transitory guests to sign their names into a registry as husband and wife, which is required by law, to perform acts which the same law prohibits. And down the poorly lit hallways of these establishments, the couples who enter rub elbows with those who are leaving; the hotel bellhops who are responding to the guests requests crisscross with those who have just furnished beverages to the other inhabitants of those god-forsaken bedrooms; the proprietor runs up and down the stairs pacifying excitable tempers and playing the role of referee during any bouts; there is no shortage of clients who leave swearing for having seen their dreams shattered and worrying at the thought of being compelled to later solicit therapeutic instructions from some druggist; and if, by chance, a moment of peace and quiet were to prevail, one could hear the indecipherable whispers and suspicious noises coming from inside the hotel rooms themselves. As a compliment to everything else, like a carnival explosion, one must suffer the endless departures of the elevated railroad, which extends to each of the citys extremities; the vibrant echo of the warning bells and whistles of the railcars storming off in opposite directions crammed full of passengers, many of whom have their arms affectionately wrapped around the figures of their adjacent sweethearts with their heads languishing on their shoulders while they snore sweetly to the side with exhausted cigarettes imprisoned between their lips and crumpled newspapers drooping over

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their laps; laborers who return from work or from the bar are not bothered by witnessing these saucy groups of lovers in nearby seats, so close that their whispered words cannot be heard but can easily be guessed; and as an accompaniment to all the commotion, there are teamsters who curse and scream, cars piling up in traffic, fire engines hastening to put out the blazes ignited by some criminal hand or originated in some moment of carelessness; and, finally, there are the organ barrels of traveling musicians who, with the greatest indiscretion, butcher and even rape works of opera like Trovador, Traviata, Rigoletto, and La Fille de Madame Angot. The night hours move on but the Bowery does not sleep. Tumultuous, shameless, maddening, it awaits the first lights of morning to dispel the last shadows of night so that the unbridled orgy may once again give way to unrestricted gambling and usury.

V
Following the example set by the one who appeared to be the store owner, various salesmen fell upon new customers like an avalanche before they had even made up their minds to enter the store; and practically pushing and shoving them through the door, the merchants ushered their new clients to a great big table upon which were heaped dozens of articles of clothing of every cut, color, and condition; as a result, it was impossible for the perspective new patrons needs to go unattended to by those savvy industry veterans. Don Cesreo, generally regarded for his relative acquaintance with the English language, before assuming the role of interpreter, made sure to specify the amount of commission that he would draw from the business which he had brought to the establishment; and once the particulars had been settled upon with one of the vendors, they proceeded to browse. Before you get anything else, you need to buy an overcoat, indicated Seor de Albornoz. Following his lead, the salesman declared that the winter chill would be close at hand; and, since the suit which the young man was wearing would not be adequate for the season, it would be necessary for him to furnish himself with a more appropriate one; otherwise, besides the danger of taking ill by wearing such threadbare clothing, he would also run the risk of being
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caught in dire straits to supply himself with a heavier coat later when everyone else would be buying them. Don Cesreo found the vendors observations to be keen; and, with some judicious argumentation of his own, they thought they had Lucas with his back up against the wall. However, once informed of the prices, the young fellow, amused by all the deliberations, made a few mental calculations, adding and subtracting the sums in his head; as for the matter of interests, the native son of Santa Catalina knew much more than Seor de Albornoz had previously imagined. So, although the salesman had bent over backwards prevailing upon his new clients, espousing the first suit and the first overcoat which they picked out from the pile and tried on as the ones which fit as if they were tailormade, Lucass common sense and Don Cesreos own fashion sense clashed with such impositions. They were not able to reach any sort of agreement until ferreting out the articles of clothing which, after a great deal of searching and researching, sizing and resizing, appeared to satisfy the young mans bare necessities. Don Cesreo, aware of the merchants previous suggestions and of various other considerations as well, recommended that Lucas also purchase a hat, spats, shirts, undergarments, etcetera, etcetera, but the young man protested vehemently against such propositions. The moment then arrived to pay for the selected merchandise. Lucas, upon hearing from Don Cesreos own mouth what he had more or less already understood, began to frown and demanded that Don Cesreo ask for a reduction in the price, but Seor de Albornoz hastened to demonstrate to him that the prices were fixed and that the ritual of bartering was not practiced in this country. The young fellow became quite distraught, and there was a moment when he was on the brink of revoking the entire transaction; that is to say, he thought about stripping off all the new trappings he wore and sallying forth with his old vestments until he came across another store where they would give him a discount; because, according to what was generally believed in Santa Catalina, everything in the United States was practically free, thanks to the enormous discounts for exportation which were created for consumers just like Lucas. It cost Don Cesreo a great deal of work and no small amount of sweat to convince Lucas not to make a scene. The young man turned it over and over again in his head, and minutes passed without coming to any sort of resolution. The salesman clenched his fists feeling a profound sense of indignation; Seor de Albornoz continued to sweat and gulp down his own saliva;

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the other vendors cast curious and astonished glances at the group; and the store owner himself, observing what was taking place, strained his neck and, over the top of the spectacles which clung to the tip of his nose, he emitted rays from his scathing, angry eyes that would have charred those of Lucas Guevara and Don Cesreo de Albornoz. Lucas finally made an executive decision. From the pants pocket of his old suit, whose vestiges he still held under his left arm and pressed against his stomach, the young man pulled out a green silk coin purse with silver rings; he carefully untied the knot which he had made and let four gold coins pour into the palm of his hand. He counted and recounted the coins many times before handing them over to the salesman. Don Cesreo asked Lucas if he wanted for them to deliver the suit which he had just removed to the boardinghouse, but Lucas said no; he preferred for them to place it in wrapping paper so that he could carry it himself, because it would be safer that way. The transaction thus completed, they took their leave of the establishment. But just a few steps out the door, Seor de Albornoz, alleging whatever pretext he could invent at the time, asked his young companion to wait a moment. He reentered the store, consulted with the owner, claimed his stipulated and warranted commission, then carefully stashed it away, taking his time before reuniting with Lucas, whom he found engrossed in the contemplation of a storefront window displaying overcoats, suits, etcetera, with their prices clearly marked on white tags with large black numerals. Sir, look, exclaimed the young man upon seeing Don Cesreo. Everything is much less expensive here. Wouldnt it be better for us to return these clothes and purchase the things that I need from this store? He looked at the suit he was wearing over and over again, comparing it to the one in the display case. He made his mental calculations again and again. Then, like a wave of discord and desperation, frustration washed over his countenance. I dont understand, he insisted. Why wouldnt they discount anything for us? In Santa Catalina no one buys anything for the asking price. Itd be a good idea for us to go back to that store again and for you to make them give us our money back. Because I think itd be better for us to buy my things here instead. Seor de Albornoz very nearly lost his head and blew his top, but discretion, which is the better part of valor, as they say, restrained the eruption

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of his anger and permitted him to proceed to more persuasive explanations, which must have carried a great deal of weight, because Lucas ended up accepting them and abandoned his impetuous plan. It was time for lunch when they returned to the hotel. So Don Cesreo thought it convenient to invite himself to eat. No sooner did he stuff his belly with an appetite that would do a Dominican priest after High Mass proud than he promised Lucas that he would return to call for him the following day at precisely nine oclock in the morning in order to take the necessary steps to secure a school and lodging for him which might better suit the scholars needs and budget. He enthusiastically shook hands with his young friend, then took his leave of the hotel with a majestic air. Don Cesreo had hardly left when the aforementioned hotel concierge, who was eavesdropping on their conversation, approached Lucas. He meticulously examined the clothing. Then he inquired as to the amount which Lucas had paid. And once his requests for information were satisfied, he screamed with an accent revealing his deepest enmity. This is an outrage! They robbed you blind! I cant believe the rubbish they sold you. It isnt worth half of what you paid for it. I knew this would happen. This is what happens when you put yourself in the hands of good-for-nothing ignoramuses, who are just out to make a commission. Then the incensed concierge, turning his back on the young man, left him alone in the hallway of the hotel submerged in his own agonizing and heartfelt deliberations.

VI
The chronometer in the slovenly Hotel Norte Americano office showed nine in the morning when Don Cesreo de Albornoz darkened the hotel doorstep. As soon as he was informed that Lucas could be found eating breakfast in the dining room, he directed his steps to the indicated location. After exchanging the customary salutations, his appetite became aroused by the hotels distinctively aromatic cuisine; and, no doubt, he thought it convenient to take advantage of this opportunity to indulge himself in a beefsteak, a healthy portion of fried eggs, and a cup of coffee, a whim which would naturally be charged to Lucas Guevaras escalating hotel bill.
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Having dispatched with his morning meal and having no other reason to remain in the dining room, Seor de Albornoz explained to his young friend that it was imperative to make good use of time, for the distances in New York City were quite extensive, indeed and, before you knew it, the day would already be coming to an end. A little while later, Don Cesreo and Lucas stopped in front of a house marked *** on the east side of Ninth Street. At the sound of a bell, the door opened, and upon meeting with her visitors, Madame Bonfati, the proprietress of the boardinghouse, introduced herself. But, judging from what one could readily see, she had known Seor de Albornoz for some time now. It is the first time my young friend Lucas here is separated from the maternal embrace, Don Cesreo said, directing his comments to Madame Bonfati. His parents have entrusted me to keep him on the straight and narrow and assist him with the education that hell be receiving in this country. They asked me to find a room in a boardinghouse where he wont have to go without the warmth and comforts of home and that would offer him the advantage of being inexpensive at the same time. I am thoroughly convinced that theres no better place he could find himself than by your side. And, therefore, I would like to know under what conditions youd be willing to receive him and what sort of accommodations youd be able to afford him. Melting like butter and pouring over them with her affections, the owner of the boardinghouse expressed, in the most butchered Spanish the human tongue can articulate, more or less, the following terms: Oh! S, seor, the young man will find whatever he needs here. And those in this house will attest to how joyously contented they are to live here. For five and a half dollars a week, I can provide him with three meals a day and a sufficiently comfortable room. Will you discount the price on the days that I dont eat here? inquired Lucas with a certain trepidation. Those arent the rules of this house, replied the landlady, nor is it the custom in New York City. Well, then, responded Lucas, I guess we dont have a deal. At this point, Don Cesreo thought it prudent to intervene, and he tried all possible means to convince the young fellow to reconsider. But this time Lucass resolve turned the tables with regard to the matter, and he had the

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terms amended to his satisfaction. To lose such a client, Mrs. Bonfati thought to herself, when competition among boardinghouses in New York was so fierce, would be an inexcusable blunder; and so, that is how, after some grumbling, mental calculations, and verbal commentary, she finally gave in to the stipulationunder the condition sine qua non that this special arrangement would be treated as if spoken under the seal of confessionthat she would lower his rent by fifteen cents, and even then only if said concession would be limited to Sundays and other holidays. After mutually agreeing upon the terms of their arrangement, the proprietress having addressed all of Lucass objections during the painstaking negotiations, and after a thorough inspection of the room, the quality of the food, the accommodations he would be enjoying while living in the house, etcetera, etcetera, it was resolved that the new tenant would begin to delight in the delicacies offered by the boardinghouse beginning that very afternoon. Once on the street, Don Cesreo came to the conclusion that, since lunchtime was drawing near, conventional wisdom dictated for them to return to the hotel in order to arrange for the transfer of Lucass luggage. Without stopping along the way, save for a few brief moments to make manifest his knowledge of the city to Lucas when in the presence of some building the young man observed with particular interest or when coming across some other detail worthy of mention, they made no delay in finding themselves sitting across from each other at a table in the hotel dining room, giving their respective orders to the waitress so that she might attend to their gastronomical necessities. It goes without saying that Don Cesreo really had not been formally invited by Lucas. But how could he forswear such a simple question of etiquette, being accustomed to life in New York City, after all, where with certain people and under certain circumstances such small gestures are customary? Once they had finished lunch and notified the hotel manager of Lucass departure, the innkeeper opened the dreaded guest book in which they record, with a four-pronged pitchfork instead of a pen, the entries of expenditures incurred by each guest. The moment of truth had arrived. They were going to calculate the various items constituting Lucas Guevaras bill: two nights of lodging plus

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meals up to that moment, according to hotel regulations. But, the summation did not end there. . . . They continued with the following additional charges: an express cart from the pier to the hotel for the transportation of luggage; travel expenses for both hotel guest and concierge (this charge was not itemized, but the total gave one the impression that, instead of making use of the usual modes of transportation, they had chartered automobiles or a carriage with three teams of horses); time dedicated for the concierge to be at Lucass beck and call, charged at an hourly rate, of course; an extra breakfast, lunch, and dinner; the cost of moving his luggage from the hotel to his new residence on Ninth Street; plus all the extras; amounting to a little more than double the daily rate for his room, the reasonableness of which was proclaimed by all of the tour guides and advertised in all of the newspapers and everywhere else. From these advertisements yielding such results, the innkeeper reveled in these ingenious inventions to establish the practical and mathematical foundations of how to build a better mousetrap. When he saw the grand total on the bill a chill ran down Lucass spine, making his limbs tremble and draining the color from the tanned skin of his face. He wanted to object, but he was left dumbfounded, and the few words he could utter were drowned out by the hotel managers cajolery, who as a precautionary measure in all critical situations, succeeded in sealing the deal with a handshake, as they say on the street. Then wrapping his arm around Lucass neck and giving him a hearty embrace, the mellifluent innkeeper exclaimed, Im so sorry that you have to leave, sonny-boy! (The lack of formality was commonplace for this hotel keeper, and not even a sovereign being a sovereign, nor a proletariat being a proletariat, would be free of his taking such liberties.) But, he added, colleges and hotel living simply are not compatible. Youll soon see the truth in that. In just a few days, youll begin to feel right at home here in New York City. And your father will feel completely at ease when he discovers that you stayed at the Hotel Norte Americano, because hell be sure that you didnt get stiffed for being a greenhorn. I wish you all the luck in the world, kid. Make sure to come back and see us some time. And dont forget to recommend our establishment to your friends whenever you can. And giving the young man a little pat on the back, he freed Lucas so that he could remove the characteristic silk coin purse from his pants pocket, from which he let a few gold and silver coins pour out onto

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the countertop in fulfillment of that cancerous innkeepers obligation. Thus, the Hotel Norte Americano could count on one fewer customer . . .

VII
At six-thirty in the afternoon on the same day that Lucas moved out of the hotel, he entered the boardinghouse dining room for the first time escorted by Madame Bonfati. At that time, all seven of the boardinghouse residents occupied their respective places around the table. While the soup was still on its way, they staved off their hunger by devouring the few crusts of bread allotted them. Lucass presence, in spite of the introduction made by the aforementioned proprietress, did not arouse much interest in the other tenants. She assigned Lucas to a seat between a pair of proud young ladies, who at first glance appeared to be red-blooded Americans: one was quite pudgy and had the face of a bulldog, the other, though not entirely pleasant to look at, was considerably less fleshy, but she did have a more prominent nose. The former worked as a seamstress, and the latter occupied the position of secretary for a Bible distribution company. At one of the heads of the table, with his beard crammed into the crease of a napkin he had wrapped around his collar like a scarf, peered out the jittery, piercing, beady little eyes of a diminutive old man now well advanced in his years, and whose physiognomy indicated that he contained a good dose of Hebrew blood. This personage, who stared obliquely into space, did not say a single word and confined himself to simply gobbling down his food like a rabid rabbi. He was the owner of a small business from whose door hung three large gilded spheres indicating that he paid cash for
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pawned items. To his right sat a probable maiden, twenty-three to twentyfive years old, with a blanched complexion, blue eyes, and blonde but hirsute hair, who earned her daily bread by keeping the books for a nearby bakery. Occupying the seat next to the maiden was a strapping young man, twenty-six to twenty-eight years old, tall, big nosedlike the young lady sitting in front of himand whose loquacity was enough to prevent the other guests at the table from getting a word in edgewise. This individual, who was affectionately known as Bob by the other tenants, and whose occupation was entirely unknown, lived in the boardinghouse with his mother, one of those shriveled up and melancholy-looking old people, whose cranial rotundity was covered by a wig seemingly glued to her temples by some kind of paste, hiding two-thirds of her ears. Spectacles with imitation tortoise-shell frames hung from the tip of her nose; at the slightest movement of her lips, one could see her single large, yellow tooth sticking out from her gums. This dear old lady sat next to Bob. Finally, at the other head of the table sat Mr. Bonfati, the proprietresss husband, Italian by birth, and who, in spite of his lengthy residence in the United States, could barely utter a few phrases in the countrys official language. He liked to think of himself as a painter and a musician, but he had such poor luck, or he was so miserably misunderstood, that his artistic talents had not enabled him to win fame or fortune, and he solved the problem of daily survival by obliging his wife to work, while he ate, slept, read the Italian dailies, and dedicated himself to a thorough investigation of modern socialism, interpreted by him to be a sort of moderate anarchy. Such was the social sphere in which Lucas Guevara would circulate. The boardinghouse residents cast a look, half indifferent, half scrutinizing, at the new arrival as soon as he took the seat Madame Bonfati had assigned to him. But their curiosity went no further than that, perhaps because Lucas Guevaras presence held very little significance for them, or simply because, in order to satisfy their appetites, a buxom Irish woman who served the meals began to pass out steaming bowls of odoriferous soup to each guest seated at the table. As supper was drawing to a close, Bobs usual imperturbable prattle was further stimulated when, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he ventured to ask a few questions of Lucas. Madame Bonfati, who was still in the dining room at that time, explained to Bob that the new tenant did not speak any English; this revelation produced a tremendous amount of astonishment and consternation among those present. The two young ladies sitting on either side of him spun

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majestically around in their chairs on their respective posteriors, like one who is only half-interested; with particular insistency, they gawked at the young man, as if asking themselves: What sort of creature is this? One of the ladies had the unmitigated audacity to turn her head and look behind Lucas, as if trying to convince herself that he was not afflicted by a prolongation of the coxal appendage. The pawnbroker removed the napkin from around his neck. He also regarded Lucas very closely; and convinced, no doubt, that the boy would never come to figure among the number of his clients, he returned to relishing the last remaining scraps of his dinner. The young bookkeepers eyes opened wide and she remained in a state of shock. Bobs mother opened her mouth and showed her solitary tooth in all its protracted splendor. Mr. Bonfati was the only one who appeared to be unmoved. Then what language does he speak? asked Bob. Spanish, replied the madame. Spanish!!! exclaimed those present in unison. Yes, indeed, added Madame Bonfati. This young man is originally from the Republic of ***. Ohhh! said the Bible lady. Ahhhhh! murmured the seamstress. And exactly where is this country? inquired Bob. There was general confusion and silence, as the boardinghouse residents knowledge of geography was insufficient to clarify the matter. Madame, since you speak Spanish so well, would you mind asking him for us? suggested Bob. And Madame Bonfati did not make them ask her twice. Lucas, who understood quite clearly that those exclamations, gesticulations, and declarations were all in relation to him, began to feel a bit nervous and somewhat embarrassed. But when he heard the interpreter ask him that unforgivable question, a sort of tidal wave of stupefaction and indignation coursed through his veins. He looked from side to side, as if he could not or would not believe that such ignorance truly existed, for it was impossible for him to imagine that in the United States, and in a boardinghouse in particular, the name of his native country did not resound at every moment like a clap of thunder; that the name of the place where the spire stood atop the steeple tower on the Church of Santa Catalina would be unfamiliar to them; and, above all, that the eardrums of the universe would grow old without ringing with the praises of fame and glory for his countrys national heroes, distinguished in politics, literature, military science, etcetera, especially with such grand emulators and representatives of the likes of Don Arnulfo Jimeno

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and Don Cesreo de Albornoz living in New York City itself. Inspired by the love for his country that had been so brazenly disgraced, Lucas provided them with whatever information he could salvage from the little store of knowledge left in the repository of his memory regarding his nations history. All of this information, translated by Madame Bonfati for his audience, gave occasion for her husband to break the silence he had guarded up to that moment. In Italianized English, or rather, in Anglicized Italian, he formulated a brilliant thesis concerning the lengths to which the countries of Hispano-America have gone to open themselves up to socialist doctrines. The Bible lady, her religious sentiments aroused, emphatically protested against such an outrage; her objection was seconded by the pawnbroker; the bakery accountant rose from her seat and left the dining room; the seamstress and Bobs mother remained neutral; Madame Bonfati appeared to be speaking to herself when she said, Socialism exists here in this very house! It sleeps with me and I am its victim. Only big-mouth Bob applauded each of Mr. Bonfatis absurdities with both hands and feet, especially when he made reference to the dreadful way wealth was to be distributed equally among the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve. Had it not been for the fact that the critic of socialist doctrines was left with no other audience than that of Bob and Lucas, who knew not which road to take nor how to make a clever escape, his passionate and eloquent dissertation would have lasted all night long.

VIII
As if by way of virtually involuntary motion, Lucas left the dining room and feebly mounted the stairs while buttressing himself on the banister. Once he reached his dormitory, he closed the door behind him and sat down at the edge of his bed. His ruminations, running hither and thither in his mind, collided en masse. He reminisced about his past, from whence swelled yonder fetor of ferns, of which the poets spoke; his thoughts returned to the Santa Catalina countryside, where he pictured the silhouette of a fair maiden who helped with the household chores, and who, on more than one occasion, under the friendly shade of the barnyards adobe walls, had permitted him to gaze upon and even touch, up to a certain point of modesty, the difference between the male and female genders of the human species. It seemed to him as though he could hear the inharmonious clucking of his favorite hens and listen to the long, deep baritone notes of his braying, ashen quadruped which served as his means of transportation between Don Andrs coffee plantation and the town of Santa Catalina. He thought he could discern the high-pitched voice of the parish priest, at whose masses he would frequently serve as altar boy, and to whom he had confessed his very first sins, and against whose Christian virtues the ever-seditious
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tongues of the parishioners had never cast too sharp a barb, for everyone was convinced that his simple, pastoral life was without more blemishif one could even call such slight shortcomings a blemishthan being a tad bit over zealous and overly affectionate with his sisters in Christ; one in particular with whom he was extremely familiar was Seora Juliana, the selfabdicating and faithful keeper of her husbands domestic hearth; not to mention the fact that the priest was a grand connoisseur and patron of the national beverage and often partook of the same wine which they set aside for Holy Communion. Lucas failed to comprehend all that he had seen in New York City. He believed that everything had been an incredible dream, or perhaps, a nightmare created by his own delusional mind. Don Cesreo de Albornoz appeared to the boy to be some manner of mythical being; Seor Jimeno inspired in him a certain wonder, with his crabby and insolent little figure; the Hotel Norte Americano seemed to him to be like an enchanted castle. He placed his new friends in the boardinghouse among the highest rungs of society, and he thought Madame Bonfati to be a lady of grace and illustrious decency, the likes of whom are prominent in the fairy tales found in childrens books written with the purpose of inculcating the values of proper etiquette in the minds of young pupils. Between one reflection and the next, one memory and another, with trembling hands, he clutched onto his green silk coin purse, in whose extremities rested the last remaining coins he had received to attend to his initial expenditures, and upon which both the assiduous Don Cesreo and the sagacious hotel concierge from the Hotel Norte Americano had attempted their heroic onslaughts. The rising sun of a new day would have caught him in the exact same position with the exact same thoughts still passing through his head had Madame Bonfati not opened the door and entered Lucass room in an attempt to comply with the maternal duties she had taken upon herself, as well as to carry out her shrewd ploy to assure the young scholars continued consumption at her establishment. She indicated to Lucas that it was now time for him to go to bed; she showed him how to put out the gas lamp, for the good lady surely understood that he had never made use of those sorts of rudimentary methods of illumination in Santa Catalina; she informed him that breakfast would be served at eight oclock in the morning, then she wished him a very good night. From the small window which provided Lucass room fresh air and

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natural light, one could see the backsides of houses whose front doors faced Eighth Street, the majority of which were also boardinghouses and, therefore filled to the rafters with inhabitants of every age, class, and gender. Thanks to a peculiar sort of negligencewhich, as a general rule, is more frequent than necessary during the summer seasonmany of the tenants occupying the back rooms did not lower their Persian blinds, giving way for any inquisitive personage to catch a glimpse of no small smatterings of intimate scenes played out in those bedrooms when finding themselves in an analogous position to that presently occupied by Lucas. To Lucass utter astonishment and dismay, as soon as he had shut off the gas and found himself in the dark, he began to witness acts in the private lives of his neighbors across the alleyway from his own bedroom. There were moments when he felt a shuddering of shame, above all when some old buxom trollop or some Miss Unconventionality let carelessly and unscrupulously fall to the floor any and all articles of clothing she might have been wearing; and once completely divested of any vestment whatsoever, she stared at herself in front of the mirror in a variety of poses; or wholesome couples unburdened by the bonds of matrimony or any other less formal commitment, who, without turning the lights out completely, prepared themselves to perform the duties of the marriage sacrament; or half-naked little boys, who leapt from bed to bed and, heeding their mothers directions, would satisfy their most urgent bodily function with the sublime sans faon of youthful innocence to avoid any late night mishaps; or some rubicund or even anemic specimen of the stronger sex, enveloped in a dense cloud of cigar smoke, draining pitcher after pitcher of beer, until falling asleep in his chair or bursting out in some tempestuous rage; in a word, such indecent details occurring in the private lives of individuals or families who did not imagine or did not even care to imagine that indiscrete glances were spying upon their intimacies. Merciful sleep finally came over Lucass eyes after more than two hours of insomnia, suffering in the darkness and agitated by the infinitely impertinent bites of certain insects which generally choose to procreate and live the good life in the beds of second-rate hotels and almost every boardinghouse in New York City. At seven-thirty in the morning, Madame Bonfati played the role of alarm clock and pounded on the door of her new resident, who, a short while later, without having made use of the washbasin nor having given

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proper consideration to his manner of dress, probably because he was still unaccustomed to doing so, was prepared to make his presence at the breakfast table, not so much because of the deficiencies he had observed in the previous nights dinner, perhaps, but rather due to the fatigue caused by the copious bloodletting of which he was victim, and of which the multitude of violet splotches disseminated throughout the bedsheets and pillows bore powerful witness; not to mention the fact that there were no fewer number of welts covering his body and forcing him to make use of his fingernails with feverish tenacity. No one was in the dining room when Lucas entered, save for the Bible lady and Bobs withered-up old mother. They tranquilly gobbled down their respective meals without saying a word. The august silence reining over the table was interrupted only by the sounds of plates in the kitchen and the hearty snores of Mr. Bonfati, who slept in an adjacent parlor and whose socialist doctrines manifested to him that the most propitious hour to regale in a good, long sleep was interpreted to be between four in the morning and one or two in the afternoon. Then, at exactly nine oclock, with English promptitude, Seor de Albornoz came calling at the door of the boardinghouse.

IX
Don Cesreo did not thinkand he deliberated on the matter rather judiciouslythat Lucas should matriculate at any college yet, because, still unable to speak the language, it would be impossible for him to reap any benefit from the lessons he might receive. The most prudent and logical decision would be to begin by learning English, to which end he suggested that Lucas look for a professor, under whose tutelage he would dedicate himself body and soul for a period of approximately four to six months in order to study and practice the language; in addition, he would have to avoid any contact whatsoever with undesirables who might undo weeks worth of toil in just a few minutes of conversation. This plan, if carried out to the letter, might have seemed well-intentioned, but it was corrupt in one particular aspect: the idea that, in its execution, the selection of the instructor would be made by Don Cesreo, who, as one might assume, wished to be the person doing the choosing, and this choice would be certain to utilize the same criteria employed when selecting the boardinghouse. Don Cesreos friend, Mrs. Long, was the mother of William Roberts (something known to only a very select group of people), an individual between twenty-eight and thirty years of age and the fruit of the ladys first marriage to a schooner captain who routinely traveled between Cardiff and
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New York, and who had conveniently untied the marital knot months before William came into the world, inspired to do so, according to the very indiscrete people who spread the gossip in those days, due to the fact that he had discovered his new wife sharing their nuptial bed with another man to whom the ecclesiastical laws had not given authority to do so. And into the throngs of the heterogeneous vicissitudes of Bohemian life this child was born. But at the time when our story began, he was already fully grown and occupied the position of night watchman at a public school, an office which, in addition to providing him with the opportunity to get an education, also furnished him with a salary scarcely sufficient to maintain himself by eating like a bird and dressing like a vagabond. The relationship between William and his mother wanted for motherly affection, for more reasons than can be enumerated. But, if the truth be known, far from demeaning one another, they praised each other, and even exalted one another as far as young Roberts sentiments would permit. Even with Don Cesreo, relations could not have been better, for he honored William with his friendship like a good philosopher who believes that all human lifeeven that which appears to be worthlesscan be made useful. William, for his part, took advantage of their relationship to learn Spanish, in which he was quite interested, for he was once told that if he were able to acquire the language, he would have much better opportunities to attain more gainful employ. By virtue of Don Cesreos handiwork, William agreed to put aside two or three hours per day to provide Lucas Guevara with English lessons in exchange for a quite paltry pecuniary compensation, but, given his particular economic circumstances, it rained like manna from heaven upon his life of agonizing dearth and extreme poverty. Contrary to what one might assume, the tutor selected by Don Cesreo actually took his responsibilities as Lucass instructor very much to heart; and, even if it is true that Don Cesreo had no way of knowing, as he pretended to, the actual dividends of the service he had provided, that did not diminish the fact that Lucas did begin to reap some benefits from these lessons; for, at the end of a few weeks, he was already able to make use of a handful of phrases and he had even memorized a relatively extensive vocabulary. The seamstress who lived in the boardinghouse, as well as the bakery accountant and Bob the blabbermouth, all contributed in no insignificant

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way as a complement to his teachers efforts; even Madame Bonfati reveled in filling her educational quota, a favor which was truly unworthy of envy, for the Alsatian womans pronunciation, more than merely deplorable, was absolutely intolerable. Don Cesreo, who visited Lucas without fail on the last day of every month for the purpose of accompanying Guevara and personally bearing witness to the monthly allowance paid to him at the offices of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co., never faltered in his duty to offer Lucas to deposit the funds for him, in light of the risk Lucas might run of losing the money if he carried it with him; this was an offer which Lucas was always prudent enough to refuse, surmising that his money was safer in his own pocket. So once Don Cesreo was convinced that William was not going to pay him any commission from the salary he was receiving from Lucas as his language instructor, he made certain to insist on finding a new professor. But he was met with resistance in this case as well, for once William discovered Don Cesreos plot, he prepared himself to foil his scheme. Likewise, Lucas, in his turn, a bit more wary and somewhat less wet behind the ears, demanded to continue under the capable direction of his current instructor. These incidents caused the impugned Don Cesreo to feel his fondness for Lucas was beginning to wane; or, in other words, his willingness to comply with the previous arrangement at the recommendation of Dr. Galndez diminished by a perceivable degree, which was sure to please Lucas, who was growing tired of Seor de Albornozs paternal diatribes. It also pleased the proprietress of the boardinghouse, to whom Don Cesreo had charged a number of free breakfasts and lunches. Notwithstanding Seor de Albornozs aloofness, the epistolary correspondence between him, Dr. Galndez, and Don Andrswhich took on a character and form which will be seen latercontinued. Don Cesreo was extremely careful, for reasons of a personal nature, not to lead anyone to believe that the feelings of fatherly love which had existed between him and Lucas Guevara were beginning to fade.

X
The first few months Lucas spent in New York City passed by without incident worthy of mention. He regularly attended his English classes; he promptly went to receive his monthly pension from the offices of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co.of course, as was previously discussed, Seor de Albornoz always insisted on accompanying him on this errand. Heeding his dear mothers advice, Lucas attended mass every Sunday; he strengthened the bonds of friendship with the other residents of the boardinghouse, especially those he had with the young accountant, the seamstress, and Bob, who occasionally acted in Don Cesreos stead with various services; and, finally, he lived in perfect harmony with Madame Bonfati, following her directions and respecting her quasi-maternal exhortations. Lucas also made progress in his acquisition of the English language, and it gave him a great deal of satisfaction to be able to sprinkle a few phrases of English in the letters which he wrote to his parents, perhaps not always grammatically correct, but sufficiently enough to produce an electrifying effect in Santa Catalina; so much so that the extreme pride felt by his family was transmitted in the responses which Lucas received from Don
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Andrs, his mother, and his little brothers and sisters, as his family and friends all discovered a new universe filled with hopes and dreams based on his newly acquired education. In her written correspondence, Seor Guevaras adoring wife, carried away by her understandable motherly enthusiasm, prevailed upon him with statements like the following: I can just imagine how surprised everyone must be in New York to hear you speak English, We are so proud of your new talents, I would give my right arm to hear you speak English to the misius from over there, and other such sentiments, which were more eloquent, affectionate, and passionate than all of Lord Chesterfields epistles to his son combined. And as a complement to the words from his adoring parents, his siblings contributed other details worthy of mention. The mercantile exchange companymade up of commodities brokers, importers, exporters, and bankerswhich is how it read at the top of the letterhead which the gentlemen of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co. used for their official correspondence, replied, as one might imagine, to the letter of introduction Dr. Galndez had addressed to his associate Seor Jimeno; in this missive, in which he put professional aloofness somewhat to one side, he addressed the recipientadhering to the instructions he had received from Don Arnulfowith a particular rhetoric and made use of phrases he kept specifically for these cases, not in the gray matter of his brain, but rather on a note card found at the bottom of his desk drawer. He began the letter by applauding Don Andrs noble and enlightened notion of educating his son on grander horizons than those found in Santa Catalina, for the Republic of *** was in need of practical men who would do well to provide a spark to the national economy; and this could only be achieved by spreading ones intellectual wings in cosmopolitan cities like New York, where the inventions of electricity and steam engines have transcended the civil wars and human strife of tyrannical regimes, transforming those technological advances, not into weapons of war, but rather into instruments of human progress. And following another multitude of superfluously honeyed expressions, without rhyme or reason, he made manifest the truly delectable pleasure the members of his firm have experienced, particularly the one who signed the letter, when coming to the aid of such an intelligent and congenial young man as Don Lucas. He made reference to the visits Lucas had made to his offices, to the cordial manner in which he was

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received, to the duties which the firm had performed in order to facilitate the most equitable and expedient means for his college matriculation, to the promise he had made to continue to act in the favor of the one who was commended to his care, to the great attention with which he disbursed his monthly pension, and finally, to numerous other analogous items cast in the prefabricated mold prepared in advance specifically for such epistles. Before signing, he wrote a paragraph that deserves citation. It was the official salutation used by the members of the firm when corresponding in writing with Lucass father, from whom they had received valuable information and whose trade relations they were courting, assuring Don Andrs that any other requests would be attended to with the utmost care and attention. The letter written by Don Arnulfo Jimeno to Dr. Galndez produced an extraordinarily positive effect on Don Andrs, which could be inferred from the fact that, within a few weeks, he wrote to announce a significant shipment of coffee and pelts, adding that their consignment would be of chief concern in the future, and concluding by saying that words could not express his gratitude for the many generous services they had rendered his son Lucas. Don Cesreo de Albornoz responded in turn, and in a similar manner, to the letter he had received from his old friend and classmate Dr. Galndez; this document did honor to the science of writing interminable epistles, for there was no issue not addressed, no service not offered, including those which had already been performed, no stone left unturned; and even if it was of no particular interest to the attorney, Seor de Albornoz was, however, able to achieve the result he had intended by invigorating Don Andrs spiritsto whom Dr. Galndez had passed on this correspondence in order to demonstrate his own importance and knowledge of the outside world in even more striking fashionbecause, in addition to the numerous displays of gratitude contained within the letter Don Andrs sent in return, he also advised them of a shipment of a few gold nuggets from some mines of which he was coowner, and he admonished them to do him the honor of accepting them as a token of friendship and appreciation. Seor de Albornoz was more than willing to accept such a gracious gesture; but, of course, in the end, he sold the gold nuggets for little more than fifty dollars as soon as he received the package in the mail.

XI
New York is a big city, a colossal city, a sea, nay, a swirling whirlpool of humanity, where no one knows anyone else, where few people even look at each other and still fewer friendships are made. The marketplace fever consumes everything, it inspires fear in everyone, and it forces all into submission. The respite which one enjoys is fleeting. And it is all too often the case that months can go by without two friends seeing or speaking to each other, even when living in the same building and shopping in the same stores. Nevertheless, in spite of this peculiarity, in spite of this natural condition of life in the great metropolis, there exists a true originality which is absolutely impossible to describe if one has never stumbled across the particular idiosyncrasies of these people who feel the blood of El Cid and the Knights Errant coursing through their veins. It matters not if a Hispanic American arrives in New York City under an assumed name, traveling incognito and hiding away in the citys most secluded abyss, for sooner or later he will be sniffed out by his compatriots. And even if they have never seen him before and do not know beneath which pastoral sky he committed his first youthful transgressions, nor
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inside of what good mothers womb he began to kick during the first nine months of life, once these details are discovered, they are discussed and debated; and, when lacking a bona fide pedigree, they resolve the question by plucking a biography out of thin air in order to comment on it later with very uncharitable tongues. No one could have imagined that anyone in New York City would have happened upon Lucas Guevaras tiny hovel; the only one who knew it by sight was Seor de Albornoz, who was very careful not to disclose it to anyone for reasons which are very easily understood. And it could be assumed that the good gentlemen of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co. did not concern themselves with where he lived because they really had very little interest in the young man and even less interest in staying abreast of such insignificant details. But all things considered, in the end, despite the aforementioned circumstances, there was no shortage of people who could make this apparently impossible discovery. Jacinto Peuela was one of Lucass fellow countrymen who had been residing in New York City for many years and also had a thirst for adventure, an excess of preposterous inclinations, and held the quite stereotypical notionfrowned upon in the Republic of *** and other Latin American countriesthat American girls gushed like waterfalls whenever they met a foreigner. These misguided beliefs had carried him away to the far-off shores of North America, for more or less the same reasons which deprived the Republic of *** of Seor Jimenos intellectual and financial brilliance as well as Don Cesreos artistic talents. Peuela was never able to found a mercantile exchange company, like Seor Jimeno, although he did consider himself to be, if not a professor of agriculture, at least a master electrician. Although he was never able to find secure accommodations beneath the protective wing of a boardinghouse proprietress, like Seor de Albornoz, he had, however, made use of his talents and skills in the practice of another trade: that of the cicerone, an industry which hid behind the honorary title of commercial canvasser. Despite his daily squabbles with the managers of hotels frequented by other Hispanic Americans, Jacinto was able to make a living by hunting down greenhorns, winning over their confidence and converting himself into the first mate on these ships which made their maiden voyages over the stormy seas of New York City. Peuela made himself useful in every possible way, or at least he

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aspired to. He took care of the shopping, he played the part of amanuensis, and he would even put himself at the head of an expedition if necessary. But more than any other virtue he demonstrated, the one that shone brighter than all others was his patience. It was often the case that some naive foreigner, whom he served like a guide to a blind man, wished to go to the theatre. Peuela would purchase his ticket, would escort him up to the door of the venue, and, as if he had not been invited to the ball, would wait outside, propped up against some telephone pole where the newcomer would pass at the end of the performance. From there this tactless compatriot would step out in order to accompany his guest back to the hotel, tuck him into bed, and wish him a good night. On other occasions, Jacinto would be seen in a restaurant, sitting in one of the far-off corners waiting for his new visitor to finish his succulent meal, despite the fact that it was not difficult to see on Pauelas face an appetite capable of gobbling down every scrap and morsel in the restaurant in a single bite. And to top it all off, he took such special pains in the gracious accommodations he made for the recent arrivals that he even located houses whose modus operandi violated the laws of the City of New York. He took them to these shady establishments, arranged the terms of their transactions, stood as a respectful and passive bystander to the little edifying scenes that took place in the aforementioned places of business, and half-asleep, half-awake, waited spread out on a sofa, or if the circumstances required it, outside in the street, cooling his heels on the sidewalk until the merrymaking among those people for whom he had facilitated the entrance to such conspicuous places had come to an end. From what he was able to squeeze out of one and what he was able to scratch out of another, an obsequious Jacinto Pauela made his living, appearing to be humble and abnegating by nature when standing before some client he had in his clutches, but at the same time, haughty, arrogant, and putting on the airs of a fine gentleman when some notable figure would pass him by while making his way through the throng of tourists visiting New York City. His extraordinary sense of smell led him through the labyrinth of the city and into Lucas Guevaras presence. On one particular day, when the steamboats from the South American ports carried only light shipments of human cargo and few opportunities for him to perform his duties as a professional cicerone, Peuela presented himself at the boardinghouse and

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asked for Lucas. Jacinto was fortunate enough to learn that he was, indeed, there in the house. And after just a few minutes of conversation both of them began to feel as though they were two merry, old chums. Jacinto claimed, although untrue, that when he was a boy he had visited Santa Catalina, that he knew Don Andrs by name, and that he had a number of friends in said villagealthough he could not recall any of their names at that precise moment. But to hear the name of his fatherland, the name of his place of birth, the name of his forefathers, etcetera, etcetera, springing from the lips of a complete stranger so far from home was enough to warm the heart of even the most frigid polar bear; and to find a fellow countryman, on such distant shores, who purported to read the national newspapers and find in them the name of their illustrious country was enough to make even a caramel statue go mad with glee. For Lucas, Jacinto Peuela was like an angel sent from above. Nevertheless Don Cesreo de Albornoz would not give the time of day to Lucasss new friend and compatriot; and he would be even less worthy of respect after Jacinto began to do an autopsy of Dr. Galndezs distinguished colleague, whom he would not even touch with a ten-foot pole. Peuela may not have known Don Cesreo by portrait, sight, or correspondence, but he did know his reputation. Seor de Albornoz, for his part, knew Jacinto in a similar fashion, and he could not bear the sight of him either. Therefore, as the incontrovertible axiom goes: He who strikes first, strikes best, and on this particular occasion, Peuela would have a number of advantages over his rival. Don Cesreos body, as much physically as spiritually, was laid spread out over the amphitheater table, and with a piercing scalpel, Jacinto made a verbal incision that even the most skilled surgeons would have envied. And following Seor de Albornoz, the other compatriots residing in New York City came under the knife of his illuminating dissection as well. After two long hours of visitation, during which time he had demonstrated to Lucas a more thorough study than even the Encyclopedia Britannica could have made, Peuela bid farewell to Guevara, leaving him with the joyous prospect that he would come back to call for him over the course of the week. And he dutifully kept his promise. As the evening fell upon the third day, at the exact same time as the

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dinner bell began to chime to beckon everyone to the dining hall, Jacinto Peuela appeared at the boardinghouse. Convinced that Lucas could use a few pints, he invited him out for a late night promenade, using the pretext that Lucas had to familiarize himself with the city at the time when one tumultuous commercial center closes and another sort of industry opens its doors for business. The two compatriots set out on their adventure. Thus, new horizons began to spread across Guevaras future.

XII
Hoping to appear before Lucas like some grand connoisseur of New York City life, Jacinto ushered his young friend to the cabarets lining the sidewalks of East Fourteenth Street going down toward Third Avenue. In spite of the dangers one comes across in those parts, those were the places that Peuela frequented, because he was accustomed to finding himself there surrounded by many members of the Hispano-American communityusually greenhorns or those who had recently arrivedand also because similar encounters had provided him with the means of looking like a master of his trade and of satisfying his stomach with a few pints of beer without having to sacrifice any money from his own wallet. They entered the first nightclub they saw along the way. It was a colossal ballroom, at the back of which a sort of proscenium was erected, on whose stage, keeping in time with the somnolent orchestra, there were presented a variety of acts for the audience: acrobats, ballerinas, singers of intolerably vulgar tunes, fools, and ridiculous pantomimes; in short, there were as many beastly acts that could be performed for the lowest price possible. In the midst of an atmosphere saturated with pestilent cigar and nauseating pipe smoke, men and women of all ages and classes huddled around
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hundreds of little tables in a dastardly blend, licentious and repulsive to the sight of even the least scrutinizing observer. On the countenances of all the nightclubs patrons were made manifest the multitudinous rosy hues of carmine, from languidly pink to brilliantly violet; bare backs, wanton and heaving breasts, arms exposed for everyone to see, and all this, lacking natural color, was smeared with chemical compounds to simulate vibrancy and virility. Alongside a little girl just eighteen springs young, recently thrust onto the road of depravity and debauchery, women abounded who had begun their descent down the ladder of life many years before, presently with wooden teeth and pronounced wrinkles, suffering great pangs to keep vigil with rice powder and cold cream plaster over their faces, now in a state of decay due to lack of sleep and proper nutrition and an excess of alcohol; and it was not difficult to recognize the traces of infectious diseases which neither potassium iodide nor Ricord tablets were able to exterminate from many of their disjointed factions. Under the tables, masculine and feminine legs were locked in an immodest embrace; and hither and thither were heard the deafening roars of laughter, the tinkling of glasses, rude interjections, whispers escaping ones lips pressed against the ear of another, and kisses that people tried to hide beneath the brims of their hats. Circulating among the tables, dozens of waiters, attentive to the slightest request, distributed beer and whiskey, as this is the nature of those sorts of enterprises whose entrance is free to the public in order to sell, at much higher prices than ordinary cocktails, alcoholic beverages of such wretched quality that only organisms adept at slowly poisoning themselves can bear them. The rules of proper social etiquette are turned on their heads in those music halls; for it is not the gentlemen who invite the ladies to accept little treats or to engage in a moment of friendly conversation, but the women who invite themselves, most of the time in spite of the mens objections; the ladies are the ones who solicit gifts and on many occasions pester so much with their fastidious assaults that they obligate their presumed victims to either give up his seat or grant their insistent petition. And as soon as they have satisfied their whimsy, or once they have become convinced that they will receive no more concessions, scornful and indifferent, they forsake their suitor without even bothering to say thank you, and they go back to their lively flitting about until they bump into another candidate who might allow them to repeat the previous scenes.

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With every passing moment, couples are seen laying the foundations of momentary kinship. After their heads have become clouded by five or six glasses of beer, they depart from the saloon to go to one of the nearby hotels in order to consummate and terminate their friendship in a brief span of about fifteen to twenty minutes. Then the lady returns from the little hotel to the music hall that provided the stage for her conquest, and, if she does not see the opportunity for a new one on the horizon, she directs her steps to an analogous institution, where it is often the case that she will run into the gentle friend, from whose side she has parted just moments before, now caught in the fishnets of another houri of identical stature; and she will act so callous and indifferent that it appears as if she has never crossed paths with him in her entire life. As if every part of his body had become paralyzed, Lucas Guevara remained in a state of absolute shock, his lips half open and his eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets. There, he believed, they were living life to the very fullest; he thought this shop of horrors, whose magnitude could not be fully appreciated, was the grandest expression of desideratum. The legendary Land of Milk and Honey, whose charms he knew thanks to the Bible stories he had learned by heart in his Santa Catalina school, reconstructed itself in his imagination in vibrant colors inside this cabaret on Fourteenth Street. He could not comprehend how those female heads, adorned with chapeaus covered in feathers and flowers, those busts shrouded in ribbon and lace, those figures giving shape to silk and velvet, could be bought for money and at such low prices. The artists who appeared on stage represented themselves as if they were the highest manifestation of theatrical extravagance. In the end, that magical realm sparkled before his eyes with the splendor of those enchanted castles that are depicted in fairy tales to fill childrens heads full of wonder. Despite his justifiable candor, Lucass ears refused to give absolute credence to the indoctrination and instruction Jacinto Peuela provided in such eloquent prose; nevertheless, Jacinto felt a special satisfaction after contemplating the great astonishment etched onto his friends bewildered face, from which nothing could divert Peuelas attention, not the kaleidoscopic panorama that stirred in front of him, not the provocative glances, not the arousing gestures, not the seductive twitters, nor even the somewhat masked appeals which the music hall regulars sent his way. Far from it, all his hopes and efforts were channeled to demonstrate his

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perfect knowledge of New York City life and customs to Lucas. That is why, while vanquishing a third pitcher of beer and inhaling more cigarette smoke, he rambled on and on at great length with regard to the nature of those establishments, recounting the episodes which occurred therein and the services which they provided to the population seething in the great metropolis. He told Lucas how couples searching for temporary shelter in those little neighborhood hotels, which can be considered the complement to the nightclubs, are forced to sign their names into special registries before being shown to their assigned room; he explained how there existed a regulation enforced by the police that the momentary guests had to testify to their marital bond, and how the result of this ordinance was that now no one knew if any given couple ever signed their real names or current addresses into the registry; he described how the exact same woman could show up at the very same hotel numerous times over the course of the same evening, claiming to be the wife of different husbands, and how husbands could sign in as the consort to various wives; he delineated the conditions that the ladies generally imposed on the men who escorted them to said hostels, the commission the proprietors of those social centers paid the women for each guest they acquired, the ignominious serenity with which they collected the money ahead of time, and how, after carefully examining and counting their money, they stuffed it into their bloomer, an article of clothing with such redemptive value as to double as their safe; he related how they shattered the hopes and dreams of the innocents who allowed themselves to be seduced by vermilion-painted faces, bodies shaped with special padding, and skeletons manufactured from the vanes of corset bones, especially when the ladies recognized that a victim was some kind of foreigner who could not defend himself and was not privy to their cunning or their vice. Jacinto culminated all of his indispensable information with the succinct narration of the robberies, murders, scandals, and heinous crimes common to those parts, which qualified as dens of iniquity and perdition, but, of course, being legally sanctioned after paying the required municipal taxes and submitting to certain stipulations in order to live at peace with the police, and thus have not met with the same misfortunes that laid waste to the fabled city of Gomorrah. Jacinto spoke to Lucas about another breed of public houses, ballrooms, and nightclubs which were completely different from those found on Fourteenth Street; these were places frequented by a more select class of

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people, that is, patrons in possession of perhaps more bountiful billfolds. These were places where the price scale was proportionate to the magnificence of the location, the excellence of the orchestras, the superb quality of the drinks, and the superior taste and higher social pedigree of the ladies who visited them. These were taverns and cafes situated in less democratic neighborhoods, many of which were near the grand hotels and theaters where beauty and luxury came calling, offering the average spectator the opportunity for easy but not overly plundered conquests. It matters not that the women who attended these places were under the custody of gents who, no doubt, denied the fact that their female companion was the kind of woman who permitted herself to be enticed by tempting glances and gestures from complete strangers, even less when they were the ones who were footing the bill to keep them faithful and satisfied. If anyone were to suspect or discover that such was the case, they would have sound enough judgment as not to appear disconcerted, so as not to expose before the bachelors guild the fact that they have left their respective wives basking in the warmth of their domestic hearths, immersed in the belief that their husbands were dedicating this time of merrymaking to the pressing needs of their daily business. More than two hours had transpired while inside the same music hall, so Peuela suggested to Lucas that they could use a change of scenery. Their watches showed one oclock in the morning when they finally abandoned Fourteenth Street, after having first passed inspection over more than half a dozen similar establishments. Tomorrow Ill show you something more interesting and much more respectable, said Jacinto as he bid Lucas adieu. Ill come by for you around eight. And if youd like, go ahead and invite Don Cesreo to come along, too, he added, bursting out with laughter, whose echoes resounded in the deserted street.

XIII
Lucas Guevaras initiation into the jubilant New York City nightlife was an absolute catastrophe on his wallet, as was the case every time Jacinto Peuela encouraged him to incur expenditures he had not accounted for in his budget; therefore, when Jacinto arrived on the following evening in search of his friend, it was not difficult for him to appreciate the situation, expressed in the sorrowful lament he heard emanating from Guevaras lips, still not resigned to the defeat suffered from the adverse consequences he might face. Naturally, this impediment to Peuelas original intentions came much to his chagrin. However, it is unlike scrupulous and discerning spirits to fight a lost cause: philosophy, especially that of the cicerones, dictates that an appeal to reason is the surest life preserver when certain dreams appear to be lost at sea. There were still a few days left before Lucas would be able to make his monthly visit to the good gentlemen of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co., he was not yet well enough acquainted with Madame Bonfati to ask her for a loan, and he had already come to the conclusion that Don Cesreo was cloaked in a suit
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of chain mail defending his pocketbook against any and all adversaries. Therefore, after considering such circumstances, it was necessary for Lucas to take his struggle to a different battlefield. At least, that is how Peuela assessed the situation, as it was his responsibility to recommend a stratagem to win a victory of both practical and tangible results. He started by trying to convince Lucas that it did not go against morality, custom, or necessity for a student to solicit an advance on his allowance from his sponsors; for, according to him, professional studies were not unlike wedding plans: as the clock keeps ticking and the moment of truth approaches, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep spending within the limits of the original budget. With this in mind, it was agreed that on the following day Lucas would put the generosity and acquiescence of the good gentlemen of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co. to the test for the first time in months. But, in the meantime, while looking to spend the rest of the evening in the best manner possible, the two comrades were fortunate enough to have the young accountant pass by Guevaras door on the way to her bedroom. She paused momentarily to exchange a few words with Lucas; and Peuela, taking advantage of this situation, lured her to come in and keep them company for a little while. This was an enticement that the young lady consented to without reservation, although she would have done well to suppose that the trio would be packed like sardines in such a confined space. This was indeed the case, as the young maiden would find little comfort in the chair Peuela had proffered her. So, in a display of chivalrous laissez-faire, he took her by the arm and with little force on his part and even less feigned resistance from her, he drew her toward himself and made room for her on his lap. The end result of this action was that, after a few moments, Jacinto began to measure the diameter of her arms and thighs, with imprudent hands repeatedly venturing to profane other less visible parts of her body as well. In spite of the dubious scenes that Lucas had surveyed the night before, he still could not contain his astonishment upon witnessing Pauelas audacity and the bookkeepers liberty. Said anatomical research study would have continued in a quiet, delectable harmony, if big-mouth Bob had not decided to curtail his customary after-dinner confabulation with Mr. Bonfati sooner than usual that evening and, provoked by the suppressed laughter and muffled din that could be

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heard coming from Lucass room, gone in to interrupt Guevaras guiltless pleasure and the innocent frolic shared by Peuela and the accountant. For some unknown reason or due to some feminine caprice, there appeared to exist a great deal of animosity between Bob and the young lady, for as soon as she became aware of Bobs presence, without courtesy or pleasantry of any kind, she leapt from the seat which she had occupied and raced to her own bedroom, whose door slammed behind her with a resounding crash. This incident was reason enough for Bob to cut loose his tongue and make numerous unflattering appraisals of the poor young maiden. He confirmed that they did not see eye to eye because she, since the very first day that she came to live in the boardinghouse, had demonstrated particular pretensions which he, considering his own good taste, could not abide; he added that he also routinely observed her in dealings with the bakery operators that were somewhat more than merely familiar; and, assuming a disgusting Don Juan air, he concluded by making manifest that he had gone to wrack and ruin over all the damned attention he had shown to so many women. As if such revelations were not enough, the Bible girl, whom he classified to be a hypocritical and libidinous old hag, and the seamstress, whom he considered more skilled at manufacturing mens trousers than making bodices and petticoats because of the continuous contact which she had with them, also fell into the clutches of his biting criticisms. Then, humming a few bars from a tune very much in vogue in his day, Bob bid his two friends adieu and left en route to his bedroom. It was already late and Jacinto thought it a good time to leave as well, but he did not say his farewells to Lucas until he had taken the opportunity to provide him with thorough instructions about how to properly violate the eighth commandment when presenting himself the following day at the offices of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co. in order to exact an advance on his monthly pension from those gentlemen; at the same time, he was able to convince Lucas that he should write to Don Andrs right away, demonstrating to him that it was absolutely impossible for him to successfully complete his studies on the tiny sum previously allotted. Hoping that Don Andrs would place fewer obstacles in the way of opening his purse strings, they thought it prudent to entreat Don Cesreo to contribute to the cause by writing one of his own eloquent epistles. That dirty, rotten cuss! exclaimed Jacinto. De Albornoz is the kind

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of rat whod agree to do anything if it smelled like he could make a little cheese for his own troubles. That mastodon of a woman he lives with gives him everything she has, but its still not enough to keep him happy; so, thats why its a good idea to come up with some scheme of our own to achieve our objective. Dont worry. Ill take the matter up with my pillow this evening; and, tomorrow afternoon, when I come calling for you, Ill let you know what my impressions are with regard to this ordeal. Praying that Seor Jimenos hard heart might soften, Jacinto Peuela took his leave of the boardinghouse. Lucas was left all alone, dividing his thoughts among the admiration that he felt for Peuela, the natural apprehension he felt about approaching Seor Jimeno, the delicacies of the cabarets on Fourteenth Street and the liberties which the young accountant had shown.

XIV
After having attended his regularly scheduled English class, in whose efficacy the professor took special interest in making Don Cesreos asininity painfully clear, Lucas realized that the moment had arrived to proceed to his sponsors office. It tickled his imagination to think that he might soon be able to count on the means necessary to have another night out on the town with Peuela, this felicitous and impetuous Virgil whom fate had done well to place on his path of life as a student. And that is why, after summoning up all of his ancestral strength, he donned his chapeau and, a few minutes later, was transported by one of those elevated trains on his pilgrimage to an uncertain Mecca. Once he had arrived and was escorted to Seor Jimenos personal office, both suffering from dry mouth and gulping down his own saliva at the same time, Lucas expressed himself in the following terms: Im terribly sorry to bother you, sir, he said. But it seems that I have exhausted all of my financial resources due to some unexpected but urgent expenditures I have been forced to make; and, for that reason, I would like to ask you for an advance on, if not all, then at least some portion of my
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allowance for the following month. And exactly what expenses were those? inquired Don Arnulfo. Indispensable articles of clothing resulting from the change in season as well as various textbooks, replied Guevara. Hmm! exclaimed Seor Jimeno with a particular guttural intonation. He impatiently gnawed on his surly mustache, made four or five gesticulations, then remained in quiet contemplation for a few moments. Lucas twirled his hat around in his hands; his eyes became congested; sweat coursed down his entire body and seemed to collect itself in the palms of his hands, which were so moist that it felt as if he had just washed them; as a result, he was compelled to make frequent use of his dingy handkerchief, which he kept in his breast coat pocket, to dry them; unfortunately, this action caused for the last remnants of whitish color on the aforementioned article of clothing to slowly disappear. Finally, Seor Jimeno prepared himself to speak, which he did only after carefully consulting a ledger upon which, for the convenience and smooth operation of the mercantile company, he had recorded the names of the clientele along with their balances that, favorably or adversely, showed accounts receivable and orders filled. Prone to moralizing harangues and literary disquisitions on such occasions, according to what was widely whispered, Seor Jimeno could do no less than make manifest his laudable idiosyncrasies as he addressed Lucas in the following manner: I suppose that there are no compelling reasons why I shouldnt grant your request today, but, you should bear in mind, young man, that I am doing this as a personal favor to you, given my favorable inclinations toward your educational pursuits. However, I would not have fulfilled my sacred duties by accepting to act as your advisor if I did not trouble myself to impart to you a few pearls of wisdom that are the fruits of my age, experience, and moral, cultural, and religious convictions: shun any and all corrupting influences, remember that a penny saved is a penny earned, dedicate yourself wholeheartedly to your studies, attend mass regularly, live in the holy fear of God, and bear in mind that your youthfulness is running free in a very precarious region, where pernicious and diabolical temptations abound. After stretching his neck, scratching his head, and moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue, he assumed an aspect of visible self-satisfaction.

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Then he made a call to the cashier and gave him the order to present Lucas with the advance on his allowance that he had come to solicit. What Lucas thought of his victory, only he himself knew or felt. Although Seor Jimeno was, on the inside, completely satisfied with the good line of credit Don Andrs had maintained with the firmin light of which the commodities broker had opened the doors to a generosity uncommon or nonexistent for himon his face, he exhibited an air of placidity that overcame him as a result of having had an audience to impose himself upon with the semi-pastoral lecture he had just given to pester the poor young man. Once back at the boardinghouse, Lucas anxiously awaited a visit from Peuela, who even more anxious to know the result of his friends negotiations, did not delay in making his appearance. When he discovered that Seor Jimeno, contrary to his reputation, had made a show of his generosity, Peuela proceeded to formulate an itinerary for the entertainment they could both enjoy beneath the congenial cover of night. It was agreed upon that they would begin by dining at some reasonably priced restaurant, so that Lucas, above all, could become acquainted with that facet of New York life, so full of attractions for visitors and so absolutely indispensable for the majority of particular married women in New York City who live on scarce incomes. If the restaurants were not truly more affordable, they were at least more economicalin more than one respectas they did not oblige said ladies to sacrifice to the culinary arts the hours which they could be devoting to the theater and to the daily fluttering about the stores, counting on, as they did, the hundreds of gastronomic establishments to avoid the inconveniences of actually cooking and, with no lack of frequency, provided them the opportunity to substitute meals for their unsuspecting husbands. After finishing their meal, they planned to visit a few of those houses under whose roofs are sheltered specimens of the fairer sex, if not of a higher caliber than those found in the cabarets on Fourteenth Street, or any analogous place, perhaps less dangerous to ones health, and probably not as popularly utilized. As soon as the time to execute the first item on their agenda had arrived, Peuela thought it necessary to indicate to Lucas that he should give a few touches to tidying up his clothes; this was truly an indispensable prerequisite, because the collar and cuffs that Lucas was wearing, more

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than anything else, required a large quantity of soap and hot water to be returned to their original color. This small detail regarding the impositions of fashion and personal hygiene provided Jacinto with the opportunity to offer a timely discourse regarding a topic which is very often overlooked by many Hispano-Americans, who do not find it necessary to patronize, as often as they should, the industry which the Chinese migrs from the Celestial Empire in particular dedicate themselves, and in which they display their mastery of the operation of washing machines and clothes irons. Once Lucas, to the best of his ability, had satisfied this requirement, to which the author Manuel Antonio Carreo dedicated various pages in his Manual of Urban Living and Proper Etiquette, the duo took leave of the boardinghouse and began to make their way toward Broadway. Twilight had fallen. Alongside the immense avenue, hundreds of thousands of electric lights flashed, simulating the brilliance of day and providing an amazing spectacle to see. Through the center of the street, in an uninterrupted chain, ringing the warning bell at every instant, the railcars advanced, relatively slowly and packed full of passengers; to the sides, automobiles, coaches, carts, gigantic wagons, velocipedes, etcetera, etcetera, all contributed to the tempestuous throng on the boulevard; and on the sidewalks, the pedestrian multitudes crisscrossed themselves in every direction: some, completely out of breath and dedicated to their daily chores or urgent tasks, hurriedly made their way by swinging their elbows about; others walked with a more peaceful air, circumspect and anxious to find rest and relaxation; and still others, above all, the members of the libertine set among whom were numbered many examples of the Spanish racewith lothario looks, winked their eyes at any pretty face they came across in transit along the way; adventurous and easily seduced women lavished the honeyed gallantry with soiree smiles. To that indescribable effervescence of life, to that maddening tumult, were added the reflections of beauty, grandeur, and fairy-tale artistry found in the multifarious panorama of giant department stores, whose extravagantly illuminated storefront windows displayed silk and lace over here and fabulously expensive jewelry over there; fascinating bibelots; flowers and fruits from all over the globe; radiant mannequins adorned with every manner of ready-made confections and costumes; household furniture worthy of a kings palace; paintings splashed with brushes imbued with only the most

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exquisite colors of the palettein a word, the inexhaustible ensemble of objects that commerce uses to satisfy any human desire or caprice. And at somewhat distant stretches, numerous nightclubs and assorted venues opened up their doors to febrile audiences in order to sell alcoholic beverages, amid mirrored walls and shelves stocked with bottles of all the spirits and wines imaginable; their barkeepers dressed in immaculately white uniforms and their broad tables were heaped with a myriad of trays filled with provocative hors doeuvres, which the public had the right to enjoy free of charge and to which people helped themselves with the sort of moderation and discretion that would be considered vulgar in Santa Catalinas social centers because, here, the first person would swallow down everything in a single bite or he would devise a plan so that noone else might be able to serve himself. At the same time, the restaurants and hotels displayed, through glass windows, the enormous banquet rooms in which maitre ds dressed in tailcoats attended to dinner companions who indulged themselves in epicurean feasts while huddled around little tables adorned with flowers and illuminated by candelabrum whose flames were cloaked beneath red lace lampshade fixtures, as winsome orchestras impregnated the ambience with notes of rapture. Mingling among this expansive and vivacious crowd, blushing with bulrush, velvet, and billowing furs, swarmed the poor, downtrodden souls, whose eyesfilled with madness and desperationobserved lifes privileged few who squandered their fortunes by the handfuls, without considering, perhaps, that over the pleasure which they procured for themselves, floated the specter of a bloody knife whet by hunger and wielded by pain. After traversing the long span of the avenue, Jacinto thought that it was time to satisfy the increasing exigency of his stomach. As a result, he began to make his way to the restaurant that he had designated for that very purpose beforehand, makingbecause it was an absolute musttwo or three stops in different nightclubs, to supply himself with what Peuela referred to as aperitifs, cocktails of such caliber, invention, and ingredients that they were completely unknown to the inhabitants of Santa Catalina.

XV
The restaurant selected by Jacinto could not have been better suited to Lucass pecuniary circumstances, nor more consistent with Peuelas unbridled fancies. It was one of those establishments referred to as a table dhte; that is, it was a restaurant where, for a fixed price, dinner guests could furnish themselves with such an enormous quantity of food that, if it had been of a higher quality, or richer in nutritional value, a person with the most voracious appetite could very well sit and devour everything in sight and not need to eat again for at least three days. But, unfortunately, the cuisine was not always as savory as one might have hoped, nor was it as appetizing as the look its exterior often promised it to be. In general, the price of the meal did not exceed sixty cents; for such a modest sum, one had the right to request aristocratic hors doeuvres, comprised of sardines of such microscopic size that they lost themselves in their own juices; soups, fish, meats, salads, desserts, cheeses, and coffee; and the most surprising component of this pseudo-banquet, without augmentation to the cost, was a bottle of Medoc or Sauternes, which was not truly a product of the vineyards in France or Spain, nor even those in California, but was manufactured in Jersey and Brooklyn basements, using ad hoc fragrances and alcohols more hazardous to ones health than nitroglycerine concoctions.
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In the end, dinner without wine, or something resembling it, does not produce the same pleasure that the Roman emperor Heliogabalus desired, nor does it meet the conditions that fashion requires. So, under the circumstances, what more could one ask for than a glass filled to the brim with that bloodstained or topaz-tinted liquid? For, though it might well have tasted like medicine to the savvy connoisseur, to the dilettanteswhich is the category under which the majority of people fellif it did not procure for them the same satisfaction experienced by Noah after the Great Flood, they could at least enjoy its dizzying effects. In spite of all their defects, their deficiencies, and their anti-hygienic qualities, the tables dhte did offer a number of advantages. Firstly, their prices were very reasonable; secondly, they satisfied stomachs opposed to dyspepsia but not very discriminating when it came to taste; thirdly, they were frequented by a large mass of people classified as falling somewhere betwixt pauper and prince, who found it an appropriate place to forget about those who lived in search of new sensations, lifes greatest lamentation; and, finally, they contributed extensively to the development and manufacture of publicly patented medicines used for the treatment of gastric disorders, nephritic diseases, and hepatic affections. These restaurants were the ragpickers of the culinary industry, because they stocked their pantries with provisions that had been discarded by the grander hotels, and they served Steak a la Jardinire or Chicken a la Marengo with meats that had been imprisoned in refrigerators without a sufficient amount of ice for many months in a row. When Peuela and Lucas entered the restaurant, all of the tables were filled, so they were required to wait until one of the couples occupying them, influenced by all of the Medoc or Sauternes they had drunk, wanted to leave in search of a less boisterous and less populated place to spend the rest of their evening. The new dinner companions turn finally arrived, and it did not take long before they found themselves seated in front of the customary hors doeuvres, which promptly passed through the portholes of their appetites, as Pius IX wrote of the Immaculate Conception, like a ray of sunlight through a windowpane, without stain or blemish. The soup followed these dosimetric viands as well as the remaining dishes listed on the menu. Needless to say, like sappers at the table, even before the main courses had arrived, motley waiters appeared, dressed in tuxedos and celluloid shirt frills and collars, and carrying those aforementioned characteristic bottles of wine that, as one might imagine, had no corks or labels, that is to say,

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deprived of all form of virginity. For the patrons increased enjoyment, in a table dhte, one ate amid orchestral music composed of a violin, cello, and piano; however, perhaps, because the piano would never be pounded by Paderewskis fingers, nor the violin scratched by Paganinis bow, the guests were certain to pay little attention to the music, and those tireless and long-suffering artists who played their instruments would never sink into their pillows knowing the grandeur of distinguished merits, nor would their eardrums be stirred by the applause that, as not to hurt ones hands, the people from the Republic of ***, or from any other more enthusiastic and more considerate country, could produce by breaking plates and glasses with the clinking of knives and forks. In addition to the orchestra, however, the table dhte offered other enticements to those in attendance as well. There were numerous feminine figures that, without male accompaniment, visited those locales in search of more than just epicurean delights, not putting up much resistance to the wanton glances that the gentlemen sitting at the various tables would throw their way. So it was not unusual, to the contrary, it was actually quite common to see guests raising their glasses with a particular modesty at one extreme of the dining room and toasting with others who lifted their glasses in kind from the other side of the room; to witness winking eyes over here, flirtatious and witty smiles over there; and, on no rare occasion, to behold the exchange of calling cards and business cards, scribbled with, on one or the other, names and addresses or agreements for dates in relatively near futures. Likewise, it was often observed and generally accepted that a gentleman accompanied by a young lady would find it convenient to exchange suggestive glances and coquettish smiles with the dinner companion of some other guest in attendance, while, at the same time, in order to avoid any possible recriminations, the first woman would seize the moment, and in a like manner, begin an analogous interchange with some unknown patron of the opposite sex. The table occupied by Lucas and Peuela was, according to Peuelas graphic expression, a good spot to scope out the dames, that is to say, that without straining a muscle in their necks, nor spinning about in the cushions of their seats, the two young men could contemplate various feminine physiques which were, in turn, prepared to be properly contemplated. And that explains how, after only a short while, Jacinto would be engaged in open flirtation with a young lady who stood before him and would not elude the manifestations of admiration and congeniality from two other women who also watched him insistently. There was no shortage

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of women who, upon placing themselves at Lucass disposal, as was the height of custom in that place, would have followed the example of Peuelas outrageous behavior. Lucas attentively observed everything that transpired around him and attempted to take in all that he saw, supported in this endeavor by the explanations of Jacinto, who, with personal and visible satisfaction, made himself appear to be like El Cid Campeador, a man of such animal magnetism that there was no woman alive who could resist him. Lucas, when all was said and done, would have taken greater advantage of the lessons his friend was giving, if not for the misfortune that he would suffer when his head began to lose its natural equilibrium and his vision became blurry and objects lost focus. Peuela, once aware of the situation, made haste to put an end to the festivities. He made Lucas take out enough money to pay the tab, determining a suitable amount, with regard to the prescribed gratuity Lucas would have to give to the waiter. After distributing passionate glances and smiles to each of the ladies who had succumbed to his Don Juanesque gestures, he made his way to the door of the restaurant, followed by Lucas, casting his last remaining mouthfuls of cigarette smoke to the air and cleaning his teeth with a wooden toothpick which, due to public prudence, could always be found on restaurant tables, probably because of some secret pact between dentists and restaurant owners.

XVI
The haziness from the various cocktails that had preceded their meal and the spirits of the imitation wines that had accompanied it produced in Lucass headaccording to what he saidthe easily recognizable results found in those who are not accustomed to the partaking of alcoholic beverages. The night air and the same throng out on the street added to this cerebral agitation; that is why Lucas, staggering around with a mindless expression on his face, felt as if he had been filled with a certain joie de vivre and a desire to commit acts he would not have considered in his right state of mind. Jacinto Peuela, a wily old veteran, accustomed to resorting to the use of foreign coffers on similar occasions, duly complied with his responsibilities as a companion, serving as guide and support for his greenhorn friend, while still following through with the prescribed itinerary. Privy to all the
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citys crossroads, he slipped away to one of the alleyways and did not slow the pace until the moment when Lucas, casting the arm that braced and supported him to one side, reached for his stomach with both hands and cast out from his abdominal cavity all of the contents, some liquid, some solid, through his mouth and nostrils. Fortunately, this inopportune mishap was both short-lived and beneficial to the health of the ailing body, which ended up recovering and recuperating the full use of its faculties by virtue of a splash of water with a few drops of ammonia salt that Jacinto forced Lucas to drink at a pharmacy they happened to find over the course of their ill-fated journey. Now in a more tranquil and stable condition, they continued their march until finally halting in front of a house, through whose stained glass door could be seen the red reflections of the gas lamps illuminating the hallway. The two boldly mounted the stairs that jutted out onto the sidewalk of the street and rang the electric doorbell. After only about two or three seconds, a tall, slender mulatto woman, dressed in black with a white pinafore falling from her shoulders to her feet and a tiny green coif with white trim covering her head like a calotte, opened the front door with a reasonable amount of precaution. As soon as the doorkeeper recognized Peuela, whose face was very familiar to her because of the not insignificant number of clients he had brought to the house, she stepped to one side in order to make way for the visitors. The duo had not even crossed the threshold or closed the door behind them before the madam of the house, completely dripping with a syrupy smile, scurried from the back of the antechamber to greet them. This intriguing lady, whose age could not be determined even by an expert, unlike the woman at the door, was big on flesh but short on stature. Her cheeks were resplendent with all of the hues of carmine that were sold in the pharmacies; the brightness of said color was accentuated on her lips, in stark contrast to the immaculate whiteness of a row of artificial teeth rarely concealing itself from public view. Black lines, not skillfully brushed onto the edges of her eyelids and drawn out toward the temples on her head, lent a dreamy quality to her blue eyes. On her head, on her ears, on her neck, on her arms, on every finger of her hands, and undoubtedly on other less visible places, she wore an abundance of diadems, earrings, necklaces,

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bracelets, and rings set with jewels which, if donned by a millionaires from Fifth Avenue, would have passed as legitimate without the slightest hint of discussion. She wore a hoarfrost silk dress with a long train and white adornments, which was perhaps a bit too tight around the waist than what was absolutely necessary, but allowed her hips to protrude out with majestic grace. One could presume that the modesty of her gown did not leave enough fabric to complete the task, for the truth is that the bodice or corset appeared to be cut a little more closely than it truly needed to be; as a result of this probable defect, it covered no more than half of her back. The same was true for the figures behind her, who, free from all overwhelming restraints, fought to completely display their formidable exuberances. Welcomed in by the elegant lady with an exuberance that would be sickening if it were not the norm, she invited the two guests into the anteroom. The moment Lucas plunged his feet into the bearskin rug, which could well have been an imitation, spread out before the entrance to the antechamber, a spectacle shown before his eyes that he had never even dreamed he would ever see. Something resembling a black cloud obscured his sight; he felt a shiver of anxiety take hold of him and he was compelled to clutch onto Jacintos arm for fear that he might fall faint. It did not take him long to recuperate, however, and, as soon as he began to feel his head clearing up, he scanned the room from side to side. His pupils dilated, his lips were left half open with an unconscious smile, and he remained still for some time without taking a single step forward nor even closing his mouth. Finally, surrendering to external forces, he allowed himself to fall listlessly onto the end of the first sofa at hand. Like flowers in a garden, scattered about in the various chairs of the anteroom, there were eight to ten relatively young ladies, whose complexions glowed with the same vivid blend of rosy colors which were paraded by the madam of the house. Each one dressed in a distinct fashion; some with such gossamer tunics that it was not difficult, even with myopic eyes, to surmise certain secrets and predict particular feminine voluptuousnesses; on others, the hems of their skirts did not cover below the knees and their fishnet stockings modeled the calves of legs of differing diameters, while, as if provoked by ad hoc suppleness, the glands which Helen offered up to the Greek sculptor in order to shape the bust placed upon the altar,

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would mock the lace barriers which held and displayed them upon the slightest movement; and still others wore frocks of such flimsy material that, without brooches or buttons to subdue them, opened up indiscreetly in the front and, upon the slightest negligence, revealed bodies which gave wings to the imagination to fantasize about Biblical times and recall the innocent nudity of that seductive Eve who tempted an unsuspecting Adam to take his first bite of the forbidden fruit. All of the ladies lips were brightened by lewd, alluring smiles that seemed like an invitation to a kiss; each one clearly demonstrated her desire to be the one selected, the favored one, the preferred companion; each one appeared to aspire to a night of nuptial delights, or at least of a momentary union; naturally, all in accordance with the predetermined agreement dictated by the unwritten yet unalterable rules of the house, or rather, by the tariff which the patrons have agreed to be charged. The madam or lady of the house, aware of Lucass timidity and bashfulness, considered it necessary to provide him with as much encouragement as possible; a seasoned veteran in such situations, she hastened to fulfill her responsibilities with her characteristic adroitness. She drew up close to the young man, let a few honeyed phrases drip into his ears, then signaled for one of the ladies, who, skilled in the art of seduction, leapt from her seat and nearly threw herself onto Lucass lap, settling snugly on top of his legs as if to make a more comfortable seat for herself. She wrapped her arm around the terrified young mans neck and enveloped him in a mantle of affection which would have shaken even Saint Anthonys strength of will. One could easily imagine the flood of feelings swimming around in the young mans head upon finding himself ambushed in such a way: he changed colors; he was caught in the throes of conflicting sentiments; he did not dare pucker his lips, but rather felt inclined to shift the weight of the burden resting on his lap to one side and make a mad dash out into the street to get a breath of fresh air. However, on this particular occasion, human naturewhose laws are impossible to contradict, and that in rare instances of life actually inspires courage and awakens certain emotions that if not having manifested seem nonexistenttore down the barriers preventing him from showing his true self. Much to the satisfaction of Jacinto, who incited and encouraged his friend to allow himself to be swept away by the current, and also to the

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pleasure of the madam of the house, who rejoiced at the prospect of gaining a new patron, Lucas started to utter the few phrases that he knew in English, and responded in kind to the kisses he received from the nymph who was attempting to win his favor. It took no time at all, one could say, before Lucas would end up mounting up like a well-trained and disciplined soldier in these matters that, to him, were entirely unknown battles. Jacinto, an old friend of the house and experienced enough in this type of social interaction, jumped from one side of the room to the other, and to each lady who had some flattering words of affection, he distributed kisses left and right, allowing his hands to ooze over any sexual region he found within his reach; not even the robustness of the madam nor the wizened old mulatto woman who attended to the household chores escaped Peuelas gaiety and indiscretion. Convinced that Lucass pockets had not yet been emptied, Peuela made the gallant gesture of arranging alcoholic beverages for all those present. The mulatto servant entered the antechamber carrying a large tray containing as many bottles of beer as there were people present, as well as a bottle of whiskey, with the respective accompaniment of glasses appropriate for each type of drink, astutely and acutely to be served by the madam and her servant, so that everyone would be able to satisfy their own thirst; and, after settling the bill, they offered more rejoicing but fewer apologies in order to shamelessly extort as much money from their guests as possible. After the drinks were dispensed, they repeated Jacintos gracious gesture; and, inspired by the cocktails, the two young men made a move to relocate themselves to the bedrooms on the houses second floor. Jacinto explained to Lucas what such an invitation meant and, according to the house rules, how much it would cost. Having discussed the conditions of their visit with the madam and having mutually agreed upon and verified the stipulated payment, which they were obliged to pay in advance, and whose entire sum was deposited without any scruples whatsoever inside one of her stockings, the two young men went up the stairs accompanied by the two ladies who had tugged most insistently upon their respective heart strings. A grand room, with all the characteristic flourishes of a bedroom, opened up to receive them. This room was connected to another one just like it, and both were well furnished with spacious and cushiony beds,

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whose lacy bedcovers displayed an immaculate whiteness that distinguished itself from the rest of the household furniture. Lucas and his female companion took possession of the first bedroom while Peuela and his escort took up abode in the adjacent room. They half closed the door connecting the two rooms, and ten minutes later, silence reigned over the two dormitories. This silence was only occasionally interrupted by some murmuring voices and broken sighs, by the sound of the electric doorbell announcing the arrival of a new visitor, or by the clamor of the railcars and elevated trains . . . The visit lasted a little less than an hour. Jacinto, only half dressed, entered the bedroom occupied by Lucas; he turned on the light of the gas lamp, that, due to the special circumstances, had been left glowing almost imperceptibly; and he explained to Lucas that it was now time for them to take their leave. Both of their watches showed two in the morning when Lucas once again found himself at the boardinghouse, laying down on his own bed with the lights out and reminiscing about the scenes he had just witnessed. He felt a wave of lingering delight wash over him, even though it was difficult for him to accept the idea that he had already squanderedin such an alarming fashionthe advance on his allowance he had received. He fell asleep convinced that the tempestuous life of New York City held many more attractions for him than the tranquil life found in Santa Catalina.

XVII
Oh! What an immediate impact must have been made on the spirit of Lucas Guevara by those scenes he had viewed and had even played a part in during the last few days, especially those of the previous night! And, therefore, it is easy to comprehend why, while at breakfast the following morning, Lucas began to stare at the young accountant intently and in a way he had never done before. As if all of the animalistic instincts of mankind had suddenly been awakened within him, Lucas could not help himself from glaring similarly at the maidservant who waited on the residents table. Of course, these looks of ecstasy toward the first young lady did not pass unnoticed; one could safely assume that, steadfast in the conviction that Lucas would soon have another woman to yoke to his wagon train of masculine conquests, she would have certainly remained in the dining room for a much longer period of time if her professional obligations had not required her to take leave so soon. Perhaps on account of having stayed up all night, or simply because he found it necessary to place himself at the disposal of some other client, Jacinto Peuela did not come calling at the boardinghouse that day. However, Lucass English teacher arrived at his regularly scheduled hour and even
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gave a lesson that was a bit more protracted than usual, not so much because he wished to demonstrate increased interest in his pupils academic progress, but rather, because, a number of days ago, he had made a resolution to demand greater compensation for his professional services; and, using this as motivation, he would make particularly intimate revelations to Lucas with regards to the character, customs, and pretentions of Don Cesreo de Albornoz, whom he proclaimed to be a heartless businessman, a ruthless investor, and a soul capable of committing any manner of diabolical deeds if it meant that it would somehow be to his personal benefit. Each of the professors comments regarding Don Cesreo produced in Lucas an effect that is difficult to describe, especially because every one of the aforementioned accusations seemed to coincide with information which Peuela had provided him on more than one occasion. As for the petition which William made regarding the increase in his wages, Guevara replied that it would be necessary to address the matter with his sponsor, Seor Jimeno, and that he would have to write to Don Andrs in order to approve his request. Recalling the scheme Peuela had recommended to him, it did not escape Lucass attention that this propitious occasion served as the perfect pretext to write the letter to his father which now, following Jacintos suggestion, seemed absolutely necessary. Taking advantage of such an opportune moment, he asked his teacher to put his request down in writing. The remainder of the day passed by without incident worthy of mention, but the same cannot be said of what transpired after they had eaten dinner. The bookkeeper was inspired, perhaps, by the renewed and resolute glances she spied in Lucass eyes, and, desirous, of course, to repeat the rendezvous which she had made in the young mans room on previous evenings, she did not squander the opportunity, when finding him alone in his room, to enter with a quasi-familial confidence. A slight awkwardness was felt between the two during the first few moments, but as soon as the couple was seated at the edge of his bed, it did not take long to reenact the same scenes of social interaction Jacinto Peuela would have previously provoked, enjoying on this occasion the good fortune that big-mouthed Bob did not come by to spoil their prelude to heavenly bliss. The accountants visit would have lasted until midnight if they would

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not have considered it necessary to avoid suspicions and gossip among the boardinghouse residents; however, their soiree did not come to an end without having first consummated the type of secret pact between them that are usually made on such occasions. So, at a time when it was safe to assume that everyone in the house was out like a light, a muted rustling indicated that a door was opening; if some indiscrete witness happened to find himself in the vicinity, he would have been able to catch a glimpse of a figure cloaked in white tip-toeing and taking every possible precaution in order to prevent detection as it exited the bookkeepers chamber and directed its steps to Guevara's room. Of course, this was not the only occasion in which the white apparition was to make the same journey. Nevertheless, at the same time, over the span of approximately two to three weeks, any one entering any of the bedrooms at the first light of day would have encountered the peculiar phenomenon that no bed would be found unoccupied. Apparently, however, not only the accountant, but also the maidservant who waited on the table, and even the seamstress, all delighted in Lucass affections, which made itself known, with excessive emphasis, perhaps, by the great big bags found under Lucass eyes upon waking up each morning, and by the particularly incriminating look of fatigue which was something unusual for a young man of Guevaras age, but the opposite proved to be true in his case; in the end, all of this ended up coming to the attention of Madame Bonfati, the professor, the Bible girl, and finally, Don Cesreo de Albornoz. Even Jacinto Peuela himself, privy to all of Lucass secrets, andas far as one could surmiseserving as Lucass substitute when it was impossible for him to honor all of his various commitments at the same time, began to express some concern about the changes taking place in Guevaras character. If not as a result of their camaraderie, at least due to some other special interest, he thought the moment had arrived to impart a few words of wisdom to his young friend. Lucas responded by promising Peuela he would heed his words and would brandish them like scarlet letters across his chest, so that the seamstress, the maidservant, and even the accountant would be able to read this majestic phrase in broad daylight or darkness of night: Noli me tangere, Dont touch me! And he kept his promise, if not entirely to the letter, at least sufficient-

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ly enough to avoid the fateful and irredeemable havoc which would have forced Lucas into the sorrowful situation of having to appeal to such treatments as cod-liver oil, which may not completely cure a disease, but does quiet the ailment without having to seek any kind of real medical attention.

XVIII
While all of these events were taking place, Lucas wrote to Don Andrs exhorting him to increase his monthly allowance, justifying this request with a thousand apparently reasonable excuses, beginning with his teachers petition, naturally, originally written in English and mailed to Santa Catalina, and terminating with a mathematical proof demonstrating the absolute impossibility of paying for room, board, clothing, and educational costs on the meager sum of thirty dollars per month, in a country where everything is so expensive and wherever one turns new inexorable necessities are imposed, to

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the point that the expenditures on food and clothing cause devastating consequences on ones studies and even for ones health. Lucas had the good fortune that Seor Jimeno, undoubtedly inspired by matters of commerce, supported the young mans request, which made the intervention of Don Cesreo unnecessary; consequently, as soon as Lucass letter was answered, that is, a month and a half or two months later, Don Andrss order was received that instead of the amount that his son had been receiving, the commodities brokers would grant him the monthly sum of fifty dollars, that is, of course, if Seor Jimeno was certain that the money would not be squandered. In order to endorse his petition with something concrete and in some way correspond to the new services that the commodities brokers would be providing his son, Don Andrs promised them that the following shipment would include a cargo of coffee and furs worth a total value of approximately five-thousand dollars. On the other hand, Lucass teacher, William Roberts, was not lucky enough to receive any share of the increase that Lucass father made to his monthly pension. Peuelas influence on the young citizen of Santa Catalina was more powerful than the gratitude Lucas should have shown to the one who had assumed the role of teaching him the first rudimentary forms of the language and bringing him up to the point that, for better or worse, he would have no trouble surviving in the daily hustle and bustle of New York City life. As soon as Jacinto became aware of the fact that Lucas was going to be swimming in deeper financial waters, he found it convenient to reveal many of the secrets that he had concealed from Lucas, privileged information that would irrevocably change Guevaras nature forever, awakening in his spirit new appetites and broadening for him the radius of his generosity and liberality, which until then had remained quite narrow. Thus, the first indication Peuela made to Lucas was that he should stop wasting his money on English teachers, because he knew of a much more practical and enjoyable system studying and perfecting his mastery of the language, without having to be subjected to attending a fixed schedule of classes nor learning only those things the professor wanted to teach. Because Lucas showed interest in learning more about this marvelous new system, Jacinto summarized it for him in just a few words: First of all, he said, you really ought to move into a truly American boardinghouse, somewhere a little bit classier than this shambles, somewhere they wont speak that boorish patois of the Bonfatis, somewhere the people might serve as a kind of sleeping dictionary (a dictionary of pillow

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talk) and might occasionally agree to going out with you to eat at a reasonably priced restaurant or to an inexpensive theater, and, lastly, and most importantly, somewhere you could completely sever all relations with Don Cesreo de Albornoz, who appears to me to have all the characteristics of a vulture after the Great Flood. Lucas believed that Peuela had hit the nail on the head with his indications, and he assured him that he would follow them to a tee. In fact, on the very next day, when Lucass professor came to teach his lesson with the hope of receiving a favorable response to his request for a raise in his salary, he met with the unhappy fate that his castles in the sky had fallen to earth and lay in ruins. But, as much as he debated and struggled to convince Lucas of the error he was making in abandoning his studies at the precise moment he was just beginning to reap the fruits of his labors, there was no argument he could possibly make to change Lucass mind. With his head bowed and lost in thought, the professor took his leave of the boardinghouse, silently cursing the name of Don Cesreo de Albornoz, whose diabolic influence, he was sure, had robbed him of the scanty salary he made; at the same time, he regretted not having given Don Cesreo the commission he had demanded from him in the first place; in this way, perhaps, he could have averted this personal catastrophe. The first item on Guevaras agenda thus completed, the second, consisted of selecting a new boardinghouse, which would be arranged by virtue of Peuelas expert opinion, without even making Madame Bonfati aware of the move until after he had already found another boardinghouse and hired an express car to take his luggage from his previous domicile to his new place of residence; of course, this was done in order to prevent Madame Bonfati from notifying Don Cesreo what was taking place and so that Doctor Galndezs friend would not get the idea of coming by the boardinghouse and converting himself into an obstacle to the successful execution of his plan. It was not difficult for Lucas to locate new accommodations for himself with the help of one of the city newspapers in whose columns every morning appeared the names of scores of landlords offering room and board and similar comforts and conveniences to the inhabitants of the great metropolis at prices within reach of any wallet. It was even easier for him to find the office where they hired the express car to move his luggage. There was only one mountain left to climb: Madame Bonfati. Oh! What kind of reaction would the good lady have when he informed her that she was going to lose one of her tenants, one who was so punctual with the

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payment of his rent, who was placed under her maternal protection by her old friend, Don Cesreo, and who was probably the only reason why, up to that point, the seamstress and the accountant were still sitting together to eat at the same dinner table? However, in such cases, the slightest hesitation means irreversible defeat: at least, that is how Jacinto Peuela assessed the situation, so that is how Lucas came to understand it as well. And it was thusly resolved that there would be no room for any hesitation whatsoever. As soon as Madame Bonfati had become cognizant of what Lucas was preparing to do, she screamed to high heaven; she called upon all of her butchered tongues and burst into an explosion of exclamations, some reverent, but mostly profane; then, like a general in defense of his last stronghold, she concluded by making the declaration that she would not allow Lucas to leave the boardinghouse without the authorization of Don Cesreo de Albornoz. Her determined stance and dictatorial manner would have, in fact, dealt a deathblow to Guevaras battle plan, if it had not occurred to the irate womanin one of those moments of intemperance and indiscretion so typical of women who have received little or no educationto direct the following comments to Peuela: I was so worried that your negative influence might corrupt this poor young man. All you want to do is take him to some other place where you can exploit him to your hearts content. Ive lived in New York too long now not to recognize that people like you are nothing but parasites who make their living by sucking the blood out of every living creature. Youre nothing but a two-bit shyster and I wont have you set foot in this house ever again. The warm blood of the tropics coursing through Jacinto Peuelas veins, which the northern snows had never been able to chill, erupted in that instant like lava from a volcano, and very little prevented an incensed Jacinto from assaulting and battering Madame Bonfati, who attempted to protect herself against any form of attack by having the presence of mind to take shelter in the bathroom, where she screamed at the top of her lungs for her husband, who, at the time, was already peacefully snoring away, and not even all of Marengo and Austerlitzs cannons fired at his door in unison could have awaken him. While Madame Bonfati maintained her strategically defensive position as Jacinto Peuela turned barbarian and went on the offensive, the express car arrived to pick up Lucass luggage. As is generally the case with the employees of the transport companies, in the blink of any eye two burly

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men carried Lucass little valises down the street, tossed them into the back of their cart, whipped their horses into motion, and, in a matter of seconds, vanished from sight into the labyrinth of the city. Lucas and Peuela took advantage of the situation in order to take their leave as well amidst the protests and insults emanating from Madame Bonfati, who emerged from her entrenchments as soon as she sensed that the two young men were walking down the stairs. They reached the street and left at a hurried pace, without turning around, not even for curiositys sake, to gaze upon the walls of the boardinghouse for the very last time. At dinnertime, after having quite a formidable altercation with her husband, Madame Bonfati related the days events to her guests, with no other satisfaction than to curse the extremely discourteous and impudent customs of the disgraceful descendants of Queen Isabel the Catholic, among whose numbers were found Lucas Guevara and his companion, Jacinto Peuela. A wave of indignation rose from the collective chests of the boardinghouse tenantsincluding the accountant and the seamstresswho declared that the Hispano-American race was the worst in the universe, an idea generally accepted in the United States and even more so in the boardinghouses of New York City.

XIX
Lucass new boardinghouse was located on a less dangerous and better maintained street. The dormitory he rented offered a more expansive area and supplied his lungs with more fresh air to breathe; and although the meals were not as aromatic nor as nutritious as those which Madame Bonfati served at her boardinghouse, they were, however, easier to digest. In general, or rather, without exception, breakfast consisted of a fried egg with an anemic yoke, put on ice for an indefinite amount of time; a diaphanous slice of ham which was powerless to forsake even the slightest trace of fat despite the heat from the stove on which it was fried; a large cup of liquid made from any herb granted the title of tea, to which one could add milk that, as a result of the cooks fiscal prudence, was baptized in a pool of water; two pieces of bread only a bit thicker than a communion wafer; a ration of butter with all of the chemical properties of margarine; and, finally, water that was drinkable only at ones own discretion. For high tea, or lunch, one enjoyed another cup of the same concoction served in the
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morning with an identical measure of milk, potato salad, or apple pie, and an abundance of potable water. For dinner, or supper, the menu items changed in appearance, but there was no discernable improvement in the quantity or quality of the food: vegetable soup; boiled potatoes; tiny portions of foul-smelling lamb or musky mutton, which were served only twice a week; candied prunes; that indispensable cup of tea; and all the water that one could drink. In addition, on every Friday, in order to comply with particular religious precepts, one abstained from the alimentation provided by mammalian flesh and substituted it with crackers topped with salmon or canned sardines, or with malodorous codfish, carefully preserved in brine for many moons by the vendors. The residents of this boardinghouse were, in their own way, quite distinct from those who graced Madame Bonfatis table as well. The fairer sex constituted the majority and formed the social nucleus. Unlike such old fossils as Bobs mother and the Bible lady, these were young ladies whose ages varied between nineteen and thirty years old. Some were office workers, others were employed by department stores, still others belonged to dancing troupes performing in second- and third-rate theatres. There were even others who could apparently claim no gainful employ, who were able to indulge in sleeping until noon and who did not find it natural, nor even consistent with their pursuits, to retire before four or five in the morning. Consequently, the proprietress of the boardinghouse, no doubt in keeping with certain traditions and customs, was a widow, according to what she claimed and the fact that she was the mother of an attractive, congenial, and loquacious young lady, who had seen twenty Aprils come and goand, judging from her appearance, was enamored with the adventures of the street and of keeping audiences which were considerably more than merely platonic with some of the male residents of the housewould in some way attest to the truth of the matter. As with the previous boardinghouse, Lucas met with the happy fate of making his debut at his new place of residence during dinnertime, when more than twenty guests, seated around numerous little tables and creating an almost childlike ruckus, took refuge under the same dining hall roof. As soon as Lucas appeared in the doorway, there was a momentary hush, and all of the young ladies fixed their scrutinizing and mischievous eyes upon the new arrival, while the men, scornfully perhaps or simply due to their own egotism, scanned him from head to toe.

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The landlady assigned him to a table with six settings, which were occupied, by right of seniority, by three young women who were a bit more clever than average, and two examples of the stronger sex: a twenty-to-twenty-twoyear-old stripling, whose excessive hardihood probably demonstrated itself most notably by way of his protuberant, radish-colored nostrils; and another gentleman, with long whiskers and eyes whose true iris coloration was impossible to determine due to the smoked-glass spectacles hiding them from view. The proprietress of the boardinghouse introduced Lucas to his new dinner companions. As soon as the stony salutations and callous courtesies had been exchanged, Lucas dedicated himself wholeheartedly to the exercise of his gastronomic functions. The young ladies looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes, as the expression goes; they gave each other little nudges with their elbows; and they smiled with a mixture of curiosity and laughter. Radish-boy attempted to play the role of the dominant and supreme rooster in a chicken coop filled with broody hens, while the bearded gentleman, seemingly indifferent to what was transpiring beneath his very own nose, tirelessly tracked the movements of the voluptuous figure of the Irish girl, who attended to those seated about the table, and whose histological frame emphasized, with eloquent ease, a pair of hips nearly a yard in diameter and mammary glands which were so well developed that even a robust breed of Durham cows would turn green with envy. During dinner, Lucas remained completely silent, a silence that his dinner companions discretely observed as he took a detailed mental inventory of the people and things surrounding him; however, when supper was drawing to a close, one of the young ladies took advantage of the arrival of the so-called tea in order to ask Lucas to pass her the sugar bowl, an act he performed with absolute gallantry. This mundane incident created the opportunity for them to exchange two or three words that served as a precursor to a more expansive conversation. Naturally, upon permitting a few phrases to escape from his lips, Lucas disclosed, which his appearance had already clearly shown, the fact that he was a foreigner; and, as one might imagine, the first infallible question his interlocutor posed to him was the following: Are you Cuban? A carefully composed geographical discourse clarified any doubts and revealed Guevaras true nationality. The bearded gentleman and the other young man, uninterested in such patriotic disquisitions, had the good judg-

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ment to excuse themselves from the table. The former left as soon as the Irish maid had dispatched with all of her servile duties, and he concluded by placing himself in the kitchen to indulge in his own visceral gratification. The latter departed once he was convinced that feminine nature, the spawn of novelty and inconstancy, had reared its head there once again in the form of those three specimens of the fairer sex who searched for impressions from the newcomer which could possibly provide them with more practical incentives and which might better correspond to the desires of youth, desires and incentives translated into dinner invitations, where they would kick off epicurean feasts with cocktails and where they would accompany their meals with California red wines or with tickets to the theatre or to other spectacles where it was absolutely necessary to pay for front-row seats. Lucas and his three female dinner companions remained alone in the dining room and they would have continued to giggle and speak gibberish into the wee hours of the evening if the proprietress of the boardinghouse had not come to put an end to the soiree by turning off the gas and encouraging the assembly to find more appropriate confines for their social gathering. Naturally, Lucas invited his new acquaintances to his bedroom so that they could inspect or appreciate the quality and conditions of his quarters. Not one of the three ladies declined the offer and, with goat-like alacrity, they mounted the stairs and burst into his room. Without pomp or circumstance, they made themselves comfortable: two on top of his bed and the other in one of his chairs. Lucas surmised that his most strategic point of attack would be to make room between the two who warmed the edge of his bed with their derrieres, conveniently causing for the one who had situated herself in the chair to draw closer to him until all four knocked knees with each other. And that is precisely what he did. It was not necessary for much time to transpire before a real sense of camaraderie could be felt in the room. With tiny quibbles and intentional double entendres, they gave each other little taps on the back and thighs, tugs at the ears, somewhat candid and immodest caresses, and, in the end, all manner of acts which do not quite constitute a direct affront to morality, but do demonstrate the excess of confidence and liberality that challenges ones sense of decency. The moment finally arrived to adjourn the meeting because everyone,

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according to what they had said, needed to wake up early in the morning in order to promptly attend to their diurnal occupations. But the farewells were not said very quickly; rather they were accompanied by clamorous labial manifestations and winks of the eyes, which sowed the seeds for imminent and more intimate relations between the new tenant and the three fair maidens.

XX
In many cases, certain boardinghouses can be hazardous to the health of young people and even worse for older residents as a result of two primary factors: the scarcity and poor quality of the food and the wanton sexual relations found therein. Unlike academic institutions, they have no apparitors entrusted with keeping vigil over moral conduct; and, human nature, without the proper restraints to curb its innate impulses, is apt to run amuck, often inspired by the magnetic currents produced by instinct and by virtue of the proximity of dormitories inhabited by members of the opposite sex, which has become customary in cultural centers as heterogeneous and overpopulated as New York City. Lucas Guevara had only lived at his new address for two or three weeks when, in a style reminiscent of the accountant, acts began to take place which were similar to those performed at the previous boardinghouse. Not only the three female dinner companions who had favored Lucas with their affections on his first night there, but other residents appeared to be anxious to delight in Guevaras friendship as well. Finding himself in the conflict of being unable to satisfy so many different desires, Lucas felt compelled to act in an incorrigible and impolite manner on various occa93

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sions in order to ward off the temptations and sexual advances which besieged him. Fortunately for Lucas, however, Jacinto Peuela frequently came to his rescue and liberated him from those fiendish engagements by playing the role of substitute, as he had done previously, achieving practical results thanks to his wealth of experience and great expertise in this sort of interaction. The human heart, unstable, insatiable, and always in pursuit of anyone who seemed determined to allow himself to be under its control, insisted on hurling Lucas down an apparently irrevocable road. Lips that only nearly offered to treat him to a kiss would never satisfy the measure of his bestial appetites, but his covetous fantasy carried him away in search of the ever sweet taste of forbidden fruit. Among the boardinghouse residents lived a young lady, between twenty-four and twenty-six years of age, slender in mien, with an alluring and lascivious physique and a face which any maestro of chisel or pallet would have longed to duplicate. By day, she performed the duties of a saleswoman at one of the large department stores on Sixth Avenue; by night, after dinner, with clocklike precision, she received a visit from a diminutive old man who, as his physical appearance might indicate, found himself to be nearer to the cemetery than to the sides of the baptismal font. Devoid of any characteristics demonstrating corporeal strength or attractiveness, it was widely rumored that he was in possession of substantial accounts at numerous banks and that he routinely and generously contributed to his friends cause, enabling her to supplement the modest wages she earned at the department store. This particular young lady distinguished herself from the rest of the boarders by way of her reserved and introverted nature. She did not like to associate with the others seemed estranged from and indifferent to the insistent temptations and provocations of the specimens of the stronger sex who lived in the boardinghouse and who continued to seek any opportunity to deepen their relationship with her. Such conduct and eccentricities excluded her from the sympathies of the other young ladies, who revealed the animosity they had for her by quietly circulating not very flattering little tales, and discharged the weight of their jealousy and enmity for her by referring to the elderly gentleman with wholly unholy epithets. On one particular night, when the old man and the young lady had gone out for the evening, as they often did, on one of their customary nocturnal

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excursions, one of the other residents spoke to Lucas in the following terms: Anyone who gets a whiff of her sanctimonious air might come to think that she couldnt hurt a fly. But, would you believe that she left her good mothers side because one of her lovers left her in a very precarious predicament? In fact, she was forced to subject herself to clandestine medical procedures. She came to New York, and here, by availing herself of certain kinds of pleasures with a fellow I know, she was able to find a job as a saleswoman at the department store where she now works. That individual got tired of her, and now shes fallen into the clutches of this loathsome and foppish old man, whom I wouldnt kiss for all the money hes got. I dont even know what he could possibly be doing with that girl, because its like he isnt even a real man anymore. His wife divorced him on account of their troubles in the bedroom, and that doesnt help his reputation or his masculine capabilities very much either. When it comes right down to it, thats all a mans any good for anyway. Damn if Im not jealous of her . . . Nevertheless, Lucas regarded the situation from a totally different perspective, and he continued to view it in the same manner in spite of the crude and iniquitous information she had provided. Without surrendering or losing heart in his amorous pursuits, he aspired to transform himself into a Trojan horse so that he could stage an invasion from within her fortress walls. Be it curiosity or simply feminine caprice, one can be sure that the intense glares from the young citizen of Santa Catalina began to yield a visible effect on the young ladys libertine heart; from his glances sprung somewhat short conversations, followed by holding hands on the stairs and in the hallways; then visits by Lucas to the department store; and, as was proven later, departures at daybreak from his bedroom to hers, an act which almost always took place in the middle of the night upon her return to the boardinghouse. It was impossible for relations between Lucas and the young lady to remain a secret in such a place, an asylum for muckraking and the hundred eyes of Argus, prepared to detect human frailty with greater precision than a magnifying glass, especially due to all of the Guelphic and Ghibelline feuds that had occurred there. Therefore, Lucass life in that boardinghouse started to become insufferable, and he even began to contemplate arranging for new accommodations. After consulting with Peuela about his thoughts on the matter, he came to the same conclusion as Guevara; and so, by the end of that very

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same week, an express car transported Lucass luggage to another boardinghouse, which was just like the one he was leaving and similar to the one where he had first stayed; however, on this particular occasion, the proprietress of his second residence did not follow Madame Bonfatis bellicose example; and, as a result, the change of address was accomplished in an entirely peaceful manner; so, fortunately, by lunchtime of that day, they did not have to resort to the use of discourteous tongues, which is what the Yankee people consider one of the characteristic traits of the Spanish race. A few days after Lucas had arranged for accommodations at the new boardinghouse, he sensed that his health was beginning to wane. But he could not attribute this unfortunate circumstance to the living conditions in which he presently found himself, for it was highly probable that there were more or less the same number of tenants living there as there were at his previous residence. Moreover, perhaps due to the lack of opportunity, he had yet to establish friendships with any of the boarders. Therefore, it became necessary to look somewhere else to determine the origin or cause of his malady, and it was not difficult at all to discover that, yes, indeed, it was himself. More than it may seem upon first glance, it would be an act of injustice to heap the bulk of the blame on any single one of his recent female companions, despite the fact that he had a predilection for one in particular, for he had been unable to resist the compromising temptations the other ladies had subjected him to. What might have been considered at first to be a fleeting ailment, which Jacinto Peuela hoped to cure by making use of a few somewhat laborious home remedies, grew to such proportions that it became imperative for Lucas to seek out a certifiable disciple of Galen; and, this is how the pharmacy nearest to the boardinghouse gained a new customer who purchased relatively large quantities of sandalwood capsules and heavy dosages of potash permanganate. Although he made every possible effort to prevent the other boardinghouse residents from learning of the true nature of his disease, in the end, there was no way to avoid someone from discovering it. In less time than it takes to say hallelujah, the dreadful news traveled from mouth to mouth. At mealtimes, the situation became more complicated for Lucas: the women stared at him with disdain and as if the mere presence of the ailing body made them sick to their stomachs; the men, on the other hand, did not squander the opportunity to torment the poor young man, as they inquired

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about his continued health with feigned interest, hastened to pass him as many piquant and spicy dishes that were served at the table, orsympathizing with him due to his emaciated physical appearanceadvised him to drink excessive quantities of beer and whiskey. Once the illness began to diminish in strength and the need for medical treatment had dissipated, Lucas hastened to find yet another boardinghouse where he could take up residence, a place where he, who had endured the wrath of that infirmity, would later discover more favorable terrain for his sexual appetite. And the change of residence took place without incident worthy of mention. Heeding Peuelas advice, Lucas wrote a letter to Seor Jimeno making him aware of his ailment, which he classified as an intestinal infection and he admonished the commodities broker to attend to the remittance of his medical bills and prescriptions. Don Arnulfo dispatched one of his employees to check up on Guevaras condition, probably to ascertain the truth of the matter. Once convinced by the information he received, Seor Jimeno went to call upon his young protg in person, an honor bestowed upon Lucas for the very first time, inspired, without a shadow of a doubt, by an important shipment of coffee, furs, and gold dust that Don Andrs had just sent him.

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Seor Jimenos visit came as a tremendous surprise for Lucas. It plagued his mind to think that Don Arnulfo may have become aware of the fact that Guevara had little or no interest in his studies at the school he had enrolled in months ago but had only attended on a few occasions, may have taken note of his continuous changes in address, caught site of the dire straits in which Lucas had placed himself, and, finally, discovered the true nature of the disease which had befallen him. It troubled him to think that Seor Jimeno might bombard him with another paternal rebuke and then notify him of some substantial reduction in his allotment of funds. As for the pastoral reprimand, he was not mistaken. When would the caustic and sanctimonious Don Arnulfo ever squander the opportunity to give Lucas a lecture and bring to light his conventional idiosyncrasies drawn from the depths of his satchel of hypocritical sensibilities? The incriminatory Don Cesreo, to whom Madame Bonfati had run to
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tell everything Lucas had done in order to clear herselfaccording to her from liability, had brought those events to Seor Jimenos attention, embellishing as much as possible, with the gloomiest shades, in fulfillment of what he perceived to be an act of loyalty toward both Doctor Galndez and to the young pupil himself. He had also described, with a viperous tongue, the character and social condition of Peuela, who he classified as an ambitious young man, a swindler by trade, and a corrupting influence. Naturally, motivated by the disappointment which he felt upon seeing the windows of opportunity he hoped to find coming from Lucass direction closed on him in the same way that it occurred to the concierge at the Hotel Norte Americano, as one may recall, a disgruntled Don Cesreo, one can presume, made every effort to fill Seor Jimenos none-too-sharp mind with a smorgasbord of rumors and exaggerations. Hence, Don Arnulfo, without pomp or preamble, began to speak to Lucas in a manner which would make a priest proud. A few quotes from Biblical history here, the entire omnium-gatherum of Jos de Urcullus moral treatises there, and even some of Father Gaspar Astetes bewildering catechism thrown in just for good measure; numerous recollections of observations he had made while traveling through Europe and impressions he had gleaned from that brief stroll turned a hurried trot which was still lengthy enough to come to some conclusions concerning the decrepit customs of the Old World; all of this and much more culled out from his soppy cerebellum blended with an abundance of meaningless words devoid of common sense constituted the evangelizing harangue which Seor Jimeno disgorged upon poor Lucas. And even though he did not mention Don Cesreo by name, the manner in which he alluded to certain details helped Guevara to understand who had agitated the puny gray matter contained within Don Arnulfos cranial cavity. Thus, he came to recognize the culprit and the motive for having received letters full of threats and accusations from Don Andrs. Likewise, he realized that this was why Don Cesreo was nowhere to be found; instead of acting like the dogmatic mentor that he had been previously, Seor de Albornoz was now looking to stir up other waters in order to succeed where he had failed in Lucas Guevaras well of suspicion. The humble and obedient Lucas would have endured Seor Jimenos encyclical without venturing a response, if only the commodities broker, doubtlessly inspired by the young mans submissiveness, had not thought

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to play upon a sensitive chord. Perhaps not completely satisfied that his words of wisdom would bring about the immediate conversion of that wayward soul, Don Arnulfo hoped to guarantee it with a coup de grace, notifying Lucas that if he continued to travel down the winding road that he was walking, he would be either placed on the first steamship headed for Santa Catalina, or the businessman would withhold the monthly pension which Lucas had come to enjoy. Don Arnulfo, you are utterly mistaken to be speaking to me in this manner, exclaimed Lucas in an outburst which left the commodities broker completely flabbergasted. In the first place, the only person who could have filled your head with these rumors about me is none other than Don Cesreo, who has not been able to exploit me as much as hed like; and, from the moment I learned to defend myself against his onslaughts, he has become my worst enemy, perhaps because he thinks that he can derive some profit from his antagonism. However, even if I have committed the errors and faux pas which you have come to believe, you must admit that they were not entirely my fault. From the moment that I arrived in this city, no one has taken the slightest interest in my welfare, I have never received a single word of encouragement, the people with whom I have come into contact have only aspired to earn a commission off of me without providing any useful service whatsoever. When my father resolved to send me to this country, he was under the impression that those who had been recommended to him would lend me a helping hand, and not only would they meet to supply me with the means of sustenance, but they would also establish me in a favorable enough setting to lead a life in pursuit of my education. You know what kind of pigsty Don Cesreo put me in when I first came to New York; you know that, on various occasions, I have asked for your advice and requested for you to gather some information about schools, but you have only responded by either telling me that you have not received them yet, or that I should look on my own for the one which suits me best. After reading my fathers own letters, I know how much you and Don Cesreo have written to him, telling him that my education had been arranged thanks to your efforts, diligences, and God knows what else you have supposedly done for me. Yes, sir, I do want to go back home and I am ready to get on the first steamboat leaving port in order to avoid any further complications and relieve you from the responsibility of dispersing that measly pittance.

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While Lucas spoke in this manner, taking such an aggressive and passionate tone, Don Arnulfo angrily bit his tongue and did not trouble himself to point out the disrespect he had been shown nor to elucidate the audacity of the young man whom he had previously considered to be an eminently acquiescent member of society. Be it because his guilty conscience had paralyzed his tongue, for the accusations which Lucas had levied were all true, or because matters of commerce took priority over any other considerations, instead of exploding into an indignant and choleric rage, Seor Jimeno, in fact, assumed a beatific attitude; he undid himself with excuses and apologies; he made every effort to dissuade Lucas from returning home; he offered to attend to the remittance of expenses resulting from his illness and to subsequently assist him in a more effective manner; and, with a honeyed voice, he bid the young man adieu, repeating a dozen times that he swore to High Heaven that he would remember Lucas in his prayers, hoping he would have a swift and full recovery; and, in passing, he manifested the ill will and contempt inspired in him by that scandalmonger Don Cesreo de Albornoz. Don Arnulfo had scarcely turned his back, when Lucas, boiling over with rage and indignation, threw himself upon his bed, unsure if he should laugh or cry. He was finally able to fully appreciate the ignominious farce that had enveloped him; he contemplated, in their totality, the abject motifs which had brought Don Cesreo to share such information with Seor Jimeno; he understood that Don Arnulfo, who placed his accursed commercial interests above all other concerns, did not really like him, rather he liked using him as a simple instrument or pretext to flourish in the darkness of the many shady business transactions Don Andrs had made with the firm of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co.; and although he also came to recognize that Jacinto Peuela wanted nothing more than to live life to the fullest by exploiting whomever he found to be at hand, he still occupied the highest rung on the social ladder in Lucass mind, and he deserved more respect than that hypocritical businessman who had just paid him a visit, and more admiration that that degenerate and unscrupulous Don Cesreo de Albornoz. Under the weight of such ruminations, Lucas made a resolution, at that precise moment, to live as far away from all of his compatriots as possible and to write to Don Andrs, without leaving in the inkpot a single one of his complaints, disillusionments, or any additional information he thought his father should know, so that Don Andrs could escape from the lie that

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he had been living and come to appreciate the facts in their true light. Unfortunately, the good country bumpkin, hypnotized by the correspondence he had received from Seor Jimeno and Don Cesreo, did not give the letter from his son the credence that it deserved; in fact, he determined the epistle to be some kind of subterfuge employed by Lucas in order to avoid blame for his juvenile behavior. He really would have given the final order to send the young scholar back to Santa Catalina had Don Arnulfo, with the guile of a salesman, not assured him that, from that moment forward, Lucass academic discipline would be such that even the indoctrination of Carthusian monks would pale in comparison. Between all of the letters sent back and forth, between all of the recommendations and reprimands, between all of the temptations and resolutions to change his ways, many months passed without Seor Jimeno doing anything more for Lucas than rebuking him with a presumptuous air at the end of each month when Lucas would go to collect his allowance. Don Cesreo would not even look him in the face, save for one occasion when they coincidentally ran across each other in the street, and another time when, pressed for cash, he deigned to go and beg Dr. Galndezs nephew to loan him five dollars, which, as one can well imagine, he never received. This slap in the face rattled Seor de Albornozs last nerve and produced a bilious effusion in his body, which should come as no surprise, for it is a well-known fact that those who constantly demonstrate the same kinds of irritable and excitable personality traits as Seor de Albornoz, due to the dire fiscal straits in which they maintain themselves, no doubt, can produce a volcanic eruption in the nervous system which is difficult to control if one does not administer the required remedy on time. During this woeful and troublesome period for Lucas, the only person who knew how to maintain his position, by way of a good dose of his diplomatic philosophy, was Jacinto Peuela. As long as no mention of Don Cesreo or any reference to his competitorsthe concierges at Spanish hotelswas made, Peuela endured all else with Christ-like humility, an invaluable and indispensable virtue which every good cicerone possesses.

XXII
Relations between Lucas and Don Cesreo de Albornoz almost entirely severed, maintaining a none-too-cordial association with Seor Jimeno, and continuing to receive reprisals and reprimands with each letter sent by Don Andrs, the young scholar had lived in New York City for three years now. During a time when the young ladies inhabiting the boardinghouses were more attractive to Lucas than the books designated to provide a new light to Santa Catalina, it just so happened thatas a complement to his misfortunes and as a result of an inveterate custom through which the great majority of Hispano-American governments display their civilizing instinctsall postal service between the Republic of *** and the outside world came to a screeching halt: surely, not so much because of the civil war which had just broken out and the fact that the government would have to dedicate all rudimentary means of transportation to the war effort, but rather, because it often occurred that, even in times of peace, one never enjoyed truly efficient mail service, which is only
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provided for fear of a public outrage; therefore, in cases of popular uprisings, the accursed mail does not matter in the slightest. However, it is very important to point out that, though a rare anomaly, indeed, it is precisely during those times of paralysis that the postal workerswhose duties boil down to both imposing on the lives of neighbors and distant acquaintances alike and committing those innocent blunders which the natives affectionately refer to as epistolary executionstruly earn their keep. As soon as the New York newspapers announced that a revolutionary movement had erupted in the Republic of ***, events which were not relevant to the Americans nor any other foreigners due to the exponentially small frequency with which they find themselves in Hispano-American countries, the mercantile exchange firm of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co. wrote to Lucas, notifying him that they would not be able to continue to provide him with his monthly pension in the future. Stunned and confused, the poor young man hurried off to have a word with Seor Jimeno as soon as he read the letter; he explained the desperate situation in which he found himself to Don Arnulfo; he cried; he wailed; he called upon every resource one makes use of when facing lifes most difficult trials and tribulations in order to soften Seor Jimenos hardened heart; but Don Arnulfo proved to be unmoved, and practically pushing and shoving him out the door, he expelled Lucas from his office. Lucass problem remained unresolved as fate threatened to spread open its black jaws and devour him whole. With reddened eyes, swollen cheeks and nervous spasms besieging his entire body, he took to the street. The impetuous, feverish crowd which passed by him on the sidewalk caused him to feel even worse. Lucas found himself in the heart of New York City: that terrifying vortex which consumes everything, where an individuals value or worth is predicated upon the greater or lesser number of coins that he carries in his wallet; where no one knows anyone else; where the pauper is persecuted more strongly than the criminal; where every job, regardless of how insignificant it may be, has thousands of postulants knocking their heads and subjecting themselves to whatever humiliation necessary to acquire it; where the charitable institutions only open to accident victims and the infirm; where, crammed into unsanitary edifices, the disenfranchised perish by the hundreds, succumbing to the cold and hunger in the wintertime and dying of inanition and asphyxiation during the summer. That is how he perceived New York, that immense, heterogeneous and hybrid mass, home to every race of mankind, shelter of every human

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culture, ocean of every desire, marketplace of every virtue, receptacle of every ambition, a desert where every soul is lost and a feverish bazaar whose heat turns every heart to stone. This is how Lucas contemplated that gigantic city in his fervent imagination. Jacinto Peuela had baptized Lucas by throwing him into a lifestyle impossible to sustain when he could no longer count on such abundant financial resources; he had tossed Lucas into a current which was more powerful than the strength of human will; he had led him to discover secrets in a condition and at an age when he should have remained innocent of the ways of the world. Don Cesreo de Albornoz had shown him how much human dignity is capable of being stretched and to what lengths hypocrisy, vile interests, and the lack of moral conduct can be taken. Seor Jimeno, the commodities broker, demonstrated to him, at the most important moments of his life, all of the paltriness of spirits who do nothing more than pursue wealth, those for whom friendship, similarity of blood or race and even shared familial bonds have no value on the marketplace of affection unless the mesmerizing glitter of gold coins shines on the horizonand are regarded with utter disdain. Without any money to attend to the myriad demands of living in New York City, where inevitable temptations make it even more imperious and even more challenging to live at peace with the boardinghouse proprietresses, who are generally amiable when one pays the rent on time, but inflexible, intransigent, and inhospitable when one does not, where should he turn his eyes to and in what direction should he go? It was futile to consider communicating with Don Andrs: the revolutionaries and the government were both interested in the mutual suppression of the postal service; and, even ifby way of some miraclethe correspondence were to reach Santa Catalina, how many weeks would it take to receive a response, if Don Andrs did in fact reply? Lucas had no other hope than the very vague notion of finding some job which would be remunerated with what was absolutely necessary in order to prevent the landlady from throwing him out into the street to go without food or shelter. His natural instincts led him to think about his fellow countrymen residing in New York, who he believed could save him from this disaster without too much trouble and without encroaching too much upon their own personal interests. He knew that many of them were living under very comfortable circumstances, that they had business associates, and their own offices in which they ventured to earn a living from the multitude of people

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whom they were not tied to by any special bond. He returned to his room and decided to take a mental inventory of all the people whom he believed he could consult. It was a night filled with insomnia and, on the following day, in the wee hours of the morning, he began to put his plans into action. In the end, he decided to speak to Seor Jimeno about his intentions, because he was still nave enough to believe that, in spite of the scene from the previous day and perhaps by way of some feeling of compassion he had kept hidden away, the commodities broker would not listen to the poor young mans noble ambitions with the ears of a businessman. Of course, Don Arnulfo was not taking appointments with anyone at that time; at least, that is what one of his employees told Lucas, who inferred that such unavailability was reserved solely for himself as a result of previous instructions, for the truth of the matter is that two clients who arrived at the same time as Guevara were permitted to see him without any difficulty whatsoever and were promptly escorted into the brokers office. Feeling something deep down inside that he could not describe, Lucas left the offices of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co. and directed his steps to the office of Don Nicomedes Zabaleta, who claimed to be a banker and thought of himself as one of the most competent national financiers because he had amassed a considerable fortune by buying sundries at ten dollars and selling them for fifteen dollars. As soon as Lucas could be seen by Seor Zabaleta, who had a general appearance reminiscent of the Gentleman from La Mancha, he began to explain to Guevara that he was living in such a desperate and dire situation that his family ate scarcely one meal per day, that he did not have many associates in New York, and concluded by saying that Lucas would have to excuse him for not being able to converse with him at greater length, but his many responsibilities did not allow for it, hastening to give the order to one of his assistants that he did not wish to receive this visitor again. Only a short distance from Seor Zabaletas bank, Lucas happened upon the office of another compatriot, Don Patrocinio Landnez, who was also a star shining in the firmament of high finance by virtue of analogous business transactions to those which had made Don Nicomedes wealthy. Less ceremonious than Don Nicomedes, this fine gentleman, who displayed, without a possible doubt, the characteristic flourishes of those people who are bent on the eradication of the Spanish Conquistadors in the New World, affably received Lucas, and, although it was the first time that he had ever seen him and probably the first time he had ever learned of his existence,

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Don Patrocinio inquired about the health of Lucass family, but, as incapacitated as he was, according to what he said, to provide him with a job or make any recommendations, for he knew that it was like jumping through hoops to find employment in New York, he concluded by offering him two valuable suggestions: first, that he place an advertisement in the Herald offering his services, and, second, that he read the newspaper of the same name and reply to the announcements which appeared in the Help Wanted section. Thus, the interview with Seor Landnez came to an end. After exploding with indignation and outrage, Lucas concluded that it was absolutely absurd on his part to continue with the plan he had initiated, especially when he had heard Peuelaand even Don Cesreoon many occasions summarize the moral and material biography of all those fortunate individuals in New York who did not appreciate being approached by, nor did they favor the company of, anyone who could not do them any favors or those who were unable to pay back the favors they did for them. He thought it would be more prudent and practical to direct himself to those who perform the role of hackney, laboriously earning their daily bread in incessant toil which kept them in bondage from eight in the morning until six in the afternoon, enduring the vain and vulgar impertinence and rudeness of their patrons. Perhaps these hapless souls, who have neither hopes nor happiness, would be able to provide him with more useful and practical recommendations than those given to him by Seor Landnez. And he was not mistaken in his reasoning. If he did not find material support, at least he was given wishes of goodwill instead of frivolous wagon loads of empty promises. But no amount of goodwill or empty promises were going to satisfy his landlady. So, the original problem, without an apparent solution or even a sign of one anytime in the near future, remained unresolved and became more complicated with each passing hour. Lucas had spent his last dime and was left to the mercy of God and man alike. How was he going to traverse the enormous distances of the city to go looking for work in the future? Perhaps Lucas did not completely understand that, as long as his landladys patience and generosity permitted him to make use of a pillow to lay his head upon and a bite of food to fill his stomach, this situation would ease his suffering, but as soon as her virtues, which lasted no more than a week in souls who working in such industries, were exhausted, he would be left with no other alternative than to throw himself into the open arms of a violent death in order to liberate himself

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from all of his bitterness and sorrow. Everything of any value that he possessed, and these were very few, ended up in the Bowery pawnshops; however, the usurers Jewish sensibilities would not enable him to earn more than some small change. In the swelling anguish of his supreme strife, Lucas resolved to overcome the justifiable repugnance which paralyzed him and solicit from Don Cesreo de Albornoz that which he was not able to find in the rest of his fellow countrymen, whom he had been foolish enough to call upon. Although they had not seen each other or spoken to each other in a number of weeks, Lucas paid a visit to the house of Seor de Albornoz.

XXIII
It is highly probable that Don Cesreo had yet to rise from his bed when Lucas Guevara arrived at Mrs. Longs boardinghouse because Lucas was forced to wait for more than half an hour, and Seor de Albornozs physical appearance and even his manner of dress indicated that the visitor had caught him still tucked between the sheets. Don Cesreos head was covered with a nightcap; on his feet he wore imitation Japanese slippers made of straw, and, in addition to a wide stock which safeguarded his neck, he wore a suit coat buttoned from the tips of his lapels to far below his waist to cover up the fact that he was not wearing a shirt. In the appallingly conceited manner which characterized him and assuming a truly protectionist air, Don Cesreo exclaimed, Oh! So what fickle winds have blown you over to these parts, my dear friend? upon finding himself before Lucas, with whom he did not even offer to shake hands. A bit disconcerted by the chilly reception, the young mans first instinct was to respond to him discourteously; however, he was prudent enough to curb his anger and began to speak to him in this way:
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You must be aware that just a few days ago, according to the latest news reports, a civil war broke out in the Republic of ***. And thats why . . . Ah, yes! I read all about it in the papers, interrupted Don Cesreo, accompanying his words with various gesticulations and energetic hand movements. Weve once again made the shameful spectacle of fratricidal strife for the whole world to see. And then we wonder why it is that the great nations of the world, inspired by a sense of compassion and civility, would want to conquer us! We dont even deserve the liberty that was won for us by our illustrious patriots who chained victory to the tails of their warhorses on the fields of Pichincha, Carabobo, Boyac, etcetera, etcetera. Politics is the leprosy brought over from countries where nobody wants to work but only wish to live off the state budget; where they dont lose gracefully, but rather only submit themselves to partial surrender, which is always the most audacious; where they dont respect the inherent rights of others, nor do they have leaders who are trained to steer the Republic through the tempestuous sea of democratic intemperance; where they designate people to occupy lofty political positions due to the simple fact that they had been poor pedagogues but are reputed to be the most brilliant stars in the constellation of all human understanding; and where they believe that only by cracking a whip or by ripping open the womb of the motherland will their political opinions be able to prevail. I object to this outrage with all the energy of a man who was not born to mingle among such hoi polloi. And in a flurry of exaltation and enthusiasm, Don Cesreos contemptible patriotism climbed to such an elevated peak that it caused the boarding housekeeper at the entrance to the living room, alerted by all of his hollering, to believe that some grave catastrophe, perhaps, was about to take place. Although it may have deprived one of the most eloquent apostles from his oratory on modernity, the appearance of Seor de Albornozs benevolent friend did, however, quiet the nerves of that vehement rhetorician and liberated Lucas from the calamity of having to continue to abide such a shower of absurdities. After a brief pause, during which he breathed heavily, swallowed saliva, and impatiently twisted his unruly whiskers, Don Cesreo exclaimed, You were saying that, directing his comments to Lucas, because of this preposterous civil war . . . (And this is where he cut himself short, assum-

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ing a posture of interrogation.) Seor Jimeno has notified me, replied Lucas, that he will no longer be able to supply me with the funds I need to sustain myself. I have no one else in this city to turn to. I need to find some kind of job that will provide me with the means to survive. So I decided to ask you if it would be possible for you to do something to help me. So, in spite of the indifferent and reproachable attitude that you have shown me, now that you feel alone, it occurs to you that I may be of some use to you after all? You are terribly mistaken. The science of survival can only be learned by experiencing some painful lessons, and it is now your turn to discover them for yourself. You have placed yourself in the hands of degenerate coxcombs like Peuela, who have destroyed the moral predilections which your parents wished to instill in your soul without acknowledging the sacrifices which they have made in order to educate you, and then, finally, abandoning yourself to a life of dissipation, ignoring my advice, and denying my friendship. How could it have occurred to you, my fine fellow, to come to importune me in such a manner? Go ask your pal Peuela if he can get you out of the fix youre in, because its too pretentious and insolent of you to believe that I would continue to support your depravity. I rue the day when Dr. Galndez remembered my name and heaved such a loathsome burden upon my back. You, sir, may now take your leave. And saying this, Don Cesreo pointed Lucas to the front door with a triumphant air in a vengeful turning of the tables. Seor de Albornoz certainly did not believe that the young man from Santa Catalina would be so livid at that time; and so, this is why, to his overwhelming surprise, instead of finding himself standing before the proverbial peaceful Lamb of God, he was presently face to face with a wild boar, whose nervous system was agitated, not so much by the fits of laughter and insults which he had heard, but rather, by sensing that his last hope was disappearing on the horizon of deprivation and recognizing the miserable future which unfolded before his eyes. Don Cesreo had not even finished pronouncing his last words when Lucas, stirred to rebellion by the blood of his savage stock, leapt from the seat he occupied, as if propelled by a powerful spring and fell upon Seor de Albornoz like an avalanche. Lucas would have thrashed his face with tooth and nail if the table in the middle of the living room, serving as a wall

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of defense between the assailant and his target, had not saved Don Cesreo from the attack. You miserable wretch! Lucas yelled, shaking his fists at him in a ravenous fit of rage. I always knew that you had climbed to the top rungs of infamy, but I still hoped that you would at least still have a human heart. Speak of morality, you, who never had any, not even when you were still in your mothers womb . . . And grabbing a vase which was on top of the table, before Don Cesreo even had time to dodge the blow, the porcelain vessel fell to the floor after having smashed Seor de Albornoz in the nose and mouth. Something worse perhaps would have befallen Don Cesreo if the fervent boardinghouse proprietress had not returned once again to the living room entrance and, immediately upon seeing what was taking place, screamed at the top of her lungs: not so much as a result of the horror which the wound inflicted on the face of her venerable guestwhich was bleeding profuselybut rather as a result of seeing her vase broken and the rug on the floor stained from the copious flow of blood. Without making any inquiry whatsoever and obedient to her natural feminine impulses, Mrs. Long darted to the front door and alerted the entire neighborhood with a cry of Murder! Murder! A huge crowd of men, women, and children hastened to the entrance of the house; it appeared as if people had sprouted out of the earth itself. At the same time, three gargantuan police officers, with clean-shaven, red poppy-seed faces, arrived at the scene of the crime. After making their way through the multitude by swinging their elbows, they placed Lucas Guevara under arrest in the name of the law. While the officers of the peace took note of the pertinent information with regard to the crime, more than half a dozen reporters from the New York newspapers infested the house, filling their notepads with various details; there were about two or three who put their photographic cameras to work and others who made use of pencils in order to trace rough sketches and draw portraits. The result was that the afternoon editions of these newspapers could be distributed with duly illustrated narrations of the event, with ad hoc commentary in which, following an established custom, there was no lack of none-too-benevolent allusions to the ferocious and rebellious natures of individuals and groups of the Spanish race, which was nursed on revolutionary milk, according to what was believed in the Unit-

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ed States, and then reared on lances and blunderbusses. One of the aforementioned reporters went to such extremes as to make manifest his statistical talents by providing a precise account of the length and profundity of Don Cesreos wounds, of the ounces of blood which he had lost, and of the exact number of pieces in which the vase had been broken.

XXIV
The most important component of American journalism is the reporter. If one were to remove this human element, it would be perceptively diminished; its elimination from the realm of this industry would bare graver consequences than the suppression of ink in the rolls of the printing presses. Therefore, to be perfectly clear, the reporter is the newspaper. This graduate in journalism is a man of flesh and blood like most other men; however, it is undeniable that his organic composition, with regard to particular attributes, is quite distinct from the other sons of Adam. The reporter has a knack for uncovering facts, the gift of inviolability, a penchant for interpenetration, and, in the end, every talent that has ever been or ever will bewith a few natural exceptions. He elevates truth to the highest plateaus and he exaggerates lies to the most incredible extremes. He theorizes, analyzes, scrutinizes, and summarizes everything. As a general rule, the journalist is an artist; that is to say, he paints with broad brush strokes; with as few as four lines, he can sketch an entire physiognomy; with just eight, he can trace the shape of any animal; with sixteen,
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he can capture the most complex scenes from real life. He does not take photographs, for an accurate depiction is of little import, but it will at least stimulate interest. The journalist is well versed in music, astronomy, pharmacology, anatomy, geodesy, sculpture, and even medical law and the culinary arts; and, just in case he is not knowledgeable about a specific topic, he has the uncanny ability to make it appear as though he is and he is able to get everyone to swallow the pill. In general, what journalists do demonstrate is a gross ignorance in the study of geographywith the exception of that of the United States, of course, with which they are somewhat familiarfor not a single day goes by without some newspaper reporter asserting, with exorbitant impudence, that Uruguay is located in the Helvetian Federation and that Buenos Aires is the capital of Persia. There are no doors closed to journalists, no domiciles impenetrable, no obstacles insurmountable, no rivers too wide, no oceans too tempestuous, nor any battlefields that can instill in them a sense of fear or respect. For misfortune, they represent a balm; for abomination, a cracking whip; for virtue, applause; and for the criminal, they are the noose or the electric chair. Social parasites are not detected under the microscope of public sanction; rather, they are discovered and brought to light beneath the magnifying glass of the sagacious reporter, who is nothing more than the coefficient to public sanction. As soon as a murder is committed, even before the police have been notified of the crime, a newspaper reporter, who is already on the scene, is able to draw up close to the cadaver, inquire about the nature of the fatal blow, the victims antecedents, his good fortunes, and the sorts of places he frequented. In his notepad, he describes the scene of the crime, the physical appearance of the body, and any other pertinent facts that might stir interest with as much detail as possible while using the fewest possible words. With this assortment of data, the reporter rushes to the news bureau offices of the periodical which he serves; once there, in the blink of an eye, he fills page after page with the succinct narration of all the events, while the die-sinkers stereotype the layout that he has submitted to them as well as they can. And there is no end to his labor, for, as soon as he has finished packing the harvested intellectual fruits of his disquisitions into the crates, he returns once more to the scene of the crime, interrogates every living creature, attends the tribunals, goes to the jail, pays a visit to the respective families of the murder victim and the alleged murderer, and, availing him-

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self of any and every skill and cunning that perspicacity may inspire in him, he discovers facts that even the very interested parties themselves had never imagined existed. With respect to everything that he sees or surmises, he sends blow by blow, minute by minute updates to the newspaper, performing the role of one of the myriad message carriers who, for this express purpose, choose to accompany him. If there is a fire, flood, earthquake, or railroad disaster, the journalist is the first to arrive at the sight of the calamity. He is the one who inquires the most, inspects the most, and brings the most facts to light. If there is some political problem stirring in the spheres of government, he discovers the secrets of governmental administration, eavesdrops on private conversations, puts words into the mouths of people who never imagined that they could or should say such things, and, when the heads of state believe that they have some hermetically-sealed, gubernatorial top secret, it does not take long to find it in the pages of periodicals which have published what the reporters have discovered without anyone knowing. Monopolists and thieves, clergy and rogues, businessmen and industrialists, artists and vagabonds, every social and nonsocial class, they are all covered by the reporter, who will be there at their side upon the slightest blunder from any of them, with his sinister little pencil, his little photographic camera, and his little black notebook, jotting down every detail. If there is a sensational wedding, the betrothed and their families, invited guests and curiosity-seekers alike, all take for granted that the newspaper reporter, with nothing in heaven or earth capable of preventing it, will espy the most minute incidents from the ceremony and the most intimate details from the nuptial chamber. At the temple or in the theatre, in the schools and in the barracks, on the city streets and in the public squares, in government offices and on private desks, nothing is off-limits for the reporter. Flying in the face of caution, he will go anywhere and investigate anything. If he gets thrown out through one door, he turns his back to those who have injured him, after gently rubbing the bruised body part to numb the pain and, without registering a complaint or even uttering a single word, he does not waste time to pass through another door or climb through one of the windows; and, from this, one can infer that shame is not one of his brightest qualities. The journalist can sense who has just arrived in this Babylon of the North called New York City and who leaves from it each and every day. If a person has just disembarked and it occurs to the reporter that he might be able to provide him with a piece of sensational news or interesting infor-

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mation, he does not wait until the new arrival has reached his hotel: he corrals him on that very wharf or in that very train station. So a journalist is more revolting, more oppressive, more treacherous, and even more tenacious than a life insurance salesman. If the traveler begins by asserting that he is determined to cloak himself beneath the most impenetrable veil of silence, such declarations motivate the reporter to hurriedly publicize a thousand sensational speculations; and before the visitor has had time to take possession of his lodgings, the reporter is already there to interview him again and once again put his declared muteness to the test. As long as the person refuses to speak or does not tell him what he wants to hear, the newspaper reporter refuses to let him go. While he is being wooed with a thousand blandishments and flattering gestures, the journalist is taking note of all of the pertinent details with regard to the newcomers true personality. The reporter scurries about with instantaneous Kodak photographsas if it were a common practice pressing the button on the machine upon the slightest negligence and, voil, the person in question is duly photographed. Only a few hours later, the periodical hits the stands; along with a big, bold headline, the interview that the journalist had with the visitor, in which its victim is reported to have said things which he would have never dreamed of saying, takes up at least a quarter of a column in the newspaper; and, like an indispensable addendum to the article, their photograph appears, or something akin to an enlarged reproduction of the figurine which the Kodak had captured; but, given the haste with which the periodical is set into type and then printed, it may not be possible to do a perfect job in terms of likenesses. Therefore, the same thing occurs which happened to the celebrated painter and the rabbit: the baptismal and Christian names of the unfortunate individual photographed play the exact same role as the word rabbit in the work of the former artist; in this way, the reporter avoids any possible equivocation. As one might suppose, the result of this hunger the reporter suffers is that countless ignoramuses reap the benefits of providing themselves with the satisfaction of seeing their own names mentioned in print and even finding their own effigies in some hidden corner of the newspaper, because this is so easily obtained by means of access which are a mystery to no one; and they must reduce themselves to inviting the reporter to two or three shots of whiskey and allowing a few small banknotes to trickle into his pocket, innocent pleasures often procured by many Hispanic Americans and even members of other nationalities who hope to convince their compatriots of the

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social and political importance which they have attained abroad. The reporter cannot be censured for bestowing such magnanimity upon and contributing to the vainglory of such imbeciles, because he does not enjoy the comforts of a fixed salary; rather, he is only compensated for the number of lines which he writes regarding the news that he has gathered; naturally, the time which he wastes on reporting such tiresome biographical confidences is recompensed with a liberal gratuity. Of course, the person interviewed has even greater motivation when someone so eagerly volunteers himself to promote the glorification of a rural personality. In a word, the American journalist has no equal on the face of the earth; to fall into his hands is more terrifying than to throw oneself into the arms of a cannibalistic tribe in Central Africa: for the later will only kill a person physically, but the reporter will destroy both body and soul. Lucas Guevara, along with Don Cesreo de Albornoz and the esteemed Mrs. Long, fell into the clutches of such reporters, all due to a broken flowerpot and a bump on the head. Of course, upon reading the reporters accounts, there was no shortage of Lucass compatriots, ad honorem newspaper correspondents from the periodicals in the Republic of ***, who would not permit this event to go by unnoticed and, carried away by the unparalleled slander that characterizes those worthless, extemporaneous scribblers, the Hispano-American reporters would even go beyond their New York counterparts; and with an excess of perversity, they would deliver the pain and suffering to the heart of the people of Santa Catalina and to the soul of Guevaras family as well; for there was no lack of journalists who relished the singular delight of welcoming those scandalous articles to accompany them wih editorials in which all sorts of preposterous and idiotic commentary is made about events which are characterized as pernicious consequences of the loathsome North American culture.

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Without any consideration or courtesy whatsoever, and pursued by a horde of curiosity-seekers who had all beaten on the boardinghouse door and from whose lungsas with any crazed mobvoices rang out, indignantly shouting, Hang him! Hang him! Lucas was escorted by two peace officers from the area. Both Don Cesreo and Mrs. Long were notified of the exact time for them to appear before the justice of the peace on the following day in order to make the corresponding accusations. Once the prisoner had been conducted to the police station, more than ten pettifoggers hurled themselves at Lucas in order to offer their professional services as defense attorneys in a case of whose nature and details they were completely ignorant, undoubtedly harboring the hope that the presumed client could, when the time arrived, reward them more or less generously for the opportune actions of those industrious high priests of the impeccable human justice system. At the precinct, the police chief was sitting behind a towering desk. His vulgar and discourteous attitude was the same as all people who have dedicated themselves to his profession; before them pass all of the pains, all of
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the sorrows, all of the agonies, all of the maladies, and all of the ills of societys progeny on a daily basis. He enveloped Lucas in a cold, cutting, inquisitive, and vindictive gaze. He listened to the account his clerk read for him, prohibiting the prisoner from uttering a word, and with a despotic gesture, he gave the order for Lucas to be transferred to a prison cell until the moment arrived when the legal proceedings would be ready to commence. Practically pushing and shoving him with brute force, they made Lucas traverse the narrow passageway between the police departmental offices and some lugubrious enclave, inside of whose walls, in a heterogeneous mixturewithout any regard to class or genderpeople seek asylum whom disgrace, despair, hunger, and vice have extracted from the heart of society and expelled to the blind eyes and hard arms of justice. To be found there were the boy who had been carried away by a bestial furor and assaulted the mother who bore him, the little urchin who stole orphans bread crumbs from a widow, the heartless father who enveloped his home in destitution and abandoned it after kicking and abusing his children, the crazed lover who attempted to murder his girlfriend in a passionate fit of rage, the anemic workwoman who tried to find an end to her disillusionment by way of suicide, men and women for whom the state of inebriation constitutes the norm, the professional swindler, the abject woman consumed by alcohol and syphilis. There, together, were members of every race, from the plethora of different Irishmen to the lemon-colored and puerile-looking Mongolians; there was as much social unity deserving punishment to satisfy the censure of public opinion or begging for forgiveness in the repentance of the crimes which they had committed. This entire tumult of hapless wretches, sordid spirits and salvageable souls filled the galleries and chambers of the prison. And upon being counted among their numbers and prepared to change his own given name to a mathematical formula if the judge so ruled, Lucas Guevara entered the prison, accused of a crime which the Penal Code defined as requiring the intervention of justice. What a range of intimate emotions must have been felt by this miserable young man upon seeing the manner in which he was being treated, without lending an ear to his arguments or excuses, with an ungodliness and hardness of heart that can only be compared to the frigidity that victimizes those confined to the somber Siberian steppes, abandoned in a desert of affection; he who until that moment only knew of the beautiful and lovely things that life had to offer; he who circulated in a place where base inter-

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ests prevail over all noble sentiments; he who had witnessed the heavens open up to provide for his most urgent necessities, was now forced to watch as they closed with absolute cruelty. He who had the desires of rebellious and haughty blood awakened in his bowels, complied with what his bruised pride had regarded to be a sacred duty, by justly punishing that snake-bellied earthworm by the name of Cesreo de Albornoz? He agonized and suffered, without entirely realizing what had befallen him and what could possibly happen next, without repenting of his past but certainly full of distress and trepidation over the surprises the following day might have in store for himoblivious to the murderous and scrutinizing stares from his cellmates. The hours of the day slowly passed by and the night approached with its paramour of darkness and gloom. On more than one occasion, sorrowful and burning tears welled up in Lucass eyes only to be reabsorbed into his congested lachrymals. Lucas hardly chewed on a few bits of the alimentary rations they provided to the inmates; however, the water he drank by the gallon to quench the feverish thirst that consumed him was now in short supply. On the brink of desperation, there was no other person whom he could call upon than Peuela. But what could Jacinto Peuela possibly do in this sort of situation? What social clout did he possess so that his compatriots might listen to him in the event that he called upon them on Guevaras behalf? Would Peuela not simply convert himself into another Don Cesreo de Albornoz upon discovering the catastrophe that hung over his old chums head and deafen his ears to the cry of his plight? It was necessary for one of his friends to be kept abreast of what had occurred to him, Lucas thought. He would call upon Peuela; perhaps after being brought up to date on the events, Jacinto might feel some other muscle move than the wicked ones found in the soul of Don Cesreo; perhaps, in spite of the murkiness of the current dragging him down the path of life, Peuela might respond to the summons of the penitent with more courtesy than Seor Jimeno would have responded if Lucas were to call him. Jacinto could serve as an intermediary, as an agent of communications; he still enjoyed his immunity and his freedom; perhaps the youthfulness of the very same person who had introduced him to the secrets of living in New York City would cause him to reply with a more sympathetic echo to his compatriots regrettable situation. During lifes most difficult moments, as with a shipwreck, any piece

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of wood that appears floating on the crest of the waves seems to offer an arm of salvation before the anxiety of despair. And in Lucass own personal shipwreck, there was no other beacon to fix his sights upon than that of Jacinto Peuela. It was not necessary, however, for Lucas to make an effort to communicate with Peuela, for Jacinto had already been informed of everything that has taken place. Without losing any time whatsoever, he had gone to the police station in order to request permission to see and speak with the prisoner, but said petition was denied and he was only able to obtain a promise that his request would be granted on the following day, and only if Seor de Albornozs injuries did not reveal any alarming symptoms, in accordance with the medical examiners report. As soon as the prison chronometer displayed nine oclock in the evening, the order was given for the inmates to be confined to their respective jail cells. A Chinese man, who was the proprietor of a laundry, had already been staying in Lucass designated cell for the previous two or three days, accused of having attempted to seduce a little girl of just ten years of age, a practice to which the sons of the Celestial Empire are particularly addicted; despite their meek, taciturn, and courteous temperaments, they possess all of the arts and cunning required to corrupt the innocence of young maidens who have only just surrendered their pacifiers; and the police, in spite of all their efforts to the contrary, have been powerless to efficaciously inhibit the appetites and customs of those sectarians of Confucius. This particular prisoner spoke English in the same way that, as a general rule, all of his fellow countrymen speak it: gutturally and unintelligibly, which is the equivalent of saying that no one can understand a word they say. This situation was difficult enough for both cell mates to be frugal when conversing; each one suspicious of the other, they stretched themselves out on their tiny cots, ready to abandon themselves to the arms of Morpheus. Lucass Chinese cell mate took no time at all in falling asleep; as if he stored an orchestra of trombones, clarinets, and fifes inside his nose and throat, he began to snore with such force and such pulmonary strength that one might have believed that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were rushing by in a dizzying race above the prison walls. Lucas was tempted on various occasions to get out of bed and grab hold of his cell mate by his Oriental braid, but the fear of a new, nocturnal

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skirmish complicating his already precarious situation deterred him from making an attempt of any kind, and he satisfied himself by merely extending his arm and vigorously rousing the formidably snoring man; and, although it may be true that he became quiet for a few brief moments with each jolt, this repose only caused the symphony to continue in other tones and with renewed vigor. Mercifully, the morning dew came to liberate Lucas from the most atrocious of his sufferings. The prison bell announced to the inmates that it was time to wake up. The Chinese man opened his eyes, rubbed them with the sleeves of his kimono, coiled up his braid, fixed the cap on his head, and, seated at the edge of his bed, he waited until the guard drew back the bolt of their cell door. I couldnt get a wink of sleep all night long because of your snoring, Lucas told his cell mate, availing himself of the English language in order to make such a declaration. But the Oriental, if he understood him at all, was not terribly concerned; he simply mumbled a few guttural intonations, which sounded like a pack of howling canines with colds; he stared at Lucas with vague eyes, and a kind of reflex of a smile brightened his yellow face in a way which made it impossible to glean a response of any kind. At ten oclock in the morning, Lucas was brought before the judge who was going to hear his case and rule on what should be done with the defendant, as thirty or forty other prisoners, duly escorted, prepared themselves to meet with a similar fate. In the recesses of the courtroom, with his nose and lips crisscrossed by strips of bandages, Don Cesreo de Albornoz was found sitting beside Mrs. Long. Jacinto Peuela was also there, and he was then granted permission to speak with Lucas. In just a few words, Lucas recounted to his friend what had occurred and implored him to take whatever steps he thought necessary, in the event that his case were to be prolonged, to help him to escape from this predicament. Once the conversation had drawn to a close, Peuela directed his steps to one of those little lawyers who plagued the courthouse lobbies; he convinced one to entrust himself with Lucass defense, and, without leaving out a single comma, he related the details of the case to the attorney exactly as he had heard them from Guevaras own lips. When the court bailiff called Lucas to the stand, Seor de Albornoz and his esteemed female companion, by way of their legal representative,

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stated their case; not contenting themselves with that alone, they also saw fit for their lawyer to paint Lucas in a dreadful light. Lucass attorney, for his part, vigorously refuted all of the allegations and continued to follow the steps that accompany all legal proceedings. However, despite the eloquent arguments made by the counsel for the defense, the judge, in light of Seor de Albornozs bandaged face and the shards of vase presented as evidence for the plaintiffs, elected to postpone any ruling for a weeks time. Don Cesreo and Mrs. Long left the courtroom with an air of exuberance.

XXVI
The day designated on the docket for court to be reconvened to hear the alleged crimes of Lucas Guevara against the person of Don Cesreo de Albornoz was seven days after the date of the first hearing, that is to say, the court session which had just taken place. The judge, at the behest of the defense attorney, agreed that he would set the accused free for a bail fixed at the sum of one thousand dollars. This and condemning Lucas to return to prison were one and the same. Who was going to come to this greenhorns rescue? What could Jacinto Peuela do, especially if the young commercial canvasser had never seen so much money before in his life? For the moment, there appeared no other option to confront the situation than to return to his jail cell and spend a few more nights in the company of, if not another foppish Chinese man who snored, then among less saintly and perhaps more dangerous characters. With congested cheeks and eyes burning like two balls of fire, Lucas exited the courtroom betwixt two burly, uniformed officers of the peace, each one brandishing a small caliber, wood-handled weapon in his right hand, a sidearm which New York police officers carry with them out in public view and with which they have cracked the heads of more than one victim scornful of the impositions of the law. Peuela was permitted to approach his friend, he let a few words of
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encouragement and consolation pour into Lucass ear, and he assured him that he would immediately begin to take action in order to locate a charitable soul to loan him the bail money. With those words and those promises, Lucas passed beneath the lintel of the prison. Thus, he was once again lost among the heterogeneous and perfidious mob of detainees, a horde which was constantly expanding and regenerating, and from whose pores, creating a nauseating environment, was excreted intolerable emanations from alcoholic fumes, pestilences from hidden or open ulcerations, stenches from human limbs that have not received the benefits of soap and water since the previous Christmas and that in order to find themselves in a hygienic condition, would all require a protracted shower in disinfectants. While Guevara continued to agonize behind those somber walls, and as he felt all of the haughty instincts of his race stir up the sense of indignation inside him, Jacinto Peuela was on his way to the offices of the bankers and commodities brokers known as Jimeno, Marulanda & Co. In the doorway of the entrance, he was fortunate enough to stumble across Seor Jimeno, who was certainly not pleased by the meeting that he was obliged to accept. Peuela, in succinct and poignant terms, informed Don Arnulfo of what had taken place, and, as one might imagine, he ventured to call upon Seor Jimeno to come in support of Lucass previous request for help, furnishing him with the bail money he needed and exercising his influence to reduce the severity of the punishment that awaited him. Who could ask such a thing? Luckily for Don Arnulfo and Peuela, the interview was conducted in the Spanish language. The Spanish race has a reputation of conversing by making use of shouts and gestures with their hands, feet, and noses even when simply praying to the Holy Trinity, but those passing by did not pay any attention to the tumult of the commodities brokers insults, protests, and hellfire and brimstone condemnations; for, if this had not been the case, such alarm would have undoubtedly spread and would have required the intervention of the police. To record the derision and expressions which leapt from Don Arnulfos religious and Christian lips in this narration would be the equivalent of transporting the reader to the streets of Otrabanda, on the island of Curaao, at the time when the Negroes scurried from door to door of their respective domiciles to elucidate their domestic disputes, resorting to the harshest words of the outlandish Papiamento tongue rather than guns or knives. As has been previously discussed, Jacinto was a very brazen-faced

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young man, and despite his lack of necessary prudence, what must have naturally bared most heavily on his mind were the afflictions which Guevara was experiencing at that very moment, precisely due to an excess of hubris. Sir, I have come here, responded Peuela, not to solicit anything from you for myself, rather to fulfill my obligation as a fellow countryman to help my friend, who has found himself in dire straits. I had the idiocy to believe that you, who have traded so much with Lucas Guevaras father, just like you plucked the feathers off so many other unwary victims who have crossed your path, would answer to the cry for help, if not due to patriotic considerations, at least as a result of some instinct of generosity that must exist even in the bodies of worms. As for the words you have used to attempt to insult me, I spit them right back at you. Seor Jimeno let loose a roar that could have easily translated into biting and flailing if Jacinto had not had the presence of mind to start for the stairway before his interlocutor overcame his astonishment. Perhaps due to one of those rare anomalies in certain men who, under certain conditions, relish a certain bittersweetness when feeling pain, Peuela did not call it quits as a result of the quasi-tragic interview with Seor Jimeno; and he considered directing his steps to a few other compatriots, after the names of Don Patrocinio Landnez and Don Nicomedes Zabaleta came to the foreground of his mind. So, he began to march over to the offices of those two luminaries of commerce and finance, stars of the greatest magnitude in the sidereal spheres of the Republic of ***. Don Patrocinio was at the desk of his fellow heavenly body when Peuela presented himself, so, he could have very well killed two birds with one stone. Of course, one must keep in mind that all bankers greet their visitors courteously, and one of the partners carried his obligation to the extreme of asking Jacinto, with fraternal curiosity, about his wife and children. When Peuela made manifest that he was still unmarried and that there probably was not a single person on the face of the earth who could claim him as his father, the two associates burst into exclamations of amazement. Don Nicomedes, with the eloquence by which his admirers were said to have characterized him, demonstrated his theories regarding matrimony and concluded by advising Peuela that he should attempt to start a family, for it is the moral foundation, the fountain of love and tranquility, and a positive base for the economy. Don Patrocinio could not resist interjecting his two cents worth into his companions luminous exposition on civility, but, for-

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tunately, he reduced his comments to merely a passionate recommendation, in case Jacinto were to raise a family, that he not allow his children, especially not his daughters, to read novels, because there was no book of that genre that did not contain some love affair, which is the equivalent of inviting the asp of concupiscence into their virginal imaginations. After the patronizing torrent had subsided, Jacinto revealed the reason for his visit to the two financial stars. He was not even halfway through his explanation when Don Nicomedes became lost in a bundle of correspondence resting upon his writing table, and Don Patrocinio, with his eyes growing wide while gazing upon the chromolithograph that hung from the wall depicting an odalisque with her legs and breasts up in the air, pressed his lower lip between his index finger and thumb and dreamt, perhaps, about the next steamship carrying a few gripsacks of coffee. Since neither of the two associates responded to the visitor in any way, Jacinto could not suppress his convulsive movements, a mixture of raging nervousness and extreme bewilderment before such insufferable discourtesy. Seor Zabaleta, taking note of this, let out a gigantic yawn and stretched his legs out lengthwise; then, after a few brief moments of reflection, he deigned to make use of the spoken word, presently not in eloquent tones but rather in the mumbled litany of a half-asleep clergyman. Here are his declarations: I am terribly sorry, but I am not in a position to be able to acquiesce to your demands; in addition to the fact that I really did not have the pleasure of knowing the young Mr. Guevara, my business negotiations do not permit me to compromise the company name in this fashion, and I do not find it advantageous to establish such a precedent either. For, if I involve myself in this set of problems today, tomorrow I will become the beacon of hope for anyone who presents himself before me, alleging to be my compatriot. It seems to me that the appropriate person to call upon to get you two out of this predicament is the consul general. Why dont you go see him instead? When Jacinto looked back in search of Don Patrocinio, he was surprised to realize that, with cat like steps, said banker had slipped out of Don Nicomedess office and had disappeared into the circuitous corridors of the building. Peuela shot up from his seat in order to leave, but he did not think it prudent to do so without first throwing a few mordacious and haughty lit-

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tle phrases into Seor Zabaletas face; so, with this deliberate tone of voice, he told him: It pains me very much to have inconvenienced you with this unpleasant matter, sir, but I would like to make known that among Lucas Guevaras fellow countrymen there is one who, in spite of his financial impotence, still feels that all of the generous sentiments in his soul have yet to be extinguished. I just thought I could locate someone else who might find himself in better circumstances than myself. I see now that I was mistaken, and in a certain way, I am glad that I can damn to hell the last remaining illusions that would cause me to keep my respect for those kinds of people. Farewell, sir! There was a moment of silence, during which it seemed as though an explosion of lightning bolts was about to erupt in the atmosphere, but, fortunately, the tempest never unleashed itself upon them, thus avoiding another scandal from serving as an excuse for the New York press to make more unpleasant remarks about the fiery temperament of Castilian blood. Why! You are an insolent child! shouted Don Nicomedes at the top of his lungs. And youre a stinking bastard! Jacinto replied. But lets not start a ruckus, because I dont want to end up at the police station, too. Jacinto headed for the office door and slammed it with such force that the whole floor of the building shook. He took the elevator down, and a minute later, was on the street, drowning under the weight of his most barbarous impressions. At the moment when Peuela was about to reach the point of throwing in the towel, however, Don Nicomedess advice came to mind: he should hold an audience with the diplomatic representative of the President of the Republic of ***: the consul general.

XXVII
On the opaque window of the consul generals office door, in large gilded lettering, read the following inscription: The Consulate General of the Republic of ***. Office Hours: 10 am to 3 pm. It was eleven oclock in the morning when Jacinto Peuela arrived in order to hold an audience with the highest-ranking personal, commercial, and industrial representative of the president of the country that bestowed the appointment upon him. The door was closed, it appeared as though there was not a soul alive inside of that office, and, to attest to the fact that there, indeed, was no one inside, on a strip of paper, written in blue pencil and suspended from the door frame with a pin, read the following words: The Consul will be back at 2 oclock. The consul general was probably working diligently toward the identification of revolutionary conspiracies, thought Peuela to himself, or in the selection of presents to regale upon the presidential family, or performing some such duty that the faithful fulfillment of his official charge imposed upon him. It was futile to wait for three dreadful hours in the hallway; that is why he decided to leave and return at the time designated on the little
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piece of paper. At two oclock in the afternoon, Jacinto was on his way back. The consul general, who did not have an amanuensis to handle questions of appointmentsor any other questions, for that matterstill had not made his appearance, but because numerous individuals could be seen awaiting his arrival, Peuela followed their example and waited for him, too. I dont know why they even have these offices, said one of those present. Youre more likely to see the moon in broad daylight than to see the consul generals face. He must be taking a siesta, replied another. Thats what those South Americans always do. I would like to know, exclaimed a third person, if the government of the Republic of *** is fully aware of the way that its employees attend to their responsibilities. Here, here! responded yet another. Thats why they send them. So that they can sign invoices, lick boots, and collect fees, and to hell with all their other duties. Who knows what other comments would have been made if someone had not happened to finally arrive, not the consul, of course, but rather the chancellor of the consulate, who, in addition to serving as clerk, fulfilled the role of interpreter, manufacturer of ship manifest inspections, allaround errand boy, and substitute for his supervisor. In a single glory hallelujah, he attended to the interested parties, whose missions consisted of presenting him with invoices, behaving as though signing and sealing invoices and the payment of the corresponding consular fees were the only matters which interested the consul general. Jacinto continued to wait. As soon as the chancellor was left alone, he inquired if he would be able to help him to speak with the consul. I think Im right in saying that, replied the chancellor, I truly doubt it, because he called this morning to tell me that, if he wasnt here by two oclock, I should close up and leave. And its two-thirty already. Nevertheless, just as the chancellor and the visitor prepared to leave, they heard a few footsteps in the corridor that were somewhat louder than normal, leaving the chancellor in suspense; a second later, the office door opened with a quasi-spiteful thunderclap, and the consul general made his appearance. Of diminutive stature, with almost lemony skin and spots revealing, perhaps, that his liver was not entirely functioning properly, and with such ease in his stride and in all of his movements that anyone would have taken

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the consular agent to be someone else, even a cart driver, but not the consul general. All things considered, in spite of his somewhat more than disheveled outwardly appearance, he was none other than the person designated by the government of the Republic of *** to serve as its diplomatic representative in New York City. It is probable that the president could have been able to elect from his roster of fellow countrymen a citizen of higher caliber, that is to say, someone who would convey a certain aura of decency to the position and would not summon forth in ones imagination the memories of Guajiro and Amazonian legends. But how could one imagine that particular governments would preoccupy themselves with appointing the appropriate men for public service, when the presidents personal preferences forced them to find positions for certain men, despite such practices defying the boundaries of ignominy and ridicule? Of course, these are matters for the consciences of the presidents themselves, and since every nation has, as far as one can surmise, the government which it deserves: Render therefore unto Caesar the things that are Caesars, and to God the things that are Gods . . . The consul did not know Jacinto Peuela, and he had no reason to, as the poor boys name, no doubt, never was fortunate enough to figure among any of those spontaneous manifestations where a grateful populace expresses its unconditional unity and its adoration for the highest authorities in Hispano-American countries. For this reason, when the consul general learned by way of the chancellor that Peuela hoped to hold a private audience with him, he furrowed his brow; so, with all possible incivility, like one who feels obligated to concede an unwarranted prize, he announced that Jacinto could enter into his private office. Peuela, crestfallen and somewhat contrite before the spectacle of that consular majesty, presented himself to the consul general who let the weight of his massive frame fall upon his swivel chair, whose springs, upon absorbing such an unbridled mass, let out a raucous cry; however, the consul general never deigned to invite his visitor to take a seat. Before proceeding, it is necessary to give the reader an idea of the physical arrangement of the consuls office. A five-by-six meter rectangular room extended itself behind a wooden partition containing an opening like the window of a confessional. A pile of papers, inkwells, rubber stamps, etcetera, etcetera, were all heaped on top of a large table; a typewriter could be seen in one of the corners; in another corner, a press for copying letters; and in a third, a bookcase in which perfect-

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ly incomplete collections of official documents and the laws of the Republic of *** were stored; and, in the remaining corner, a heavy iron strongbox. From the walls hung a map of the country; an old chronometer that, undoubtedly tired of marking desolate time, lacked the strength to swing its pendulum; and, in a pine frame painted a color which defies definition, without glass or protection of any kind and overwhelmed by the dust and stains which humidity and time had left on the paper of an atrocious photogravure, appeared the effigy of the liberator of five nations, Simn Bolvar, with his arms crossed over his chest in a meditative and melancholy disposition, casting a look of ironic indignation upon the disheartening ensemble he was fortunate enough to witness. The consul generals private office was in better condition: furnished with a fine rug, plush divan, mahogany escritoire, swivel chair, hat rack, an electric fan for the summertime, and a glass cabinet, whichin addition to serving as a depository for the office supplieshid various bottles from the public eye, due to the sort of labels they had pasted onto them, making it easy to discern that they contained fluids not prescribed by any physician nor were they substances which the duties of that position would require. On top of the desk, in a luxurious frame, a grinning and self-satisfied portrait of the President of the Republic of *** was ostentatiously displayed; it was of a standard size and, at the bottom, it bore the regulatory inscription: N.N.N. Constitutional President, Reviver, Restorer, Reorganizer, Reformer, and Savior of the Nation. A Thankful People Pays Homage. The wall decoration included a calendar, the gift of some insurance company from the ones that they distribute at the beginning of every year, and two required documents, framed in solid wood, cigar-colored moldings: the first one, signed by the President of the Republic of *** and countersigned by the Minister of Peace, proclaimed that the citizen, X.Y.Z., had been duly appointed Consul General for the Port of New York; the other one was the execuatur, or rather the Commander in Chief of the United States of Americas official acknowledgment of the aforementioned appointment. Ah! What an opportune parenthesis! The frame in which the portrait of the president was exhibited had an unchanging quality about it, that is, it welcomed, humbly and without protest all of the pictures that needed to be placed within its frame after any change of government had been accomplished, and the president who fell, along with all of his titles, would end up in the wastebasket, to be replaced by the man who was newly favored by the popular vote. What can I do for you? asked the consul general with a hoarse and

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sour voice. In succinct terms, Peuela revealed the purpose for his visit and concluded by attempting to pull at his heartstrings to determine if it would be possible, given the consul generals official position, for him to do something in service of his disgraced compatriot, a victim of circumstances, who had no financial resources or influential personage to call upon. National governments and consulates would have to be very well constituted, indeed, if they were to arrange for defense attorneys for each citizen or anyone claiming to be one, for, as far as I know, there is no record showing that you or this Guevara are even natives of my country, responded the irritated consul. In order to avoid any further complications, the consul general rose from his seat and, opening the door so that his interlocutor could leave, he said: No, sir, there is nothing I can do with regard to this matter. And since I dont have the time to listen to any more of your lamentations, nor do I wish to enter into any kind of argument with you, you are free to take your leave. Red with fury, Peuela bit his tongue and then immediately slammed the office door, practically to the point of breaking the consuls nose and nearly converting the door into little splinters. Oh! The exclamations that escaped from his mouth upon removing himself from the consuls presence could only be repeated by Peuela himself. And the vexation and damnation against his fellow countrymen which leapt from the not very courteous lips of the commercial, etc. representative of the President of the Republic of *** was classified information never to be made public by the sphinx-like chancellors office.

XXVIII
There are all sorts of people in New York, and curiosity is one of the characteristic traits of the citys populace, a feature more prominent, as one might presume, in the fairer sex, owing to a sociological law which dates back to the bygone era of the Terrestrial Paradise. The number of women, according to the citys own census, is greater than its masculine counterpart. Therefore, wherever some sensational event can be found or any entertainment is offered whatsoever, even more so when the admittance is free, it becomes a difficult task for the police to supervise the throng of inquisitive women who push and shove without any courtesy or consideration, demonstrating even less willingness than men do to comply with the laws of public order. Nothing captivates or delights the majority of women as much as the cases which are aired out in criminal courts. And they carry their enthusiasm to such an extreme that the judge seems obligated to say, Clear the courtroom! Mrs. Estela Hendricks had witnessed the passage of nearly fifty springs in her lifetime on this planet, that is, of course, if one were to give credence
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to her baptismal record and not to her own word; for, according to her, consistent with the idiosyncrasies of women who have reached certain plateaus, only thirty-five summers had given color to her cheeks. In her youth, she had two legitimate husbands: she divorced one of them for reasons of a personal nature; the other one fell suddenly into the sepulcher as a result of a cerebral hemorrhage. In the interregnum, that is to say, between her occupation of those two nuptial beds, she had the pleasure of lavishing her friendship and her favors upon more than half a dozen beaus, not all of whom were bachelors; and as soon as the last consort whom the law and the church had authorized her to endureshuffled off this mortal coil, there was no shortage of substitutes to help distract her from the long and burdensome hours of widowhood. Up until she was about thirty to thirty-five years of age, Mrs. Hendricks had reason to consider herself to be a not entirely unattractive young woman; but at the time that she began her second marriage, adipose tissue began to appear in direct proportion to the augmentation of her age; so, the scales now tipped at a weight slightly higher than one hundred eighty pounds; in spite of her cosmetics and her frequent visits to the beauty parlor so that the beautician, with her knowledge of wielding chemical ingredients, could change the now pronounced gray color of her hair to a more dazzling blonde, Mother Nature could not restore the zeal of her youth to her body. She had reached an era in which feminine caprice adopts its most perplexing form, when perhaps like one of lifes last hoorahsto leave and never to returnthere are passions which achieve their maximum intensity, and every last connection to the censure of public opinion ends up being broken, even the few bonds that tie a sense of shame to the post of social conventionalisms. Mrs. Hendricks lived off of the rent she received from her tenants; she was the beneficiary of two hereditary estates producing a favorable income for her, although considerably reduced after payment of the onerous taxes that are levied on property in the United States. She was also in the possession of a large collection of jewelry, which was so substantial, in fact, that if necessity were to oblige her to resort to visiting one of those establishments characterized by the three golden spheres suspended from the main lath of the door frame above the entrance, where they gamble on humanitys miseries and misfortunes, and where they receive hearts of ice which never melt in exchange for tears from distant tribulations, they would

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have gladly accepted her jewelry for a guaranteed loan of fifteen hundred to two thousand dollars at a monthly interest rate of three percent. And, finally, in her savings account, she had deposited a sum of a little more than eight thousand dollars. Without worrying about what tomorrow might bring and with little inclination toward work, no doubt, Mrs. Hendricks lived a life that any preacher or archbishop would envy. She resided in an apartment, or flat, as the Americans call that sort of abode and, in order to attend to the cooking and cleaning and all other domestic duties, she depended upon a young woman of the African race, whose skin was so dark and so shiny that one would swear that they had varnished her with asphalt. Her servant received a monthly salary of sixteen dollars in addition to any gratuities the lady of the houses acquaintances would let slip into her fingers on particular nights when they would honor Mrs. Hendricks with their visits, play a few hands of cards and consume one or more bottles of champagne. As a general rule, Mrs. Hendricks got out of bed at 10 oclock in the morning; she immersed herself in a bath of cold water; in her nightgown, or la negligee, as the French say, she dispatched with a hearty breakfast; she smoked a cigarette; and, with the last mouthful of smoke, she left the dining room to engage herself in brushing her hair and all other chores relating to her personal adornment; then, by no later than 12 noon, it was time for her to be seen walking the streets to first pay a long visit to the boutiques, then attend some theatre or keep some prior lunch engagement which some generous friend would have made with her. During the late afternoon, that is, between 5 or 6 oclock, she frequented some caf where she was certain to stumble across old and new acquaintances; once there, she imbibed two or three cocktails and returned home for a change of dress to later dine out or stay in and enjoy the delicacies her maid had prepared for her. On the evenings when she would remain in bed and no guest came to brighten her solitude, she read the late editions of the newspapers and then retired to bed before the clock struck eleven. It is true that this did not occur with much regularity, but it did happen, if not for some personal satisfaction, then for some much-needed rest for a body that more than fifty springs of excitable youth must necessarily have debilitated. She relished scandals, stories that caught her attention and news which stimulated the wildest fibers of her nervous system. By virtue of such idio-

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syncrasies, she was often found in the criminal courtrooms when some clamorous proceeding was being publicly unveiled, when there were murder cases in which every detail could make ones hair stand on end, or especially when there was one of those divorce hearings in which the intimacies between husband and wife were revealed, and can only be compared with the expository notations found in Catholic prayer books used to assist one during an examination of conscience regarding the complex and multitudinous violations of the Sixth Commandment. At the same time that Lucas Guevara was about to wind up in jail for having attempted to break Don Cesreo de Albornozs nose, the citys press fully and completely engrossed themselves in another hair-raising episode taking place between prominent members of the social circles revolving around Fifth Avenue; as a result, those who figured to be actors in this play presented themselves before the court, and not a single one put into doubt that the principal party responsible for these events would be sentenced to spend a number of days behind the walls of Sing-Sing, that is, if the jurors magnanimity did not elect to send him to the electric chair. Captivated by this case, the curiosity of the public had reached its greatest intensity, and the number of spectators who resorted to attending the court sessions was so excessive that the police appeared obligated to intervene in order to prevent any serious disturbances. The case consisted of a doctor, married and father of two children, who began to grow weary of his wife and fell in love with his neighbors spouse, while he maintained clandestine relations with his own housekeeper, to whom, according to what was revealed in court, he committed the indiscretion of making a few promises which are so dangerous in this country and which others can take advantage of, when the occasion arises, in order to win monetary compensation when, assuming the guise of a victim, they file a legal suit. The doctors wife began to take ill months before, and the medicines she took, far from alleviating the disorder, appeared to have made her worse. Having consulted with two or three physicians, each one, as is usual and customary among the disciples of Galen, attributed the ladys state to a different cause. Notwithstanding, the malady originated from a plot hatched between the doctor and the housekeeper, for in order to obtain her favors, he had vowed to marry her as soon as he was able to become a widower. To this end, it was necessary for the couple to avail themselves of some strat-

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agem, so they agreed that they would slowly administer a poison to the victim that would produce the desired effects without raising suspicions. Their plan was being implemented with such efficacy that the doctor would have become a widower very soon if an unforeseen event did not spoil their little ruse and place the criminals in the hands of the authorities. The housekeeperrightfully or notconsidered herself in possession of certain rights and took certain liberties, especially after she discovered that her union with the doctor had placed her on the road to motherhood; so, she took advantage of the doctors absence to sneak into his office and dedicate herself to the task of passing inspection over any letter or correspondence that piqued her curiosity. In this way, one day, she was able to cast her eyes upon a note that, due to an unforgivable negligence, the doctor had forgotten on top of his desk. Said missive originated from the aforementioned neighbors wife. Composed in exaggeratedly amiable words, its purpose was to make an appointment at a very suspicious place. The serpent of jealousy sunk its fangs into the young ladys heart with ferocious cruelty, and she swore to avenge herself of the infamy that had deceived herand that had converted her into an accomplice, accessory, and perpetrator of a heinous crime as soon as she discovered the truth of the matter. From that day forward, she began to spy on her lover with more assiduity than they employ in keeping vigil over political prisoners in the federal penitentiaries of particular Hispano-American republics; her zeal and jealousy were such that, in the end, she caught the doctor and the neighbor in the very act of mutual adultery, coming to discover that she too, as a result of her relations with the doctor, would have contributed a new cipher to Adams progeny, if she had not made use of surgical procedures that were much in vogue at that time among those circles wishing to circumvent the sacred precept of Be fruitful and multiply. She did not decide to exact her revenge by killing the doctor, but rather by way of a cool, calculated scheme that apparently would not cause any material responsibility for her, but did, indeed, offer her the hope of some tangible vindication. She started by opening the eyes of the husband of the adulterous neighbor, to whom she sent an anonymous letter that would have gone unseen, perhaps, if she had not included with it the opportune indication of the customary time and place where the two lovers could be found alone. At the same time, and utilizing the same epistolary method, she

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informed the doctors wife about the true cause of her illness; she notified her rival, by way of another anonymous letter, about the illicit relations her husband had maintained with the housekeeper in her very own home. The neighbor put himself on high alert and, as a result, was able to corroborate the veracity of the allegations. The feud between husband and wife rose to High Heaven; he began divorce proceedings and sought legal action against the doctor for a considerable sum because he had robbed him of his wifes affection and left his domestic tranquility in ruins; the physicians wife also presented herself before the court, seeking a legal separation from the doctor and accusing him of attempted murder; as for the housekeeper, she prepared herself to serve as an unimpeachable witness in the two trials, resolving to suffer any consequences that these debacles might cause her, as long as she was provided with the satisfaction of seeing the adulterer who had deceived her brought to justice. Rarely has such a complex maze appeared before the American legal system; each one of the court sessions that heard of the crime provided tempestuous new evidence; family intimacies were disclosed and revelations were heard that could make the cheeks of a marble statue blush; and the doctor was incarcerated in the prison at Ossining, despite the attempts by his friends to influence the district attorney to accept money in exchange for his freedom, due to the simple fact that the attempted homicide was clearly evident, not only because of the testimony of a few witnesses the police unearthed, but rather because the chemists examining the liquids and aliments distributed to the ailing woman, according to the official medical report, found high dosages of poison contained therein. Mrs. Hendricks was one of the most devoted followers of the trial. By way of her amiable relations with one of the bailiffs, she availed herself of resources the rest of the public did not possess in order to find a seat in the gallery of the courtroom. On one of the days that the court docket designated the continuance of the celebrated case, it just so happened that, due to one of the jurors repeated indispositions, the judge was forced to reschedule the hearing and dedicate himself to the task of occupying himself with other less important cases still pending, and among these was that of Lucas Guevara. As soon as the notice was given that the jury would not be able to be reconvened due to the absence of one of its members, a large portion of the multitude that had attended the court session attracted by the interest

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inspired by the doctors case, thought it convenient to leave. However, a few curiosity-seekers did remain, among whose number Mrs. Hendricks could be counted. Half a dozen swindlers were all sentenced to serve more or less lengthy prison terms; two divorce hearings were left suspended; a fine and jail time were imposed upon a man convicted of possession of illegal firearms; three females, all still very young, whom the police had happened to stumble across attempting to publicly solicit passersby, were sent to the correctional facilities; two drunkards were pardoned of their crimes after inventing some cockamamie excuses; and then, finally, Lucas Guevara made his appearance in court. Even after Don Cesreos wounds had healed, since the charges which the financier filed against his assailant had not been dropped, and because he pressed the judge to comply with the law, in addition to giving Lucas the customary reprimand, the justice of the peace sentenced him to three weeks in prison. What was the expression on Guevaras face when he heard the judgment? That is a question which could only be answered by those present. But something very strange must have occurred, because the young mans figure had aroused a general curiosity; there was an overwhelming display of sympathy; and, when they escorted Lucas out of the courtroom between two police officers, Mrs. Hendricks followed after him with eyes full of commiseration, affection, and interest.

XXIX
It was not difficult for Mrs. Hendricks to obtain certain information she wanted concerning Lucas Guevara. She was able to track down Jacinto Peuela at the entrance to the courthouse and spoke to him in this way: From what I can gather, this poor foreign boy, whom they have just sentenced to three weeks in prison, is a compatriot or friend of yours. Could you, please, tell me who he is? Im particularly interested in finding out what provoked him to commit the offense that he was charged with. I may be willing to do something to assist him. Although still somewhat astonished by her brilliant notion, Jacinto hastened to lavish his gallantry upon such a provocative and buxom woman while supplying her with a succinct narration of the previous events, tracing a broad outline of Lucass personal biography and unleashing the tem142

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pest of his hatred for Don Cesreo and Seor Jimeno with such rapier incisions that, if those two gentlemen would have been found in the vicinity, there is no doubt that they would have been able to feel each thrust. Her curiosity thusly satisfied, Peuelas interlocutor thanked him for the information he had provided. Then, with an amiable smile, she ceremoniously bid him a fond farewell. Moments later, she was lost in the multitude passing through the streets. Jacinto remained riveted to the ground where the conversation had taken place, as he turned all of his ruminations around in his mind, attempting to determine if that stranger might have been one of the many women who, unannounced to him, had been favored by Lucass friendship in one of the boardinghouses he once resided, which would not seem odd to Peuela, because it was clear to him that not even the seamstress from Madame Bonfatis boardinghouse, despite her canine appearance, nor other analogous specimens of the fairer sex, had escaped the prisoners passionate exuberance. On this particular occasion, however, Jacintos suspicions were groundless: Mrs. Hendricks was innocent of having committed such sins at least, with Guevara. Other circumstances and other motives came into play here. Be it because Lucass physical appearance had made a favorable impression on the fair lady, or perhaps because one of those caprices had erupted when least expected and an irresistible desire began to grow in her heart to win possession of something she judged difficult to obtain, it is certainly true that Lucass person continued to tickle Mrs. Hendricks heart and soul; carried away by her machinations, she resolved to satisfy her desire at any cost. It was not the first time that an analogous anomaly had been witnessed in New York Cityfar from it. It is quite possible that in few cities of the world are occurrences such as these observed with greater frequency. Why? No one can answer that question, but there is no doubt that they happen on a daily basis. And this explains why there are so many loafers, without calling or occupation, who are well attired and well fed; who have the luxury of wearing gold watches, rings, and diamond brooches; and who frequent theatres and first-class hotels. They do all of this by virtue of the gifts showered upon them, like the manna raining down from Heaven onto the Hebrews, from some divorcee or widow who, due to some feminine idiosyncrasy, has become infatuated with them.

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Moreover, it is important to note that, in general, the Eves with alabaster skin, bright blue eyes, and blonde hair are impressed by certain skins bronzed by the tropical sun, certain black sleepy eyes; and certain anatomical features not commonly found in the people of North America. This is probably a case of when opposites attract. On the day which followed the previously described scene in court, a robust and visibly fancied-up lady presented herself at the prison in Ossining and requested permission to speak with Lucas Guevara. Women, and certain women in particular, are better equipped for accomplishing their objectives than their masculine counterparts; of course, it is understood that this only occurs when referring to the opposite sex. For this reason, the police sergeant who received the fair lady did not place any obstacles in the way of achieving her desires. A few minutes later, Mrs. Hendricks appeared in front of the door to the cell where Lucas Guevara blasphemed against God and man and counted every monotonous moment of life he spent deprived of his liberty, without being offered the hope of recovering his freedom before the term determined by the judges inexorable will. At first sight, Lucas imagined that he was seeing a quasi-celestial apparition before him, and he remained motionless and unable to utter a single word. She greeted Lucas with a sugar-coated tongue and uncommon charm; she hastened to clarify how she had come to learn about his plight and express how much interest his situation had inspired in her, now finding herself prepared to perform any necessary diligences in order to put a quick end to his torment. Lucas thought he must have been dreaming; it was impossible for him to fully comprehend all that he heard and felt; and it was only after some time that, in response to his astonishment, he began to organize his thoughts and feel the moisture return to his tongue. The following dialogue ensued: Please dont be startled by my coming here under these circumstances, Mrs. Hendricks hurried to say. It wont take long for you to understand, perhaps, the reasons which have brought me here. Ive already explained that I am only interested in your well-being. It would only startle me, replied Lucas, encouraged by his visitors amiable treatment, if, in spite of all of the disillusionment and bitterness that I have endured in my life, there is still hope for me to discover a compassionate and generous soul in the world who could sympathize with the

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suffering of others. Im sure that you are one of those charitable souls, and rather than feel ill at ease, I feel consoled. Im fully aware of everything that has happened to you. Your plight has captivated my attention, your condition as a foreigner moves me, and I have decided to do all in my power to improve your current situation. How could I ever show my gratitude? interjected Lucas, whose pupils glistened with a new light and whose eyelids were moistened as if by a repressed tear. Patience and obedience, retorted the fair lady, and reaching with her finely gloved hand through the bars of his cell, she softly caressed the prisoners cheek. Upon feeling that affectionate touch, Lucas took hold of her doting hand between his and bestowed upon it, not one, but dozens of kisses burning with desire. Her visit would have certainly been prolonged for many minutes more if the wardens voice had not been heard announcing that the prisons visitation hours had come to an end. There was only enough time for the two interlocutors to exchange two or three more words and for Mrs. Hendricks to finally get Lucas to overcome the natural timidity which paralyzed him, to almost insist that he draw up close to her lips with his owndespite the impertinent barsand with a furtive kiss, sealed the prologue to the unexpected and congenial friendship she offered him. In the darkness of the cell occupied by the prisoner, a light began to shine whose luminescence could not be eclipsed by any shadow. It was the light of hope promising to sparkle in all of the multitudinous hues of a delectable reality, it was the balsam drop of infinite sweetness, and in the end, it was the magical vision, filled with a nimbus of smiles, adulation, and declarations that had emerged there in that den of desperation and despair to enliven the hours of insomnia and resuscitate Guevaras debilitated strength with a vivifying air. And from time to time, in the shape of little diabolical figurines, the silhouettes of Don Arnulfo, Don Cesreo, the consul general, and the rest of his fellow countrymen, in whose hearts his kind and diligent friend, Jacinto Peuela, thought he could find a trace of compassion, made gesticulations, wringed their hands, and did somersaults before the prisoners own eyes in order to insert themselves into the circumvolutions of his imaginative mind. It would have been impossible for Lucas, himself, to try to explain all

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of the impressions, conjectures, delusions, contradictory ideas, fears, and dreams that grabbed hold of his soul during the interminable, quiet, and lugubrious hours of that first night. He hurled himself into the pursuit of the ideal of freedom, with the sweet hope of actually seeing it realized; he reached the point of forgetting about his painful and precarious situation; and, the memory of those hyenas who had not wanted to contribute to the prisoners liberation vanishing in his mind, he observed the appearance of the first lights of dawn, which were not as brilliant nor as full of adoration as the aurora that had inundated his spirit with a magical shine since the previous afternoon. That he was not the victim of his own imagination, but, to the contrary, that all he had seen and heard and felt was unequivocally real, became evident to him when the hand of his jailer, from that day forward, became more humane and more delicate; the food which they served him was choice and nutritious; his mattresses, soft; his pillows, smooth; and comfortable bedspreads replaced the prisoners customary ones; and, without fail, every day, rain or shine, for the span of those three weeks, Mrs. Hendricks went to brighten Guevaras solitude with her presence. Thus, Lucas had cigarettes to smoke, periodicals to read, sweets to enjoy, and his squalid wardrobe was augmented by an influx of brand-new clothes. If not with the same assiduity as Mrs. Hendricks, then certainly with commendable regularity, Jacinto Peuela visited Lucas; however, these meetingsalthough appreciateddid not help to raise Lucass spirits, but rather increased the amount of bile and hate that circulated through the arteries of those two comrades; and, utilizing sorts of epithets not recorded in any dictionary, Peuela went on to take up arms against Seor de Albornozs shameless ancestry, Seor Jimenos abject hypocrisy, and the consul generals dictatorial insolence. Once the prison term had been served, Lucas Guevara was declared a free citizen and the gates of the prison opened up for him. Upon leaving, a coach awaited him presently occupied by an elegant and large woman who the freed man recognized as his generous benefactor. After a long ride through the avenues and boulevards, the postillion, giving his order with authority, brought the trot of the horses to a halt in front of the tall apartment building where Mrs. Hendricks made her residence. Inside, Lucas encountered the hospitable roof that would shelter him;

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everything had been prepared for him with due anticipation; and, without having recovered from one surprise before another larger one, not much time transpired before he would begin to delight in the ineffable delicacies of conjugal life. Anyone who might have caught a glimpse of Lucas Guevara shortly after his departure from prison would have found it difficult to recognize him. Such a transformation could have only happened under truly exceptional circumstances; however, truly exceptional circumstances surrounded him. In the arms of wise and discrete philosophies, he had accepted the prosperity that happy fortune had heaped onto his way. For the moment, what desire was left unsatisfied? Or, at least, what daily necessity went unfulfilled? Not one. His perspectives on life had changed, as if by magic, from sorrowful and uncertain to tranquil and rosy. The needs of his stomach were satisfied; he could count on a pleasant shelter to protect him against the rigors of the changing seasons; the warmth of his loving companion filled his evenings with happiness; without having to endure the humiliation of asking Seor Jimeno for favors, he had the indispensable resources at his disposal to frequent restaurants and attend the theatre; and, as for his physical appearance, that is, as for the demands of fashion which, once fulfilled, place one at a higher station of social regard, little remained for him to covet: from fine, low-cut shoes to high-crowned hats, all was paid for with a monetary appeal, due to motives which are easily understood, to Mrs. Hendricks idiosyncratic generosity. Oh! What things that feminine caprice is capable of! Blessed are those who, shipwrecked on storm-tossed seas like those of Lucas, are able to grab hold of a lifesaving log! And blessed are those who possess the gift of inspiring particular passions and then come across those people who are thirsty for the infinite sensations they search for in the shadows of those caprices! Nevertheless, it is true that in certain cases, with regard to the sensations born of those strange impulses, the attraction of the two magnetos does not always mutually respond to the oppressive current; however, in Lucass particular situation, he would have to step beyond the boundaries of insanity if he did not accept these acts of kindness with joy and goodwill, and did not playwith skill and diplomacythe part which presently corresponded to him in this new tragi-comical farce in which he was obligated to perform.

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On more than one occasion, Guevara had the misfortune of accidentally running into Seor de Albornoz. Like two leopards ready to devour each other, they sized each other up from head to toe; they cast sparks at each other with their eyes; and, judging himself to be better situated than his adversary, each one lost himself in the tumult without causing any appreciable damage. As luck would have it, Seor Jimeno, in the company of his wife, once found himself in the dining room of the same hotel where Lucas and Mrs. Hendricks had gone to take pleasure in those epicurean delights. And the two were seated directly across from each other. Oh! What an awful moment for the commodities broker! And how wonderful for Lucas! His impertinent and contemptuous insolence had turned the delicacies Don Arnulfo was eating into a bitter pill to swallow, sure to cause him a formidable indigestion; for, with a reddened face and without waiting to finish his last gulp of coffee, he took his leave from the premises with a hurried step, stopping only for a moment at the door in order to cast a deadly glare upon Lucas, to which both Lucas and Mrs. Hendricks, who was extremely interested in the episode, responded with a burst of laughter. Of course, one can assume that Seor Jimeno thought it prudent not to provoke a scandal, perhaps because the memory of the disaster which had befallen Don Cesreo rushed to his memory, and he took the precaution of counting the numbers of carafes and wine bottles adorning the table of the two dinner companions.

XXX
On one of those spring mornings, when the ambient temperatures inspire one to luxuriate in the joys of bed, and when Lucas relished the last remaining caresses of Morpheus alongside his amiable friend and protectress, the electric doorbells whizzing sound and a whistle blown announced that the postman had just left a few letters in the mailbox that corresponded to Mrs. Hendricks apartment. The couple paid no special attention to daily occurrences such as these, and it was only after they got out of bed that a missive reached Lucass hands in which Jacinto Peuela notified him of the arrival of Don Emeterio Madrin P., a Santa Catalina businessman who wished to have a word with him. Feeding the hope that this visitor might be the courier of some of those gifts of cold, hard cash that his mother used to send him when it was possible for her to scoff at the orders to the contrary she had received from Don Andrs, immediately after finishing his breakfast, Lucas directed his steps to the Hotel Norte Americano in search of Seor Madrin P. Don Emeterio was a gentleman, a man of about fifty to fifty-four years
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of age, of average height but not entirely thin build, and very loquacious in his verbal communication, which was a sure indicator that he had sat behind the bar bamboozling people for many years. He wore a suit that was not very different in style or cut from the one which Lucas was wearing when he first set foot on North American soil; the only differences that could be observed were his tie pin made with an American five-dollar coin, a solid gold watch fob that swung from his robust vest, and two bands on the ring finger of his left hand: one was plain, the symbol of matrimony, and the other had a two- or three-carat diamond, an exquisite stone, whose brilliance was a bit tarnished due to a lack of cleaning, striking a stark contrast to the thick and overgrown fingernails on his hands, beneath which agglomerated grease and calcium deposits in a profoundly pronounced black tincture that, under Pasteurs microscope, would have revealed the microbes of more than a dozen parasitic diseases. As soon as Don Emeterio recognized Lucas, he rushed to him headlong in a frenzy of affection; he threw his arms around Lucass neck; and, his initial salutation was so excessively sentimental that he nearly choked his compatriot. Following this enthusiastic embrace, a torrent of deafening exclamations ensued, even startling the other tenants of the boardinghouse where, as everyone knows, this is not the most dignified manner to hold a conversation the establishment recommends for its guests and managers. This was all a result of the fact that Seor Madrin P., no doubt, could not contain the astonishment that he felt upon witnessing the radical change Lucas had undergone. My word! If you havent just gone and turned yourself into a Yankee! Don Emeterio shouted at the top of his lungs while giving him another formidable embrace. Once the first wave of attack, consisting of more than five minutes of martyrdom for Lucass rib cage, had finally subsided, the businessman went on to inform him about the particular sort of relationship he maintained with Don Andrs and his family. Then, adopting an aspect of severity that was not consistent with the aggrandizement of the first few moments, he made manifest that he bore with him Don Andrs and Dr. Galndezs direct order to take him out of New York City and return him to the paternal hearth, which had been filled with nothing but suffering and desolation from the moment that they learned from the noble Seor Jimeno and the kind Don Cesreo that Lucas had refused to follow their

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parental indications and had dedicated himself to a life of crime, drunkenness, and vice; the national press, serving as an additional source of evidence, had interpreted the articles published in the New York newspapers by those relentless reporters, and had helped the inhabitants of the Republic of *** to become aware of the gravity of the events that had occurred, with such an abundance of alarming details that the whole population was left slightly more than shocked. Moreover, the instructions given to Don Emeterio reached such an extreme that he was told to call the police in case the young man refused to obey the intermediarys orders. Lucas listened to Seor Madrin P.s eloquent harangue with uncommon passivity. As soon as Guevara realized that he had reached his finishing touch, he began to speak, and with a calm and circumspect voice, Lucas expressed himself in the following manner: My parents, my uncle Galndez, and you, sir, are all gravely mistaken. What has happened to me and continues to happen in those court cases is that the judges never listen to us youngsters, because they consider it an article of faith to find in favor of the older folks, without having an idea what sort of people they really are. As for Seor Jimeno and Seor de Albornoz, they are spirits who have descended into the deepest abysses of disrepute and, wherever they tread, they leave nothing but noxious emanations. Because I have conclusive proof for each one of my words, a witness for each one of my deeds, and a growing echo whose reverberations have not diminished for each one of my sufferings, you, sir, are about to hear the plain and simple story of my life, from the day that I was tossed into this city just like a sack of coffee, until the present moment in which I relate these sorrowful revelations to you. And without omitting a single comma or embellishing a single period, Lucas Guevara displayed the dreadful picture before Seor Madrin P.s eyes. As for the articles published in those periodicals in my country, he added with a scornful tone, they dont surprise me. And they dont concern me either. Its a well-known fact that there are journalists in that country who have no reputation to lose. Over there, anyone who has cracked the spine of two or three cytological texts considers himself in his rights to become a reporter. And since the minds of those journalistic upstarts arent provided with any other material to discuss or criticize, they look for lascivious delights in the arms of scandal. They believe that theyre not fulfilling their self-imposed mission if they dont sprinkle the public with the

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dirt they trudged up. And now that you have heard what you needed to hear, if you even think about trying to take such extreme measures with me, leaving me without any other form of defense, I must remind you, sir, that we are walking on the free land of North American soil; I am of age, the master of my own deeds and actions; and I can take shelter under the wing of the law. Moreover, because I know that the only reason youre doing this is out of obligation to my family, and you surely live by occupying yourself with your own business concerns and not those of others, you will allow me to suggest that you not stick your nose in other peoples business, because your meddling could cost you more headaches than you have bargained for. Lets be friends and see if, with my knowledge and acquired experience of the city, I am able to help you in some way, which would be my pleasure. Otherwise, there is no further reason for me to prolong this conversation. Seor Madrin P. was left stupefied upon hearing Lucas express himself with such independence and sans faon. While Guevara was speaking, Seor Madrin P. twitched nervously in his chair, his expressions seemingly demonstrating that he doubted the veracity of Lucass tale, and, perhaps, inside, he felt Guevara had provoked said incident. He was informed that, in the United States, young people between ten to fifteen years of age speak to their parents in this fashion, but he did not think that such irreverence could be taken to such extremes. Because he was a practical man who did not find it prudent to throw any more responsibilities on his shoulders than were necessary to endure, and because he did not have any vested interest in the matter, he resolved to follow Lucass advice, satisfying himself with having completed the errand given to him in Santa Catalina, even if he could not bring about the desired results. Like two dear, old chums, therefore, they began to chat about other less disagreeable issues. They agreed, upon bringing the visit to a close, that Lucas would serve as a propitious guide for Don Emeterio, for as long as he found it necessary, due to his business concerns, to remain in that North American metropolis. This opportune offer was just as convenient for Lucas as it was for Seor Madrin P., for during the short period of time he had stayed in the city, he had become aware of the fact that the tumult and vertiginous movement of the populacesomething extremely different to what is observed in Santa Catalinahad him feeling dizzy and completely bewildered. And it would be much more difficult than what he had been told to throw him-

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self, without Theseus mythological ball of twine, into the complex labyrinth of avenues and boulevards; at least, this way, he would not place his fate in the hands of some stranger, or rather one of so many professional filchers, who, with Virgils character and with fewer scruples than Don Cesreo de Albornoz or Jacinto Peuela, attack neophytes in the hallways of their hotels.

XXXI
There is no doubt that Seor Madrin P. aspired to appear to be a model citizen before the public conscience. Judging by what he had affirmed, Don Emeterio had but one Achilles heal: his family, that is to say, the angelical female companion whom he was obligated to leave in charge not only of their eight children that their matrimonial fate had provided them, but she was also responsible for the sowing of the fields, caring for the livestock, and all other matters he was engaged in back in his native land. To think that Don Emeterio could commit an act of conjugal infidelity, never! The strongest of his desires, after satisfying his curiosity as a tourist and shopping for merchandise, which was the main objective for his visit to New York, was intrinsically bound up with the idea of returning without delay to the side of his consort, whose absence was an enticement that tore his soul into pieces, made him lose his appetite, and caused him to lose sleep at night. When Lucas heard Seor Madrin P. describe his domestic tranquility and the way in which he relished fulfilling his responsibilities as a hus-

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band in this way, he thought that, despite the great convulsions that had stirred up the Republic of *** and the temptations cities like Paris and New York can offer, there were still people who resisted the daily provocations of sin, and serve, for the meantime, as the unyielding bulwarks of society. In the end, although this rare anomaly seemed quite strange to him, Lucas did not fail to admire and applaud him for it. Nevertheless, in spite of Don Emeterios virtuous declarations, Lucas very often noted that, when walking down the streets or traveling in some vehicle of locomotion, the model husband cast a gaze of uncommon insistency upon any provocative-looking female who was able to come within the understood boundaries of his visual orbit. On one afternoon when the two compatriots were walking and mingling among the crowd of women populating the avenues where grand department stores abound, and when Seor Madrin P. could not conceal the nervous excitation that was produced in his body by the diversity of feminine figures that crisscrossed each other in every direction; by the smells emitted from those shivering breasts that the seasonal heat kept wet with sweat; by the natural voluptuousness of hundreds of Eves who delighted in calling the attention of strangers to themselves; and, finally, by the ambience that is capable of resurrecting sensations dead in bodies atrophied by age or abuse. Emotions ran so high that Lucas could not contain himself any longer, and even at the risk of starting a ruckus, he asked Don Emeterio, You like all these New York ladies, dont you? Be careful, though. You dont want your wife to find out. Oh! exclaimed Seor Madrin P., I would be a man of poor taste if I did not admire their exquisite beauty, but you must realize that my sentiments do not go beyond a simple admiration. It starts with admiration, but it ends up in the bedroom, Guevara insisted. Im not suggesting that it doesnt happen to others, replied Don Emeterio, but that doesnt pertain to me. Me, unfaithful to my wife? Never! Just imagine how she must feel right now, the poor girl, missing me so. The day we parted, she placed a scapular around my neck for me to wear and, crying a sea of tears, she told me, This is so the Sacred Heart of Jesus will protect you from any impure thoughts. And I swore to her that I would not take any false steps due to my virtue, due to my character. For it seems to

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me that an adulterer is just as despicable as an adulteress. Saint Anthony doesnt exactly have you in his mitts, Lucas objected, looking at his fellow countryman out of the corner of his eye. No, sir. What I have said doesnt mean that I am entirely immune to the natural impulses of the human body; to the contrary, I rather enjoy studying and observing different phenomena . . . And, because one of those alluring houriswho hike up their skirts and show off half a calf, and who appear to possess a snare in each one of the pores on their bodies with which they combine hearts with desires passed by at that very moment and lightly brushed Don Emeterios arm, Lucas asked his companion, pointing the young lady out to him, Wouldnt you just like to study and observe a phenomenon like that one? Well, I dont mind if I do, responded Don Emeterio, because, frankly speaking, I would like to find the opportunity to see up close one of those places where I have been told that they trade in modesties; and I would like to see them, because . . . in a word, a man should be somewhat knowledgeable about everything, even about dens of iniquity, in order to learn to better appreciate virtue. Perhaps there are people who frequent those rubbish heaps due to a nature devoid of moral notions; then there are others, like myself, who would go to conduct a formal study, as I have previously explained. Well, we can go to school whenever youd like, Lucas replied ironically. It is truly incredible, he thought to himself, the places where the scholarly spirits of certain people can lead them. Many people beneath the skies above their native parish worry very little or not at all about conducting sociological or psychological investigations, and they are content with only possessing the knowledge which the Catechism of the Catholic Church procures for them; however, as soon as they set foot on foreign soil, they feel a hunger and a yearning for new experiences; and it is worth noting that such avidity is not included in many branches of human knowledge, but rather, it is fully and concretely observed in the spheres of study and observation which inspired Don Emeterio. With tact and cunning, Lucas was able to interest Seor Madrin P. in hearing a description of some of those establishments, whichthe truth be knowndo not serve as fortresses of virtue, so vividly painting the diversity of people, costumes, customs, and scenes that are seen inside, that any-

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one who feels a natural inclination toward psychological studies would have easily observed in the physical expressions of the businessman from Santa Catalina something more than the mere feelings of curiosity or the inquisitiveness of a tourist. Goodness gracious! exclaimed Seor Madrin P. This cannot be! The level of depravation could not have climbed to such lofty peaks! What grievous errors have we fallen into in our country to send innocent young men away to coalesce like a blade of grass in a pasture of vice! If I may be perfectly frank, dear Lucas, though I do not doubt your word, allow me to suggest to you that such things must be seen to be believed. And only then can I truly appreciate the treasure of Christian morality that we possess in our native land. New York City may have more people and more trains and more houses and more electric lights and more hotels and more theatres than Santa Catalina; but, what does any of this matter, if it lacks our virtue? Well, Don Emeterio, just so that you can better consolidate your theories with regard to this particular matter, it would be beneficial for you to examine these habitats up close. You could easily do so. The entrance is free. And a man like yourself, who will later return home to open up the eyes of so many unhappy souls who are blind and bewail their lot in life, is obligated to perform the responsibilities imposed by social welfare and family honor. Without recognizing the sarcastic tone Lucas used to express himself, Seor Madrin P. interrupted him, saying, I couldnt agree with you more. It is imperative that I investigate those depraved conditions as soon as possible. And you can be sure that this study will be extremely beneficial for our fellow countrymen. By virtue of this conversation, it was agreed that on the evening of the following day, Lucas would secure the means for Don Emeterio to conduct the research he wished to do. And, absorbed in all of his intellectual musings about that unfamiliar landscape he had erected in his mind and whichbecoming flesh and bloodhe was going to be able to touch within twenty-four hours. Once he had taken his leave of Guevara, who reminded him not to miss their scheduled appointment, Seor Madrin P. directed his steps to the hotel. As much when he was enjoying his meal as when he struggled to fall asleepdedicating himself to the contemplation of the fruits he might pluck during his research projectthe image of his virtuous

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companion, whose absence he had mourned and to whom the incorruptible Don Emeterio had made an oath of unspoiled fidelity, certainly began to dissipate in the fields of his memories of conjugal affections.

XXXII
The places presently recommended by Lucas Guevara were not the sorts of establishments where, many years ago, through the initiative of his friend, Jacinto Peuela, Lucas made his debut in the vivacious and licentious life of New York City. Guevara now preferred, due to various reasons not worthy of mention, other social centers which he classified as more desirable and less dangerous; thus, it was to those locales that Lucas had grown accustomed to taking new arrivals, especially pupils like Don Emeterio Madrin P. with whom he had established cordial relationsfor some reason or anotheras soon as they made their appearance in the great metropolis, in order to initiate them in the exact same manner in which he himself was initiated. These were institutions which assumed a more private disposition, were less vulnerable to police sanction and, perhaps, even less averse to the code of public health. They were institutes governed by madams who adhered more closely to the principles of good taste. These establishments did not occupy an entire building, rather just an apartment that, due to its lack of sufficient space, would not allow for more than two or three tenants
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to stay permanently within its walls but was, nevertheless, prepared to provide transitory accommodations for three or four couples, with the additional convenience that if, on occasion, the number of those in attendance should exceed such number, there was a way to convert the dining room into a bedroom, thanks to one of those ingenious American furnishings that, with only the touch of a button, transforms a large sofa into a fluffy and comfortable bed. Another indispensable apparatus in that type of dwelling was the telephone; without it, they would have struggled to survive. It was the everhandy messenger, always quick to put the madam in communication with her friendly associates who helped facilitate her lifes calling by providing opportune satisfaction to public demands. As a general rule, those apartments, constituted by a small living room, two or three bedrooms, a dining room, a kitchen, and a water closet, were also equipped with elevators operated by complacent mulattos, who knew every intimate detail of the residents in the building and had the uncanny ability to ascertain who were its visitors and direct them to the floor which they were looking for. Upon pressing ones finger on a small button located on the door frame, the two poles of an electric battery were put into contact; the doorbell sounded; the door opened; and a tiny, dimly lit living room offered the visitor cozy armchairs and spacious divans overflowing with cushions. Visitors idled away their spare time around a central table adorned with artistic bric-a-brac, ashtrays and cartons of Turkish cigarettes in equal proportion, with which the madam of the establishment, and those whoin a manner of speaking had the right to smoke free of charge. Always ready to receive the caress of the fondling hands fond of Mozarts art, the white keys of a piano were on display; the faade was crowned with suggestive little terra-cotta figurines; and, from the walls hung not only photographs of more or less beautiful and provocative men and women whose countenances, perhaps, summoned to the madams mind the memory of some bygone and blissful era, but also portraits in which the paintbrush had idealized, or attempted to idealize, nude flesh with more impudence than those which could have sprung from the pallets of Rubens and Bougereau. But the visitors inquisitive eye was never satisfied with a simple view of the living room, and it always yearned to discover the mysteries or intimacies hidden behind thick damask curtains which veiled the entrance to the adjoining room; it was not difficult to satisfy ones curiosity, at least when there was no one there to occupy the room. It was a midnight retreat,

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coquettishly arranged in order to create a pretext for short-lived honeymoons. The furniture consisted of a bed with a polished copper parapet as shiny as a mirror; one or two chairs with velvety upholstery; and a gallant Venetian moon boudoir, on top of which pincushions, little boxes, perfume bottles, brushes, combs, boot fasteners, and perhaps even the portraits of a few privileged confidants were all accumulated; and, as usual, there was a pair of red slippers adorned with golden spangles starkly contrasting with the light-pink silk of the bedcover and the delicate hues of the carpet. Adjacent to that bedroom, there were one or two others, analogous to the one previously described, and all connected to each other. At the very back of the apartment, set apart in solid sideboard compartments, a halfglowing gas lamp illuminated articles of crystal, which were often condemned to convert themselves into broken pieces of glass on nights of revelry, to be replaced by the department stores on the following day. With a shiny black stove, a cupboard for food, a galvanized steel washbasin and a collection of frying pans, grills, and other various vessels hanging from the walls, the kitchen served as a sanctuary for the mulatto maid, who performed the complex duties of housekeeper, door person for the apartment, administrator of the storeroom and letter carrier when, for some particular reason, the madam did not consider it prudent to make use of the telephone. The refrigerator, or icebox, could be found next to the water closet, in which the snowy whiteness of a spacious and roomy porcelain bowl and a smaller depository not used for bathing glimmered in the foreground; towels of every size abounded, and numerous vials full of liquid disinfectants and paraphernalia used in the local showers were seen. Inside the refrigerator, in addition to blocks of frozen ice, were stored nutritious preserves, leftovers that could be consumed as an afternoon snack, bottles of whiskey, small pastries, and, especially, liquors that the name of Madame Veuve Clicquot have made immortal and that the names of Mumm, Met, and Chandon have also begun to immortalize as we speak. For Lucas Guevaras now refined tastes, these were the social centers that best satisfied his desires and that he preferred without exception for his nocturnal excursions with his compatriots who visited New York City for the first time, gentlemen who, as a general rule, before searching for the address of the house of worship most apropos for fulfilling their religious obligations, did not hesitate to solicit the most expedient and expeditious way to enjoy the aforementioned honor of consulting with the madams of the said apartments.

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As a means of, if not security, then at least precaution, when necessary, or when dusk approached or just a few minutes before his visit, Lucas put himself in contact by telephone with the madam of the establishment, whom he already knew; he indicated the number of future guests and, on certain occasions, he even went as far as giving her an idea of the idiosyncratic aesthetics of his companions who wished to procure for themselves the satisfaction of consorting with that amiable and acquiescent madam. Then, without any delay whatsoever, she would put the telephonic apparatus into operation. She made an appointment with the corresponding number of ladies that he requested to favor them with their presence. She advised her mulatto maid to keep the glasses, bottles, and corkscrews ready for the opportune moment. She attended to stocking the bedrooms with a sufficient supply of towels. She touched up her coiffure, making it more ethereal and artistic. And she lit a cigarette and dedicated herself to impatiently awaiting the advertised visitors. The proximity of the visit would not be an obstacle if an unexpected friend were to come calling, for she would greet him with excessive courtesy; then she would put him into contact with one of the ladies who had been previously invited and had arrived before the time of the appointment; and, in case she came to the conclusion that she would not be able to be ready in time to achieve the primary objective created by the invitation, she would either return to making use of the telephone, or she would dispatch the previously mentioned letter carrier to perform the invitational duties as quickly as possible. As soon as the visitors found themselves situated around the genial madam, the doorbell began to ring, and the invited ladies started to enter the apartment: some were blonde, others brunette. During the winter, they cloaked themselves in luxurious frocks and expensive furs; during the summer, they donned exotic and majestic gowns; they wore fine gloves over their hands; and, on their heads, they modeled chapeaus on which skillful artists had blended feathers and ribbons and flowers. With the goal of avoiding any excessively elaborate ceremonies, the introductions between those who had been forced to wait and those who had just arrived were made in a rather simple fashion, without shaking hands or striking any trivial conversation. It can almost be said that, upon first glance, their homogeneous dispositions were understood; and, as a result, the organization of couples, the approach and contact of the two sexes, and theone could saysimultaneous explosion of the first osculatory caresses were all also hasty matters. And since the madams cunning would lead her to inviting a larger num-

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ber of ladies to the soiree than would be able to correspond to the cipher of gentlemen who had been reported to her, as one might imagine, the result was that some of the women would have to go without a Dapper Dan; that is why they limited their efforts to directing mischievous glances and smiles to those whom they thought they could seduce and change their minds from the selections they had already madewhich, on many occasions, yielded the desired resultsand only when they were convinced that they were powerless to captivate a man with their charms did they finally decide to retire from the gathering, they did in a courteous manner, notwithstanding the cold and contemptuous inclination of their heads. After the rapid and satisfying sexual harmonizing followed the suggestions of the madam, or another one of the ladies present, of how pleasant it would be for the ladies to wet their whistles with a little sparkling champagne, the gentlemen could in no way turn a deaf ear to the customary enticement. The crowning moment for the mulatto maid to make her appearance on that stage had arrived, and she played her role with such talent and skill that she did not make a single mistake with regard to the number of glasses nor the quantity of the rations. Needless to say, she committed even fewer errors when calculating the bill, knowing, as she understood ahead of time, that each bottle would be necessarily charged at twice the price that one could purchase it for in a liquor store. As that bubbly wine flowed and they emptied and refilled their glasses, the tongues of those present would become animated. Because his acquaintances rarely spoke English, performing the role of interpreter frequently corresponded to Lucas, but, on occasion, some of them, carried away by the superior osseous frames and the tempting muscular composition of their female companions, would evoke the nine muses of Parnassus to burst into declarations of a truly romantic nature that the ladies could not understand nor did they wish to; and, further encouraged by the reasonable and mocking laughter, which the orators mistook as applause for their talents, they felt proud and self-satisfied for having been able to make manifest the gems of their poetic and recitative genius in front of such a select and agreeable audience. And as soon as the mulatto maid announced that the time had arrived for the couples to disperse, attentive to the madams indications, she kindled the gas lamps in the bedrooms, she prepared the divan in the dining room if she saw fit, she removed the empty or half-empty glasses from the living room, and she retired discreetly to the kitchen.

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The task of assigning the couples to their respective bedrooms belonged to the madam; once the doors were closed and the lamplight dimmed, she dedicated herself to keeping her mental accounting, in whose unwritten ledger there was no record bearing any relation to that bunch of lost women. Thus, a quiet tranquility reigned over the apartment, only disrupted, perhaps, by the muffled echo of an occasional joyous guffaw or by some vague and undefined sound. After a certain amount of time, usually not very long in duration, the door swung open once again, and through the narrow corridor, clouded in a melancholy penumbra, white figureswhose contours could not be precisely determined in that discrete semidarknessslipped by and crisscrossed each other en route to the water closet and the confines of their respective bedrooms. Later, when the vibrant voices of the roosters began to herald the morning sun, the living room was invaded once again by the couples who had just left it a few hours before; the ladies took their leave of their new acquaintances with relative amiability, and the soiree was brought to a close by way of an absolutely indispensable and regulatory epilogue, interpretable as the monetary offering with which the gentlemen were morally obliged to demonstrate their gratitude for the courtesies which the madam of the apartment had provided them.

XXXIII
Waiting nervously and impatiently for his friend Guevara, Don Emeterio quickly traversed the hotel hallway. The designated time for their appointment had already arrived but Lucas had yet to make his appearance. Seor Madrin P. walked to the front door and waited there for a few minutes and began to become frustrated as he saw his dreams fading away, but, as soon as he started to search for another way to conduct his research outside of Guevaras auspices, Lucas darkened his doorstep, sweaty and out of breath. He apologized for his tardiness, explaining that there had been a mishap with the vehicle of locomotion that had brought him from his home to the hotel. This was an excuse which Seor Madrin P. begrudgingly accepted, for he, like almost all of his fellow countrymen who were recent arrivals to New York, had not been able to fully conceptualize the enormity of the distances, and he innocently believed that everything in that cityfor the convenience of living, the ease of commerce, and the investigation of communitywas right around the corner, just like in Santa Catalina. Lucas asked Don Emeterio for permission to use the telephone; he explained that, in order to be more certain of not risking the loss of his
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opportunity, it was necessary to notify the madam of the establishment where he had planned to take him, so that she could have four or five female friends ready for the visitors, giving them the opportunity to choose. As soon as this stepwhich wisdom and experience had recommendedhad been taken, they hailed the first streetcar passing by the street corner and they commended their souls to Gods mercy: Seor Madrin P. preparing to conduct his research and Guevara, like any practical man, initiating a flirtation with a charming young miss with blonde hair and profoundly rubicund cheeks, who had happened to sit across from him on the streetcar and who, due to whimsy or some amorous impulse, appeared to answer to the insistent glares from that impromptu Don Juan. This was a transitory idyll, exactly like or very similar to those found on a daily basis when riding on the vehicles of locomotion used in the city, and on which those individualsyoung or old, appearing to originate from Hispano-American countriesoften became intolerable, coming to New York City with the idea that few women are capable of resisting their passionate provocations, and upon which these women cast their eyes, not so much because the manly ways of these gallant young men have seduced them, but rather because of the way that they speak in shouts, in a language which is foreign to them, can do no less than call their attention, and because each word is accompanied by every manner of gesticulation and of inexhaustible gymnastics of hands, arms, legs, and feet. When the streetcar reached the destination Lucas had chosen, the two passengers descended from the vehicle; after a few minutes, upon having ascended to the fifth or sixth floor of the building in an elevator, they stopped in front of a door on which a small aluminum plaque encased in a tiny gold frame was pressed with black characters bearing the name Mrs. Armstrong. Guevara pressed the electric button and the door opened reticently. Blocking the visitors way, an elegant lady appeared in the lintel of the doorway; upon recognizing Lucass figure, she let a smile spread across her jovial lips and stepped to one side so that they could enter. Mrs. Armstrong, the friendly and generous proprietress of the establishment, greeted each of her visitors with a kiss, instructed them to go into the living room and hastened to introduce them to three female companions who had been good enough to respond to the invitation she had made. They still wore their street attire and they had their hats and gloves on, probably

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because none of the three could be entirely sure if they would be obliged to stay for very long. On the other hand, Mrs. Armstrongs dress revealed that she was prepared for a long nights vigil and that she hoped to enjoy every comfort, forsaking any torturous corsets or other overly ornate accessories. A long, cream-colored, silk robe floated over her flowery blouse that did not provide any support for her voluptuous breasts, fastened at the waist with a blue ribbon sash, which was not tied securely enough to prevent two robust calves cloaked in fine stockings, two feet held captive in gray morocco sandals, and the silhouette of particularly provocative shapes that the established rules of modesty usually hide from human sight, from coming into public view with certain bodily movements. Lucas explained to all those present that Seor Madrin P. did not speak the language, and he asked for them to be patient with him and to treat him with the utmost consideration. One of them, the most keen, no doubt, or at least the most willing to adhere to Guevaras instructions, rose from the seat she had occupied and situated herself next to Don Emeterio, enveloping him in a long, expressive, and luxurious embrace. Oh! What a regal woman! exclaimed the Santa Catalina businessman, directing his comments to Lucas. Well, let the research begin, Guevara replied as, to Don Emeterios amazement, Mrs. Armstrong lit a cigarette and spread herself out on the armchair, allowing Lucass picaresque hands to become lost beneath the folds of her robe, while the two remaining women offered little resistance to the anatomical examination which Guevara was performing on them as well. These things truly must be seen to be believed, Don Emeterio shouted once more, as he also began to practice, with a particularly apparent timidity, the survey or tactile exploration of his female companions bust, and then, with a tender request, he took her body temperature with his lips. After a half hour of frolic and fondling, the moment arrived for the shadow of Bucchus to make its appearance on the stage. The young woman who had seduced Don Emeterio demonstrated her desire to drink a glass of champagne; and, depending on Lucas to interpret her opportune request, Seor Madrin P. understood what it was that she was after. This is a serious matter, indeed, Don Emeterio replied. Wouldnt they rather just have a beer? Stop dilly-dallying, responded Guevara. These women wouldnt

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drink beer, even if a doctor prescribed it to them. Well, what the hell. The day of reckoning is near, said Don Emeterio with a tone of conformity. Apparently, responded Lucas, there is no other option than to add another ten dollars to the expenditures for your trip. Before Guevara could give the sacred word, like the Commendatores Statue in Don Giovanni, appearing out of thin air, a corpulent mulatto maid materialized in the middle of the living room and unloaded a silver tray onto the central table, then removed the gilded lead capsule covering the bottle of champagne, which she quickly and gracefully uncorked; and around and around she went, with the aid of a tiller, doling out six champagne flutes, which surely had not been manufactured from Bacarat crystal, but nevertheless were appropriate enough to fulfill the role of their particular destiny. Once the contents of the bottle had been exhausted, Mrs. Armstrong had the good sense to tell them that they should not waste any more time on unproductive petting, which inspired Don Emeterio, with the help of Lucass linguistic intervention, to escort his female companion to the retreat that had been prepared to receive them. Seor Madrin P. did not need to be coaxed, and, accompanied by his jubilant mate, who had already found it opportune to divest herself of her gloves and hat, the couple disappeared down the winding corridor leading back to their discrete bedroom. Guevara, due to personal reasons not necessary to mention, explained to the madam of the establishment that he did not have any desire to conduct the same kind of study that Don Emeterio was about to perform. This was sufficient enough of a declaration for the other young ladies, subject to some natural frustration, to think it prudent to say goodnight and take their leave to search for other locations that would be, no doubt, more favorable to their professional occupations. Lucas and Mrs. Armstrong were found alone in the living room, where she smoked cigarettes as he spread himself out lengthwise on the divan. A little more than half an hour had transpired when the quiet tranquility of the apartment was shattered by indelicate screams for help. Before anyone had the opportunity to run to the place where said clamor had originated, Don Emeterios friend hurriedly entered the living room with long disheveled hair, swollen red eyes, and without even the proverbial fig leaf

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to cover certain organs. What is it? What happened? asked Mrs. Armstrong, visibly shaken. That man, she replied, with a stammering voice, after I had done everything he wanted me to do to him, tried to force me to perform the kind of indignities that I would not commit for all of the money in the world, much less for such a fiendish old man. Don Emeterio isnt the type of person who likes to conduct superficial investigations, Lucas thought to himself. Nevertheless, despite what he may have been able to surmise about his compatriots patriarchal virtues, he had never imagined that they were so feverous or exalted. As soon as she became aware of the events that had taken place, Mrs. Armstrong made an effort to calm the young lady down; and, while they were discussing and conversing about the incident, the figure of Seor Madrin P. appeared in the doorway. As one might suppose, in order to properly conduct his research with comfort and precision, he had found it necessary to remove all of his exterior clothing, including his boots. That is why he had only veiled his masculine form with an undershirt, which was originally white, but was presently a bit yellowish, upon which a chaplet and a scapular were both now evident; drawers made from a crude fabric somewhat more yellowish than his undershirt; and, over the lower extremities of his legs, suspended from strips of yarn designed to secure them, his stockings, partly white, partly gray, and partly covered in chocolate-colored stains, whose heels had endured more than a single mending and whose tips exhibited holes through which the nails on his two big toes peeked resolutely. Don Emeterios hair was also unkempt, and his own mustachevisibly wet had assumed a form that was not normal: lifeless and limp on one side, but proud and erect on the other. Once Seor Madrin P. was made aware of the accusations against him, he attempted to apologize to Lucas, assuring him that the young lady was exaggerating and that she was merely trying to get more money out of him than was customary, because that is what he had gathered from the signs she had made to him, but since he had refused to satisfy her pretensions, this gave birth to the scandal she had made. Guevara seemed to accept the explanation and, desirous of assisting in the unraveling of the tragi-comedy he had witnessed, he was able to convince Don Emeterios companion that it was not prudent to sever the relations, which had begun

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with such good omens and could prove beneficial to her on more than one occasion; for it was evident that Seor Madrin P.s research would require more than one session to complete. Mrs. Armstrong shared the same opinion as Lucas and considered it appropriate to indicate that the young lady should receive an additional fee, which Don Emeterio, in light of the predicament in which he found himself, no doubt, agreed to pay. Considering such favorable arguments, the young lady consented to returning to the bedroom as Don Emeterio followed behind her. The reconciliation was complete, as demonstrated by the fact that there were no more screams to be heard and by the fact that at the end of three-quarters of an hour, both man and woman presented themselves in the living room, not as they had before, but rather duly clothed, that is, cloaked in the same street attire they had been wearing when they exchanged their first kisses in that very place. The epilogue was brief. A number of bills were withdrawn from Don Emeterios wallet in the sum of twenty-five dollars, destined to be distributed in the following way: ten dollars went for the cost of the champagne and four dollars went to Mrs. Armstrong from the use that had been made of her bedroom. The remainder passed into the hands of Seor Madrin P.s friend as compensation for her instructional duties. Then came the farewells, accompanied by labial caresses which, although not as passionate as the first ones, were enough to demonstrate that any trace of resentment had since disappeared. Look at you, Don Emeterio, exclaimed Lucas as soon as they took to the street. You know, I never took you for being such a stallion. No one can hold a candle to you when it comes to this sort of research. It was nothing, my friend, replied Seor Madrin P. Its just that there are moments in life when one simply loses his head. The guilt will be sure to follow. So do you feel guilty? Not exactly. Because these things dont happen to me every day. So, what did you think of your instructor? Ah! She was fabulous! What a physique! What artistry! I dare say that I think that woman really does love me. Well, there are a million girls just like her. All you need here is the money.

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But I dont want to meet any other women. Believe me, you will. This dialogue was interrupted by the streetcar arriving at the corner. They mounted the car and, a short time later, said goodnight in front of the entrance to the Hotel Norte Americano. Lucas returned to the side of his friend, Mrs. Hendricks, who greeted him with a bitter scowl for having stayed out on the town until such late hours at night. Nevertheless, domestic tranquility was reestablished after the latecomer made his excuses, which, as one might imagine, were not true, but rather cleverly invented concoctions; then, the two prepared to go to bed turned out the light, and no one saw them again until nine oclock in the morning on the following day. Don Emeterio, for his part, before retiring to bed, devoted himself for more than an hour to the chore of drafting correspondence destined for Santa Catalina, because the next steamship departure had just been announced, and his conjugal obligations required him to fulfill the especially sacred duty of reiterating in writing the solemn vow of fidelity he had made to his angelic consort when the whirlwind of commerce had forced him to detach himself from his home and come to the United States.

XXXIV
Due to economic concerns, as well as the thoughtful advice of a number of his fellow countrymen who went to welcome him upon having been notified of his arrival in the city, Don Emeterio changed his place of residence; that is to say, he discontinued his stay at the Hotel Norte Americano and transferred himself to a boardinghouse frequented by Hispano-American individuals, where he could enjoy family-style living, as they say. Because he suffered from the misfortune of not having a command of the English language, it was necessary for him, at every turn, to avail himself of the services of someone who would have at least made better use of the lessons provided by Olendorff and Robertson in their national schools, and someone who would consider themselves to possess the skills of a vizier in the environs of New York City. And where better to find such a valuable commodity than in a hotel where everyone spoke Spanish? Of course, there was no shortage of male tenants who Seor Madrin P. could depend on in order to get him out of a bind; although they may have been even less skillful at the use of the language of Milton than Don Emeterio, they did, however, work diligently at presenting themselves to Seor Madrin P. as knowledgeable expertsthanks to their feelings of
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generosity and even a pardonable degree of petulancenot only in certain social customs, but also in the very language itself, due to the fact that they had preceeded Don Emeterio on the voyage to North American shores by a number of weeks. This fine gentleman, who continued to open his mouth wide with astonishment upon witnessing everything that surrounded him, was no less surprised when each one of his compatriots made some manifestation of what he perceived to be a wealth of wisdom and intelligence. The boardinghouse where Don Emeterio found lodging was like a holy Mecca for him. Only the Castilian tongue was used inside its walls, and it was spoken in shouts, with excessive rhetoric, just the way he liked it. There were residents of various Hispano-American nationalities: stripling young men, who were cadets at some military academy or students at some Jesuit school; married men, who were faithfully wed to the precepts of holy matrimony, not so much as a result of their virtue, perhaps, as much for aesthetic considerations; honorable matrons, who generally belonged to the society of intolerable mother-in-laws; the chronically ill, who, inspired by the international acclaim of American medicine, resolved to go and place their bodies under the blade of Yankee scalpels, and in many cases once informed about the nature of the malady they were suffering, disguised by the noxious odor of iodoform or carbolic acid, they often met the fate of ending up in the hands of not some famous American physician, but rather in the care of some charlatan or butcher from their own race who is less qualified but certainly more expensive and more inconsiderate than the doctors in their native countries; old spinsters, who were active stewards of world history and who admired or scorned the male tenants in proportion to the greater or lesser amount of flattery and attention they showed; businessmen, who have parted from their native shores for the first time and travel to the United States with the goal of putting a few Yankees up their sleeves; politicians, who aspired to glean more efficient forms of administration and government from American leaders, while they were too often discovered acting as agents of conspiracy or revolution against the heads of state of their own countries; members of the fraternity of the priesthood, usually en route to Rome, who would remove their sacramental vestments and who, instead of passing through the church doors, would embark on missions, like any local boy and with greater avidity than the common man, of the same nature as those selected by Peuela on that memorable night

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when Lucas Guevara first lost his virginity, or like the night when a thirst for investigative research had led Seor Emeterio Madrin P. to draft an eloquent declaration of his conjugal fidelity; venture capitalists, who could not explain why they were not able to locate a buyer for some patent pending, such as sandals made from banana peels, for example, and who were forced to return to their native land, yelling at the tops of their lungs that the Yankees were imbeciles; legendary local artists, who sought to have the tambourine figured among the instruments in an orchestra, and who, because they were unable to achieve their objective, swore by heaven and earth that, as soon as they returned to their countries, they would cause the national presses to resound with their denouncements of the idiocy and anti-artistic sentiments of those who have inherited Washingtons glories; military officers, who disembarked from their respective steamships with their swords in their scabbards, wearing combat boots and a pair of gun holsters, and who refused to accept that they should not walk down the streets donning such attire; at least half a dozen young whippersnappers, who heavily contributed to the excitement and din within the boardinghouse with their pranks, shrieks, and mischievous behavior; in a word, there was a kaleidoscope of people of both sexes, representing every shade of skin color and every style and manner of dress. There was a characteristic smell in the air: mingling with the penetrating odor of the cooking dispelled from the kitchen, certain emanations demonstrated that soap and water were utilized with extreme paucity, the aromas emitted from some cosmetic concoctions in whose confection the hands of a pharmacist had intervened, and renal secretions which remained in the depositories for longer than the rules of hygiene recommended due to forgetfulness or some analogous reason. The view inside the bedrooms was no less intriguing. The bedsheets would surprise no one with their whiteness, but the chaotic disarray in which they were found just might. Among the sheets and bedspreads, which were bundled together and huddled up as if they had been frightened by the mattresses and pillows, one could spot corsets stained in shades of yellow and gray with sweat, stockings of every color, knickers as well as all manner of masculine apparel; along the walls, there were half-closed trunks and suitcases; cardboard boxes were heaped in the corners and dispersed about the floor, shoes and slippers, burned out matches, a healthy quantity of papers,

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and chamber pots overflowing with pear and orange peels could be seen. On the boudoirs and tabletops, the ensemble was no less heterogeneous: in addition to the personal items, which were either completely used up or still waiting for their turn to be utilized, there were vials of medicine, department store advertisements, hotel bulletins, catalogues from a variety of manufacturers, little Velutine powder boxes, bottles of Agua Florida or Kananga, and photographs of groups taken at some photo booth in Coney Island. At mealtime, the dining room turned into pandemonium: the person with the best pair of lungs was considered the most fortunate. The residents discussed politics, religion, and social events; everyone was interested in telling their own heroic tales of the events in which they had played a part or had witnessed over the course of the day; they expressed the impressions they had felt upon visiting a particular place, purchasing a certain item, or planning a specific project still in its embryonic phase; and they were always sure to allow the name of some fellow countryman who was not present to trickle into the conversation, the tongues of the dinner companions falling upon the hapless soul like the scalpels of anatomy students, converted into something less than a cadaver exposed in an amphitheatre. Don Emeterio was very pleased to have found himself living at that location; he was able to considerably augment the number of his acquaintances; he entered into intimate relations, which appeared to take on an amorous tincture, with one or two young ladies; he began to rub elbows with Hispano-American Aesculapiuses, gods of medicine and dentistry, who took advantage of the mealtimes to make their rounds to those establishments in order to find patients, modestly applauding their own professional abilities before the hordes of tenants who, with their mouths half full, crammed into the boardinghouse dining room in order to eat their meals, where they continued their open debate until overcome by sleep or their tongues grew weary of speaking; he came across a number of visitors there, who were of the same race and religion, and wholate at night and tired of the dinner conversation or of the noisy songs and dancing accompanied by pianos whose blackened and greasy keys painfully operated the disfigured hammersperhaps as a matter of hygiene, sneaked out of the dining room and into the arms of some Jacinto Peuelawho was never in short supplygoing to some place where they could make their Don Juanesque aptitudes evident along the avenues, and after a few strolls around the park,

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ending up caught in the clutches of some nocturnal bird of prey to go and quench the generative thirsts that consumed them in the little hotels of the vicinity, and at breakfast time on the following morning, relating the inconceivable magnitude of their conquest to their boardinghouse companions with an air of triumph and satisfaction, even thoughin less than a week they would be forced to pay a visit to the neighborhood pharmacy to fend off the spoils of their glorious victory. Needless to say, Don Emeterio could not prevent himself from those very practices; and because he was unable to protect himself from the malevolent consequences of his nocturnal gallivants, it became clear to him that he would have to prolong his stay in New York and generously contribute to the monetary support of a disciple of Galen, whom he had the honor of meeting while at the boardinghouse, and whoso that his professional knowledge would be better appreciatedshowed no scruples whatsoever when informing the public about the nature of Seor Madrin P.s disease, a breech of trust which had called Don Emeterios spotless reputation into question.

XXXV
It was already going on two years that Lucas had resided beneath Mrs. Hendricks hospitable roof. And if it is true that during this time Lucas had not been forced to navigate any treacherous waters, notwithstanding the fact that, after their fleeting honeymoon had ended, at least twice a monthjustified or nothis consort suffered from violent outbursts, provoked either by her neurasthenic temperament or by an excess of libations, it is also true that, as soon as said impulses had subsided, tranquility once again reigned over the household; and the bed, an efficient pacifier and arbitrator during domestic disputes, shone like a new rainbow above his cloudy horizons. It would not be too much to note that the aforementioned interruptions to the vegetative harmony between those pseudo-spousesor rather, those transitory pilgrimsproved beneficial for Lucas; for even when those arguments brought a somber entourage of painful contusions and lacerations along with them, they did permit Guevara to enjoy the sexual repose neces177

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sary for him to prevent himself from suffering some infallible consumption. Philosophically and diplomatically considering his circumstances, as it was necessary for Lucas to do, the precarious situation in which he had placed himself when Mrs. Hendricks had taken him in became evident: the shelter that she offered appeared before him like an oasis in the desert of affection and people surrounding him, and it did not matter to him that from time to time some Simoun would come to damage his male ego. During this time it was possible for him to get at least a small taste of the life one leads when operating in higher spheres than those he had known up until that point. He dressed respectably; and that, as is well known, constitutes one of the keys to penetrating certain strongholds and strengthening certain relationships. Mrs. Hendricks, who lavished in ostentatiousness and could afford the luxury of paying a seamstress eighty to one hundred dollars for a dress and twenty-five to thirty dollars for a chapeau, loosened her purse strings, so that her companion would not be embarrassed or feel humiliated by any contrast in their dress, and so that Lucas would not call any negative attention due to his squalid or threadbare attire. In the same way, she provided him with an occasional banknote, emphasizing her generosity on those particular occasions when, thanks to some neuropathic whim, she wished to procure for herself more intimate or more eccentric satisfactions than usual. That was when Lucas, showing no traits in his physical appearance that would cause any embarrassment, was able to frequent the grand hotels, if not to figure among the guests, then to simply occupy one of the seats on the sofas in the hallways and intoxicate himself with the air that took handfuls of squandered money to saturate with perfume and cheer. He was able to witness, firsthand, the parade of high priestesses of fashion and refinement in whose temples no man treaded without bearing the offering of a wallet stuffed with a hypertrophy of greenbacks. He could provide himself with the pleasure of visiting social centers where the cost of the drinks one enjoyed or the repast consumed were higher than a servants salary, and where, perhaps, the only discordant or comical note struck by the nouveau riche who attended the Hispano-American beaches, and who, possessing enough financial resources to afford the prices, considered themselves to have the right to take every manner of liberty; making their presence felt with thunderous shouts and ending up by occupying a seat at the table of fine restaurants in their skivvies, as they say, without taking the precaution

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of washing their hands or shaving their faces; and, perhaps, this is how, after dispensing with the indispensable little balls of bread crumbs, they were able to commit the faux pas of believing it apropos to brandish some pocketknife or toothpick and practice disgusting and rude habits of personal hygiene, without any consideration whatsoever as to the repugnance which such presumptuousness might cause; then, while attempting to strike up some platonic love with the chambermaids and telephone operators, they went beyond the limits of the most insufferable foolishness; and, if deprived of the use of the credit provided to indulge in this sort of frivolity, they would be converted into something less than a vagabond on account of their innate worthlessness. A multitude of the kind of Seor Jimenos that Lucas was familiar with could be spotted there, not yet haughty or unruly, but rather accommodating and acquiescent to the demands of the new arrivals, hoping to performin their capacity as commodities brokers, bankers, and reputable businessmenthe same services as the Don Cesreo de Albornozes and the Jacinto Peuelas were able to provide, but, of course, with greater efficiency. Lucas had the opportunity there to delight himself with the indescribable spectacle of the hordes of people who carried full-dress uniforms and three-cornered hats with ostrich feathers in their luggage and valises, traveling to the United States or en route to Europe in order to represent their respective governments in the spheres of diplomacy; they could be distinguished by the darkness of their skin and by an arrogance and vulgarity so frightening that no one would ever think that they were the leaders of organizations in nations whose governments were capable of bestowing such an honor upon them. Lucas took note that, regardless of the sojourners commercial, political, religious, social, or diplomatic disposition, when it came to conjugal fidelity and a quest for knowledge, they all followed Don Emeterio Madrin P.s edifying example when trying to gain an upper hand on virtue, with the one difference that, depending on the financial stability of the researcher, they were able to conduct their studies in books that were more comprehensive, due to their elevated costs, than the texts offered to the businessman from Santa Catalina. Lucas was able to get a close look at the procession of statesmen and military leaders, distinguished swashbucklers who often wielded sabers whose virginity had yet to be blemished and who had decided to come to the United States, in open opposition to the political processes of the gov-

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ernments in their own native lands, to raise the banner of revolution and pique the interests of American capitalists in their redemptive prospects, coming to the conclusion that these men lived in search of such ventures in order to increase their wealth and were always naively prepared to swallow the pill of commercial, territorial, and industrial concessions; but those Kosciuskos of contraband who should inspire a natural admiration were painted by the public opinion of civilized nations, not as saviors, but as savage warmongers. Lucas was able to see, without the use of a telescope, eminent political figures of his own race, who, after taking their place in the presidential curules and governing with some generosity and abnegation, upon relinquishing their throne, found it convenient not to trouble their successors with the chore of accounting for the remaining balance in the national treasury, and who had the pleasure of coming to find peaceful rest and security on the North American shores of freedom, where, if the praises of a glorious posterity were not sure to follow them, they could, at leastwithout fear that an avenging arm might snag their hidesdelight in the memory of the abuses they committed, the larceny they concealed, and the victims they immolated in their dungeons or while in exile. Lucas was able to admire them under those conditions, not donning their Caesarean tunics, but rather the meekness of a lamb, deprived of their Olympian gracefulness and, at best, attempting to constrain the neurasthenic outbursts, that had been the fear of a nation, and were now laughable monkey shines, inoffensive and provocative contortions, which, under different circumstances or while they were still in power, would have been terribly dangerous and ominous for the unfortunate subjects of their governance. After frequenting those social centers, it did not take Guevara very long to understand that it provided him the opportunity to become a figure in high society; for, on more than one occasion, he was granted the privilege of receiving circulars in which the consul general notified his compatriots that new changes in government had been fortunately made in the Republic of ***; that the new ministers were the ultimate expression of sapience and skill; that the country emulated the Arcadia of oldeven if a few days before the circular was published, they had received news that it had rained upon their parade, and blows with a garrote and prison terms were distributed with astonishing generosity. Because it was desirable for all of the constituents of the president of the Republic of *** to publicly make manifest

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their admiration and support for the government, the consul general requested each of his fellow countrymen to report to the Office of the Consulate in order to sign such an austere declaration. It was there that Lucas had been informed that there were instances in those palaces of luxury and good taste when a few guests from Guevaras own race and religion were on the brink of causing serious flooding in the building due to their misuse of the mechanisms in the washrooms; and there were still others, suffering from malaria or some cold, who claimed they could not use them, fearing that the water from any inevitable shower would cause them to become increasingly ill, and they demanded to be provided with other types of receptacles in order to avoid any accidents of that nature, which were more consistent with the standard practices of their respective native lands. Lucas was honored with invitations to join as a member of various Hispano-American associations, some literary, others political or even social, generally were hoping to organize or had already organized the bitter adversaries of Yankee imperialism, who believedperhaps due to their own atavismthat a citizen of Santa Catalina needed only to furrow his brow in order to send Washingtons government reeling and who thought that by printing circulars or making use of other similar techniques, they would be able to recruit a few dozen tobacconists or analogous members, so that under the name of The Pan American Alliance, The Circle of Free Nations, or some such titlethey could take an oath to uphold the authority of their religion and of their race, instead of recruiting members who spoke their language, for reasons which are easily understood. These were associations that usually had the good fortune of dissolving before they received official recognition, not only to avoid the repayment to members of fees fallen into the coffers of a particular anonymous treasurer, but also to protect their backs from being bruised by umbrellas, canes, and biceps mercilessly employed, with the corresponding accompaniment of insults and insolences, in an atmosphere of tumultuous debate, which attests to the cornucopia of these kinds of words that exist in the glorious Castilian language. Almost on a daily basis, Guevara experienced the delight of coming across other Lucases, and although they may not have shared his same baptismal or Christian names, they were, however, the exact reproductions of that Santa Catalina son when he first made his arrival in New York City; they were Lucases of different nationalities, but their appearances were

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identical, and, for each one, there was a Seor Jimeno or a Don Cesreo who dedicated himself to leading him by the nose, then sucking him dry; they were Lucases like himself, innocent, helpless, ignorant of the conditions in which they had come to find themselves, victims of circumstance and of an unforgivable lack of judgment, who were shipped out of their native lands like packages, without so much as a distinguishing mark or tag, while the senders remained on the familiar shores of their homelands, satisfied and secure in the knowledge that, simply by virtue of the names that the bundles bear, New York City would open wide its doors to welcome them, and the commodities firms that were responsible for them would send a carriage with a liveried postilion to the pier to greet them and escort them to their hotel. One can be sure that Mrs. Hendricks was not a rare breed either, for there were hundreds of women just like her who offered their eccentricities and their bodies to other Lucases, some motivated by hunger, others by gross depravity, who were able to pay for their rent by providing them the only thing that such women could have wanted from them: sex. In a word, wherever he was found to be reproduced, whenever he saw the scenes of his own life represented by other actors, on similar or on the very same stage, it often made Lucas smile when realizing that he did not represent the most advanced form of classic Guevaraism. It was, however, natural to anticipate that it would not be long before the black bird of death would once again slap Lucass face with the flapping of its wings. The rumblings of a none-too-distant storm began to be felt; the hand of generosity, which had previously been held open, slammed shut; he fell precipitously from his pedestal as a gentleman and terminated at a level perhaps even lower than that occupied by the Negro maidservant who was faithfully entrusted with the domestic duties; even their bed itself presented him with an incomprehensible aloofness, and there was no day that did not come with an accompaniment of daunting cloudy skies, that turned into, by the end of the day, rumpuses that converted Lucass cranial shell into a painful exhibition of bumps and bruises. The time finally came when Guevaras monastic submissiveness had come to an end. One night, almost drowned beneath the flood of Mrs. Hendricks nagging and throttling, Lucas ventured to raise his hand and unleash a furious assault upon the harpy who had mistreated him so. Who could do such a thing? His spiteful hand did not stop taking revenge upon her

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accursed mouth until a chair, lifted high in the air by way of the African maids Herculean strength, broke its beams over the back of Lucas, who, battered by the unexpected and violent blow, came crashing to the floor, unable to stand, as both Mrs. Hendricks and her maidservant rushed upon him and, with a deluge of kicks and blows to the head, they beat him to a senseless pulp, without enough breath in his lungs to even cry out for help. In that sorrowful condition, he was robbed of his watch, his ring, his tiepin, and of the few coins he had in his pockets. They did not remove his clothes, because they probably realized that his clothing was in such a state of disarray that it was not worth the trouble to do all of the required work. Then, they pushed and pulled him to the front door of the apartment; and once there, with one final shove, they threw him against the railing in the hallway and emphatically slammed the door, through whose slats the muffled echo of the most abominable blasphemy continued to be heard. The railing gave way under the weight of Lucass body, and after falling into the stairwell, he tumbled down until hitting the stair landing with such force and such noise that almost all of the tenants in the building, still in bedclothes, cautiously opened the doors to their respective residences, some armed with pistols and others with cudgels or any useful implement they had on hand; they lit the gas lanterns in the hallways; and, taking every imaginable precaution, they ascertained the cause of all the commotion. The more adventurous residents eventually stumbled upon the body of the victim, unconscious and bathed in blood. Hes a crook! some declared. Hes a drunk! said others. Hes dying, argued the most compassionate ones. Call the police! yelled the terrified women from the depths of their apartments. The police on patrol did in fact arrive in a hurry, nervous and out of breath, having just recently been awakened from their nocturnal contemplations by that disturbance that had disrupted the quiet solemnity of the darkness, brandishing high caliber revolvers in one hand and wielding the traditional nightsticks in the other. As soon as they confirmed that there was no suspect to apprehend, the police officers put away their weapons, made their way through the spectators by throwing their elbows, and, attentive to the indications of one of the bystanders, turned around and left the build-

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ing, directing their steps to the local precinct in order to call for an ambulance. The lugubrious ambulance arrived at the hurried trot of a lively charger; the physician who rode along with it performed a quick examination; then, without losing any time whatsoever, he placed Lucass disfigured body onto a stretcher; and, with the same swiftness with which it had arrived, the ambulance departed once again in the direction of the hospital. Although all of this had taken place during the wee hours of the morning, the throng of curiosity-seekers who had gathered in front of the entrance to the building became bigger and more crowded with each passing moment. There was scarcely a window in the neighborhood that was not illuminated, making it possible to see the silhouettes of people of both sexes who had been awakened from their tranquil sleep; and, without worrying themselves about the quasi-edenic dress they wore, they were unable to resist the temptation of formulating an opinion about the event. In the hospital, it was made clear that Lucass injuries were not serious and that the semi-catatonic state in which he was found was due to a blow he had received at the base of his cerebellum, probably when he had tumbled down the stairs and crashed against the pillars of the banister. On the following day, after recovering consciousness, the police proceeded to take Lucass legal statement, which caused the name of Mrs. Hendricks to appear in an affidavit summoning her to appear before the respective court. Luckily for her, she could exhibit the swelling of her upper lip and something even worse: a set of prosthetic teeth in which two incisors were found to be missing. Lucas remained under arrest in the hospital for the duration of his convalescence. However, not all was lost, for a compassionate star once again shone above him. The physician entrusted with his care took greater interest in Lucas than that which is generally observed in such cases; and, for this reason, he had the patience to listen to the succinct narration Guevara made for him with regard to the many vicissitudes of his life. The doctor understood, no doubt, that Lucas was no common criminal, nor was he one of the many depraved characters walking the streets of New York; and Lucass good Samaritan had the goodness of heart to believe that if he extended a helping hand to the fallen one, Guevara could reform himself and once again convert himself into a productive member of society. As a result of said motive, his first step was to hold an audience with Mrs. Hen-

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dricks in order to convince her that it was unkind and even unwise for her to allow that event to be made public and continue to torture the poor young man who had already suffered so much. Although not without some difficulty, Mrs. Hendricks agreed to not appear on the date appointed by the judge to hear the case; and, because she kept her word, on the day that Lucas was released from the hospital and turned over to police custody, as there was no one to press charges against him when he appeared in court and because the damage Mrs. Hendricks suffered was easily repaired by a dentist, the prisoner was allowed to go free.

XXXVI
There exists one particular place on the face of the earth that seems to have provided psychologists with a reason to affirm that women are one of the most perplexing puzzles to attempt to solve. Although it is possible that such a conclusion was the result of a particular male bias, because there is no shortage of people who share the opposite opinion, it is evident that the environment in which a woman is born and raised greatly contributes to the verification of the hypothesis proposed by the aforementioned psychologists. New York could provide evidence of this carefully examined phenomenon. In fact, women in New York, or rather, the victims of the specific conditions and peculiarities inherent in the feverish pace of life in that city, more than merely unresolvable paradoxes, are mysteries: they lack all possible moral definition and, even if there were a method to arrive at such a definition, they would take extreme care to avoid being thusly defined. As for their beauty, one can be sure that there are few if any who are able to surpass them; they are friendlier than all others, if given good reason to be so; voluptuous, they have perfected the art of voluptuousness; joyful, they are the sum of all joyfulness, especially when three or four glasses of wine have stimulated their nervous systems; they are lovers of luxury, worshippers of cleanliness, fecund in their logic, passionate about bonbons, aficionados of romance novels, all smiles among children, all heart among the elderly and with animals, andin one way or anotherweak
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when it comes to the opposite sex. They may know how to spell the word love, but they certainly do not know the organ in which it can be found; they never love anyone, because they do not want to be slaves to anything or anyone; of course, slavery has been dead for them here since the time of Lincoln, and now they share only one ideal: that of freedom, which controls their actions with even greater vigor and severity, from the very moment when Frdric Bartholdi, the sculptor, molded that effigy of a goddess of colossal proportions and it occurred to the French government to give it to the United States so that it could be erected in the New York harbor. To know what those female specimens are thinking would be the same as having the key to solve the squaring of a circle at ones fingertips; being sure that any man could charm a woman of that sort would be the equivalent of guaranteeing the discovery of the sorcerers stone. Everything about those women is a question of careful calculation and caprice. They feign love because through such deceit they are able to cause one to suffer an arrire-pense. What can one do? Only God in heaven and woman on earth are capable of comprehending their logic. They indulge in the greatest joys of love, because those gratifications constitute a sport for them, like lawn tennis, driving an automobile, or flexing ones muscles in a game of baseball. The women who decide to succumb to holy matrimony do so because such an act furnishes them with a constant companion to take them to the theatre; dine at restaurants; inspire jealousy and envy among their friends; give them the pleasure of imagining the prospect of a divorce, which would allow them to read their own names in the periodicals, and thus benefiting from free advertisement, which could prove useful in the future; and, finally, granting them the liberty to find a substitute for their spouses when the demands of the flesh require it, and availing themselves of every manner of indispensable immunities in case they come to suffer the consequences of conjugal life. The mixture of races, religions, tastes, aspirations, necessities, and even languages has turned these women into a morass. In the middle of the most passionate delights, in the throes of activities that seemed to have best suited their mood and whimsy, they turn their backs, become distant, run away from that location and never return again to call upon their old friends and companions, without feeling the tiniest amount of remorse upon their departure, without causing them the slightest blush because of their dis-

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courtesy, and without the pleasure they experienced creating the smallest wake in their memory. These women change their minds as quickly as an actor changes his costume; they pursue new dreams with the same energy that spins the arms of a windmill; they do not worry about what others might say, because they live in a place where the tumult drowns out everything, and where the law protects them with its mantel. Because they quickly hide their secrets from the sights of others, not even Aladdins magical lamp would be able to uncover them again; and, even if they were to be discovered, their characteristic indifference would make them immune. It is easily understood which women came from the aristocracy of money and which came from the democracy of poverty. Because the exigencies of this era have increased with each passing day, and because the caprices of fashion have become more aggressive with each passing year, these womens consequent needs, derived from said exigencies and caprices, have inspired in even the last members of the aforementioned hierarchies the hope of earning a salary; they find in their jobs, rather than the religion which saves souls, the resources necessary to satisfy certain social impositions, securing for themselves freedom from the domestic hearth and providing them with a pretext to be out of the house from eight or nine in the morning until all hours of the night. Converting the paternal home into a kind of hotel, these women use their jobs as an excuse, working in an office under the authority of some libertine bachelor or old married men with libidinous appetites; and, when collecting their weekly wages, they find it necessary to test the springs in their sofas before sitting in front of their typewriters again. It would be one of the biggest absurdities and one of the most unusual pretensions to attempt to understand the profound mysteries, ambiguities, inconsistencies, understandings, subtleties, peculiarities, and exorbitances that make up the souls of the vast majority of such women. When these women find themselves condemned to the uncomfortable and agitating jostling they are subjected to on the vehicles of locomotion, in which one cannot preventfor as much as they would like tothe intimate contact between the two sexes, men and women alike, squeezed, compressed, and their noses inhaling the various smells unleashed from their pores, which are of a similar nature to those secreted during passionate activities, the faces of this half of the human race have achieved such a state of indifference, as a result of such circumstances, that they extinguish as

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much of the graceful and noble characteristics that could be found therein; they kill any roots that might be able to provide sap or life for the plants of their generous affection; and they convert their hearts into sponges that do not affect their histological or moral constitution, regardless of it being dry or soaked in various liquids. This is the usual, customary, and typical kind of woman with whom foreigners, especially Hispano-Americans, manage to come into contact with in New York when looking for friendship and affection in social centers, such as theatres and circuses, that require one to purchase a ticket in order to have the right to view the spectacle. Since the upper classes, which a more or less strict favoritism makes inaccessible, cannot be penetrated except through the power of money and it is with money that they conceal their grievous tragedies, their pathetic dramas, their romantic comedies, and their shameless one-act farces the majority of foreigners cannot compete, because their economic resources do not permit them to, or because they cannot find the path that would allow them to scale such heights; and they are obligated to cast their eyes upon other realms and operate in them in one manner or another. The proprietresses of certain boardinghousesin particular, mothers of families who feel satisfied that they are free of worries because they are able to count on the salary received from an office whose nature they are generally unawareallow their daughter or daughters to contribute to the household expenditures, the cost of the seamstress, and the price of admission to the theatres, without having to provide for such necessities by taking banknotes out of their own purses, which are needed for spending on their personal accommodations. The women working in this or that industry, who spend their day performing manual labor, who complacently accept the continuous fondling of male workers, and who dedicate their evenings to whatever entertainment comes their way; the wives who feel nostalgic and alone whenever their husbands leave in the morning to attend to their matters of business, and who leave their homes after their husbands to kill the hours of the day by passing inspection on department stores and cafs, by keeping appointments whichif their husbands were to discover them would cause them to seek a divorce without hesitation, or by serving as a territory for the conquests of loafers; the widows who are slow to answer the call of human passion; in a word, this entire massimmense in number, varied in quality, adored for the ease with which they can be charmed

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more within the reach of men of modest means, less demanding and less prone to ridiculous etiquettes and social customs that are terribly costly, is everywhere and goes everywhere, thereby contributing to the fact that there is always and everywhere room for the Don Juans to extend the bonds of friendship, which are broken as easily and as quickly as they were made, only later to be cast into the bottomless sea of oblivion. Is it any wonder then how the romantic drama in which Lucas Guevara had played the part of the leading man, had come to such an end? It was not even the first time he starred on that very same stage, nor was it the first time that the other actors had performed the very same roles. Lucass friend, her caprice having been thusly satisfied, did not hesitate to cloak herself in the tunic of surfeit; she dreamed about new conquests; she aspired to new delights; and, without a hint of sorrow, she threw her transitory lover out into the street. The prism through which Lucas Guevara had perceived New York over the course of the last few months was shattered, and it now appeared like a relentless, murderous, and hideous phantom before his eyes.

XXXVII
Far from the commercial clamor in New York City, but still animated by the excitable effervescence of the carnal atmosphere, there is a vast stretch of coastline caressed by the waves of the ocean that during the scorching heat of summer is cooled by stiff breezes saturated with the smell of the sea. This joyous place, known by the name of Coney Island, is as large as a city: it has continued to grow thanks to the patronage of the multitudes of people able to find every sort of attraction there. Nothing speaks to the soul in that place: there is only room for the barbarism and sensationalism that create a diversion, but do not allow for prayerful thought, and make an impression, but do not leave enough time for fear or mortification. It could be said that Coney Island is a mask without a costume, a vertigo which only ceases to spin when ones energy and wallet have both been exhausted, an uninterrupted procession of distinct sensations, comic situations, every kind of entertainment, joy and laughter, perhaps, without even trying to hide the tears. Only one spiritual state could possibly synthesize such a heterogeneous mass: madness. As with everything else, on one hand, it is the madness of speculation that one reasons
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and figures, studies and analyzes; and, on the other hand, far from the cares of the world, one allows himself to speculate and not study or reason; two distinct types of who could not find refuge in the great centers of high finance because they would be harassed in such institutions, so they find their place in environments which are more favorable for them, where the clarity of the sun does not dissipate the intensity of certain shadows, and where the shade does not blush when permitted the light to penetrate the labyrinth of its depths. Only those who have endured the summers in New York can truly know what it feels like to be surrounded by fire. In the streets and public squares, on the terraces and in the parks, they search for the smallest breezes, but they look in vain: Mother Nature appears to be indifferent to the suffering of those who feel the torture of asphyxiation, as the heat claims a greater number of victims than an epidemic. Apartments are ovens where vital energies escape in pools of sweat. It becomes imperative to find a place with a gentler climate, and Coney Island is one of the places that fulfill such a requirement. Despite the innumerable vehicles of locomotion the public has at its disposal, it is always a difficult undertaking to make the journey comfortably if one cannot rely upon his own personal means, because the trains, steamboats, streetcars, etc., barely scratch the surface in transporting the multitudes. In the end, patience and practice will find some more or less expedient way; and, after having crossed many miles, Coney Island comes into the visitors view, displaying the silhouette of its multitudinous and heterogeneous edifices, its groves of trees dressed in every shade of the color green, its long avenues and its broad alleyways; and mingling among the musical echoes, happy voices and thunderous shouts, the confused and impotent murmur of that human wave can be felt there as it ebbs and flows in a nervous and imponderable tumult. It is like stepping into the eye of a hurricane. Next to the cabaret, a carrousel turns, and the chatter that rises from those who ride upon it drowns out the noise coming from the roller coaster. One next to the other, a person can see restaurants crowded with dinner guests; dance halls where hundreds of couples surrender themselves to the rapture of an immodest can can; the photo booths where they create portraits of people in the most unbelievable positions; the stages on which works of choreography are per-

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formed by ballerinas who have squandered pounds of vermilion in order to paint their faces and have filled their stockings and corsets full of cotton or silk in order to give voluptuousness to their figures, and who, because of the way they jump through the air and make pirouettes and lift up their tarlatan skirts, exchange picaresque smiles and double entendres with the spectators nearest to them. Then there is the luxury hotel, on whose terraces thousands of people who do not fret about the exorbitant prices they are being charged agglomerate; next to that stands the den of the necromantic, who, dressed in Oriental attire, attempts to delve into the secrets of life and predict future misgivings; then there are the shooting galleries, where one is permitted, by way of paying the requisite fee, to take five shots at a series of moving figurines, and if one of the projectiles hits one of the targets, the sharpshooters abilities are rewarded with a cigar that should not be smoked, but is, nevertheless, adorned with all of the distinctive markings and labels of those manufactured in the finest factories in Havana; there is the water ride that conceals its tracks with torrential waters, causing boats loaded with tourists to hit the surface of stagnant waters with violent declivity upon reaching the end of the ride, and like an elastic mass, the boats bounce two or more times throwing from their seats the passengers who enjoy those rides, and who allow the spectators watching from the sides to see the forbidden profiles that their skirts refuse to conceal with each of the boats tremendous collisions; the circus of acrobats; and the little hotels where one can find inedible meals and rooms for momentary visits at a low cost; the big tent, where troupes of Italians and strange Arabians perform particular dances and execute pirouettes that could even cause an officer of the peace to blush; the cinematographic theatre and the giant Ferris wheels, from whose radiuses hang cars holding the thrill seekers, and after elevating them to such tremendous heights, bring them back down to earth; and the sandlot, where they put monstrous animals and human monstrosities on display; the magicians who can make wallets disappear with the same ease they perform their tricks; and the taverns where beer and whiskey are consumed by the gallon; the stands from which they distribute those characteristic Coney Island hot dogs by the tons to the hungry masses, with a healthy dose of butter and peppers, enveloped in a freshly baked bun; and the traveling salesmen of all sorts of vittles and all kinds of odds and ends; and then there is the large theatre, which offers asylum to second- and third-rate

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actors; in a word, anything that an imagination starved for entertainment could ever hope to dream up. The amazing spectacle of Coney Island is offered to the masses, where there is no attraction that cannot be found, and where the extravagance of lights, in every form imaginable, appears to be the ultimate expression of electrical genius. People take excursions on miniature subway trains, experiencing the illusion of traveling to the moon in a scenic voyage that lasts for only a few minutes; descending into the Inferno through flames of signal flare light and in the custody of little Lucifers of flesh and bone, who do not squander the opportunity to catechize feminine souls willing to allow them to pull them into the depths of their washrooms as soon as the ride has come to an end; and entering into rooms where, as a kind of grimace of disdain for death and a consoling lesson about the science of maternity, they display incubators for children, through whose glass walls one can see microscopic life-forms attempting to receive from a machine those elements that the maternal breast had deprived them of, that is, the right to live, and later become, by way of an artificial heat lamp instead of the warm entrails which had created them, full members of society. On Coney Island one can find everything that the human imagination has been able to dream up in order to attract attention and make money; and one becomes excited there, in a dreadful competition resulting from that indescribable labyrinth, that heterogeneous mass, that drawing without outlines, that figure without contours. It is a shapeless agglomeration that delights, fatigues, enrages, makes one dizzy, drives one crazy, and stimulates the senses. The spectacles which are witnessed on one street are not very different from those that can be seen on the other streets, and they are the same as the ones which can be viewed on the cross streets. He who does not have the financial resources or does not have the desire to visit one of the cabarets can frequent a hotel or theatre or can help to sustain one of the thousands of industrialists who lay siege upon the visitors. One can go to the beach where the sunbathers gather, that is to say, the thousands of Adams and Eves of every shape and size, whoafter frolicking among the waves for hours and rolling around in the sands along the shores, with a presumptuousness capable of offending even the most trivial precepts of chastity, for an even longer period of time, with their undershirts

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stuck to their arms and bodies and exposing their knickers, without worrying about public opinion, and even enhancing, on occasion, the size of provocative body partsdecide to change into their usual attire, which is something a bit less than what the codes of modesty require in those bathing places. Lucas Guevara, owing to his relationship with the physician who had attended to him in the hospital and then had saved him from falling once again into the clutches of the justice system, became employed by the owner of a Coney Island recreational center, which offered Lucas room, board, and a small salary, but forced him, however, to dedicate himself to working for sixteen hours a day; at the end of those days, exhausted in both body and soul, Lucas had no other ambition than entrusting sleep with the task of restoring his depleted strength. Knowing that his position was not permanent, because Coney Island only comes to life in the summertime, Lucas made an effort to save some money, upon which he would rely to sustain his existence for a few days after the season was over.

XXXVIII
Along with the summer season, the torrid life on Coney Island also comes to an end. The centers of recreation close their doors to the masses, and the employees from all of those entertaining places are dismissed. One can only work there for five months out of the year; the intemperate breezes of autumn and the winter frost draw the tourists away from the seaside beaches: instead of the refreshing winds, they now go in search of warm stoves. All of the places that inspired the plethora of life on Coney Island during the summer season look like listless bodies requiring respite before returning to perform their maddening duties the following year. The colossal constructions, in whose heart happiness had overflowed, now appear somber, solitary, dismembered; the grand hotels are commended to the care of some slothful watchman; in the restaurant dining rooms, only chairs stacked upon the rows of dinner tables can be seen; in the darkened and tenebrous theatres, one trips over dismantled stages and torn curtains with each step; the taverns show only their empty bars and shelves covered in sheets of newspaper or pieces of blotting paper to protect them from the dust and humidity; in the avenues and alleyways, there are few places to provide shelter for human beings; and the heaps of garbage that litter the beaches are quickly carried away and consumed by the waves of the sea.
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At that time, Coney Island strikes in ones imagination the image of a familys home from which they have just removed a dead body: there are petals and leaves dispersed about the floor, and the air is saturated with the echo of muffled music and the smell of the extinguished candles. Lucas Guevara suffered the same luck as the thousands of souls who make their living by providing their services on Coney Island, in one form or another, for as long as the summer lasts. He was obliged to return to New York City to confront new challenges. The little money that he was able to save was scarcely enough to enable him to secure room and board for a few short days. He had to obtain some gainful employ as soon as possible; winter was approaching, with all of its severity; and so, before such urgent necessity, he found no other way open to him than that of returning once again to seek the doctors kind support, which he did not do in vain. Provided with an eloquent letter of recommendation from the physician to the manager of a commercial establishment patronized by HispanoAmericans, Lucas had the good fortune of finding the propitious opportunity that he was searching for; thus, he was contracted as an interpreter, earning a weekly salary that barely permitted him to remain on friendly terms with the proprietress of the boardinghouse where he had resided since his return from Coney Island, and that hardly allowed him to maintain the physical appearance corresponding to the visible position he had just begun to occupy. However, necessity, that great mother of inventionnow going this way, now going thatprovided him the means to escape from his dire straits relative ease. Obligated to be in almost daily contact with people of his own race who frequented the store, he was not only able to get caught up to date with regards to peculiarities he had ignored, but he was also selected to be the mentor or guide of numerous customers; in a word, he began to figurein a manner of speakingamong the number of Jacinto Peuelas competitors. One of Lucass new acquaintances, Don Armando Talavera, had recently arrived in New York City with his head filled with a series of original chronicles about North America that he had heard in his native country from the mouths of travelers who, with a large dose of exaggeration, insisted upon narrating their tales to as many compliant people with enough patience to listen to them. Don Armando went as far as demanding that Lucas talk to two of his young female colleagues at the store, invite them to dinner, and obtain from themin exchange for the invitationa partic-

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ular class of favors; for, according to what he had heard from the many tourists who had returned to his homeland with a thousand tales of their glorious conquests, these sorts of invitations were commonplace in New York, and all of the women lived in hopeful anticipation of the arrival of men like Don Armando to regale them with gifts and good cheer. He did not wish to extend the invitation himself, explained the visitor, because, due to the simple fact that he did not speak the language, it was imprudent and even dangerous to risk making a move of this nature. It was not a difficult task for Lucas to accommodate Seor Talavera; and that is how, a few days after devising the scheme, Lucass two modest female cohorts, who did not find the invitation to be out of the ordinary, and the two men who had extended the invitation for them to share in those epicurean delights, met at a previously determined location. Since Don Armando had made the opportune indication for Guevara to guard against squandering exaggerated amounts of moneyor, in other words, that the invitation should adhere to strict economic principles Lucas was very careful to select a restaurant with moderate prices but a quite acceptable general appearance. He was likewise commissioned to order their respective meals and select the corresponding bottle of wine, in accordance with his experience, and due to the fact that he knew the language well enough to see what gastronomic confections were offered on the menu. Because they arrived at the restaurant at a time when business had reached its most feverish pitch, after having made a few strolls through the various dining rooms, they found an unoccupied table set with four table settings and comfortably took their seats. After a few moments, the waiter, to whom the chore of attending to the new dinner guests corresponded, made his appearance, sweating and out of breath, with a clean shaven face, wearing a white apron and a black coat whose tails only came down to his waist, and with a large serviette hanging from his arm. He served their drinks; he distributed the spoons, knives, and forks; he brought out napkins and pats of butter; he supplied them with bread plates; and he handed them a sheet of bristol paper, printed on both sides: on one, the list of dishes which they had prepared that day could be seen, and, on the other, an inventory of the wines and liquors stored in their cellar, with each item clearly marked with its respective price in visible and unequivocal numerals in the margin. With the solemnity of a sphinx, the waiter prepared himself to take

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their order. Lucas, with the menu lying on the table, with his head supported by one hand and with the thumb and index finger of his other hand pinching his lower lip, studied the menu from top to bottom and from bottom to top again, attempting to select dishes whose prices would not lay a violent siege on Don Armandos wallet. The young ladies followed the selection process with enthusiastic eyes, with the goal, no doubt, of determining their hosts generosity by way of the cost of the items; while the waiter, with just as much curiosity, awaited the final word in order to predict the probable sum of the gratuity he could expect to receive, and perform his duties with greater or lesser efficacy, according to this mental calculation. While Lucas focused his attention on his electoral responsibilities, Don Armando devoted all of his energies to charming the young lady who attracted the deepest currents of his affections by way of quasi-untranslatable gestures and romantic phrases spoken in a language that was completely foreign to her; and this provided the opportunity for the two young ladies to erupt with laughter, the waiter to smile sarcastically, and Guevara to set aside his calculations and selections in order to interpret that newly minted Pygmalions exuberant verbiage and gesticulations. As a result of Guevaras previously acquired experience, he resolved to satisfy the appetites of his dinner guests at a relatively low cost, without further concerning himself with what the young ladies or the waiter might have thought. Their female companions did not make evident their tremendous hunger, but their appetites, never scarce in that sort of dinner guest, could have made anyone jealous. The influence of the wine and the approach Don Armando made toward his female companionan approach which must have been extremely intimate, for the young lady was often compelled, with one of her hands, to push aside one of Seor Talaveras knees, which struggled to exercise immodest contact with hersturned into new oratory outbursts and attempted kisses from Don Armando, causing the four dinner companions to attract curious, mocking, and even scandalous glances from the other restaurant patrons. After the meal had ended and the billwhich the waiter hastened to give to Lucas, who discretely passed it on to Don Armandowas paid, the size of the waiters tip must have been very small, indeed, for he glared at the host with the most insolent disdain; he did not trouble himself with

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returning their hats and coats to them; then, the waiter, upon seeing that they were leaving, went to another one of his colleagues and allowed a few words to trickle into his ear that, if Lucas had heard them, it is certain that the foulmouthed waiter would have been forced to use his apron, not to dry dishes, but to control the bleeding from a nasal hemorrhage. Frozen like two statues, the two waitersinstinctively covering up their mouths with their serviettes, casting askew glances and expressing their outrage and disdaindid not move from their spots until the two couples had passed through the threshold of the dining rooms door and were found out on the street. They smiled with an indefinable smirk, muttered the word pig, and went back to preparing themselves for attending to new patrons. Don Armando, Lucas, and their respective female companions decided to take a stroll along the avenue, but instead of showing interest in the new invitation made to them to conclude their soire in some more private location, the young ladies vehemently argued against such an impertinent insinuation, saying that they were not those kinds of girls, in spite of any rebuttals made by Lucas or any of Seor Talaveras gesticulations to convince them otherwise. Without any scruples whatsoever, nor worrying themselves about what their companions might say, the young ladies mounted the first streetcar that passed by once they had reached the corner of the street, and they left the two Don Juans there, alone, with the pain of shattered dreams and the prospect of a long, lonely night. Naturally, Don Armando placed the responsibility for what happened on Lucas. Although it is true that the harmony that had existed between the two did not conclude in a disastrous brawl, Lucas, however, in his role of cicerone, fell to the lowest rung of admiration and esteem in the eyes of Don Armando.

XXXIX
If Lucas would have been able to live further away from his fellow countrymen, it is certain that the means with which he had come to rely upon at that time would have been more than enough to sustain himself and, perhaps, even to improve his lot in life. But, because employees do not have the right to dedicate the hours of the urgent demands of business to idleness and indulgence without taking the risk of their bosses kicking them out the door, the natural result of a subordinates failure to meet the responsibilities contracted by his superiors occurred to Lucas. Guevaras dalliances outside of the store for longer periods of time than what was permitted for a salesclerk, and the repeated negligence which is demonstrated by those who do not pay enough attention to their obligations, gave rise first to warnings, then to sever reproaches, and finally to Lucass dismissal. When fired from the store, Guevara at first believed that it would be possible for him to continue to take advantage of his prosperous position as a commercial canvasser, but in addition to the professional competition, he experienced the misfortune that the candidates he had in his sightsmany of whom came from the very same situation as those whose pernicious friendships had created the situation in which he found himselfturned their backs on him, leaving Lucas to his own devices. The male candidates looked for a more experienced cicerone before they would look to Guevaranot satisfied, perhaps, with the skill they needed for that sort of friendshipto be a collaborator in their revelry, while the women, whose impertinences and eccentricities he had been forced to tolerate, unleashed
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the tempests of their tongues upon Lucas in the boardinghouse dining rooms, considering him to be a public nuisance. Thus, he began to travel the road of a new Via Crucis. The specter of desolation came to knock at his door once again; he found himself starving and without a roof over his head; and, the hand of charity refused to take hold of his trembling and abated hand. He hoped to make another appeal to his old benefactor, but the doctor had left for Europe and would not return again for many months. Willing to perform any job, Lucas went everywhere offering his services in exchange for whatever piddling compensation was given to him. Fate would occasionally smile upon him and he would gain some transitory employment, whose recompense was scarcely sufficient to furnish him with a meager subsistence. That is how Lucas was able to discover another aspect of life in New York City, which, along with its frightening characters, made an impression upon the depths of his very soul. On nights of bitter cold, Guevara was forced to seek shelter in one of those institutions that opens the doors of charity to the needy; he was obliged to stand in one of those interminable lines of starving people, who, in the wee hours of the morning and shivering with cold, knock on the doors of those establishments that kindly distribute cups of coffee and morsels of bread free of charge. On other occasions, when he was in possession of a few coins and the plethora of the destitute made it impossible for him to enter one of those charitable shelters, Lucas took refuge in one of those dreadful establishments, known as hostels, which can be found particularly lining Third Avenue in the Bowery. Although they do not provide food there, the price that they charge for a bed is quite modest; ten or fifteen cents can satisfy the requirements of the owners, who are generally members of the Hebrew race, which is the equivalent of saying that they manage their business negotiations with excessive vigilance. Lucass first experience in one of those hostels was exasperating. It was a cold night. A tremendous snow had fallen upon the city, lasting for many hours, paralyzing traffic and causing serious disturbances to the movements of commerce. It appeared as if the copious volume of clouds floating in spaceat times as billowy as woolen fleece, at others as flocculent as snowflakes, then both heaped one on top of the otherformed a dense tapestry everywhere and built, at the same time, imposing white barriers over the avenues and boulevards. The weary city seemed to shiver from the cold under that shroud of snow. It was a lugubriously fantastic spectacle, made with brush strokes of

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poetic idealism. With plumes of thickening and solidifying frozen water sparkling brilliantly from its awnings, cornices, and windows, the buildings looked like mutilated masses of marble strewn across the esplanade of a gigantic necropolis, while the skeletons of trees, which the claws of winter had stripped of their verdure, imitated the efflorescence of whitewash emerging from the banks of sand calcined from an inclement beach. Through all of this, the glorious majesty of whiteness could be felt, concealing the ignominious majesty of black mires and frightening decay. Anywhere that one attempted to cast his eyes, all that could be seen was a single white sheet, full of wrinkles produced by the flurries of wind, the vehicles that drove through it, and the footprints of the multitudes who ventured to defy the inclemency of the season. The windswhich blew violently and crashed against the roofs and the tall, thick walls of the edifices, intonating the sorrowful miserere of a requiemwould drive the slightest tufts of snow in the creases of its myriad wings, dispersing them in every direction and causing them to appear like a downpour of crystal particles floating in the atmosphere, and through which the innumerable electric lightbulbs of the public lighting system struggled to prevail over the nocturnal darkness with its incredibly brilliant and iridescent nimbus. The charitable institutions that Lucas had resorted to were packed full. It was impossible for him to ward off sleep after having been deprived of it for so long, and it was even more impossible to withstand the bitterness of the cold. He decided to walk to the Bowery; he traversed numerous blocks and examined the entrances to more than half a dozen hostels; he hoped to determine their interior conditions through a careful analysis of their exterior appearances; cold, hunger, and fatigue finally overcame him; he bought a slice of ham placed between two slices of bread at a nearby luncheonette; and with that cold-cut sandwich in his pocket, Lucas resolutely entered the hostel that had made the best impression upon him. Upon mounting the stairs leading to the first floor, he came across a grimy counter, behind whichin the narrow gap left over by a heavy strongbox, a bookshelf, a table, and a chairmoved the plethoric figure of the proprietor, a sullen and vulgar individual with a sour countenance and smelling unbearably of chewing tobacco, which he used to keep his jowls continually filled, forcing him to frequently discharge mouthfuls of saliva into an enormous cast-iron spittoon, making use of his shirtsleeve or the back of his left handon whose ring finger a gold ring with a diamond of considerable proportions could be seento wipe his mustache after each spit.

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The industrialist cast his inquisitive and loathsome eyes on the recent arrival; and, presenting Lucas with a pass slip, he extended his hand to receive the money Guevara used to satisfy the requirement for his lodging. The hotel manager did not deign to say a single word, perhaps because he took it for granted that each guest should already know why he had gone there and how much the service that he had come to solicit would cost him. The unavoidable prerequisite thus fulfilled, he finally opened his mouth, replete with his wad of tobacco and, with a hoarse and scornful voice, he indicated the room assigned to Lucas and the number of the bed that he would occupy. In a long rowas are seen in the hospital infirmaries, against each side of the room, separated by tiny spaces and morosely illuminated by two gas lamps hanging from the ceilingmore than twenty beds, numbered with their corresponding numerals painted on the wall, filled the room that had been assigned to Lucas. A watchman or guardian collected the slip of paper the new guest presented him. If not with more indifference than that which characterized the proprietor, then certainly with more insolence, the watchman pointed out, from the door, the bed designated for Lucas, which, as with all of the others, consisted of a simple iron frame with a straw mattress whose covering allowed for various lumps of the straw from which it was made to be seen; a pillow in an analogous condition; and a dingy grayish blanket was the natural match, as much in terms of its original color as its continual usage, to the pillow and straw mattress. Some of the guests did not find it convenient to undress; even with their hats pulled down to their ears, they surrendered themselves to sleep. Others just took off their shoes, which they hid beneath their pillows for greater security. Finally, there were still others, more adherent to the ideals of community, no doubt, who removed their overcoats, folded them in order to make a more comfortable pillow, and bundled themselves up in their blankets. No one was concerned for his neighbor, nor did any ear appear to be effected by the interjections and blasphemies heard at close range or from afar. Lucas had never before seen such a hybrid, repugnant, and lugubrious mass of people; it was a room full of desolation, moral decay, and inexpressible grief. Misery could be seen there in all of its maddening forms: from that which consumes the impudent youths who have just commenced their descent into the abyss, to the abject elderly folk, who, without enough valor to cut the last thin thread which ties them to life, insist on going on with the struggle, perhaps because they imagine that there must be even more profound chasms of human degeneration. Over here, an alcoholic, whose guttural and violent breathing could

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cause one to believe that he is suffering an apoplectic attack, sunk his head and swollen and plethoric countenance on a sullen pillow; over there, sitting on the edge of his bed, a thin and trembling old man with a patriarchal beard devoured bits of food that some charitable soul had given to him; somewhere else, drowned out by the violent spasms of coughing, a person who preferred to lead his own abominable existence rather than submit to the rule of a hospital, struggled with all his might; in one of the corners, an animated conversation was sustained by three friends whose physiognomy and physical appearance inspired fear; and, way over there, a strapping young man appeared, attempting to conceal his face with the crown of his hat, as he obliquely cast scrutinizing glances from side to side, as if he were harboring the idea of taking advantage of his neighbors sleep in order to pick his pocket, while the dismay of people who appeared to resist such degradation and such vileness was not seen from any of the beds. And, there, mixed with that crowd, the ultimate expression of physical and moral decay, Lucas had resigned himself to spend the night. He made himself as comfortable as he could on his bed; and, after catching brief stints of sleep soured by tenacious nightmares, the light of day had not entirely dissipated the tenebrous fog darkening the city and postponing its awakening during the winter mornings, when Guevara took his leave of that den of misery and depravity. He took to the streets, to the grace of God, to confront new challenges, inspired, perhaps, by a new vortex of disillusionment and pain.

XL
The parks and public squares constituted places of solace for the vagrants and hospitable shelters, for the destitute, especially in the summertime. The former would spend entire hours of the day and night there, submerged in profound contemplation, or reading interminable newspaper columns with sleepy eyes, while the later, less enthusiastic about reading, perhaps due to excessive weakness of the stomach, slept in a carefree manner and with an air of immunity undisturbed by the stern rule of law. The park in the middle of New York City, or rather, Central Parkwith its artificial waterfalls, its picturesque lakes, its broad avenues, its mysterious kiosks, its greenery and branches with birds that trill during the day and beneath whose shade loving couples take shelter by nightwas one of the attractions the great metropolis had to offer, and it was a place where both natives and visitors alike could find special delights and become either actors in or spectators of the most heterogeneous and feverish scenes. With the help of money and the exuberance of nature, every whim imaginable could be seen there during the warm season with all the pomp and vitality of a tropical landscape. It was the place where elegance and luxury came calling, and, at the same time, where misery went in search of refuge. Magnificent teams of Norman horses pulled lustrous landaus, from whose drivers seats stiff coachmen donning fine livery and an air of pride and satisfaction trans206

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ported millionaires who paraded their wealth while resting on fluffy cushions and indolently contemplating the multitude crowding the park benches spread out along the riversides. Speedy coaches driven by happy young lads crisscrossed with the elegant Victorians from which beautiful demimondaines meted out smiles and dreamt about future conquests; automobiles and velocipedes and agile equestriennes all formed the thunderous and dizzying tumult, the cascade of animation and life which could not be comprehended nor explained except by witnessing it firsthand and feeling its powerful murmur. And fitting this tumult like a frame, the other could be seen: a sea of humanity that began with the cross streets, invaded the pavilions, spilled over into the small plazas and large green pastures, plowed through the lakes in tiny watercrafts, ran around the fountains, entered the gardens, filled the restaurants, trickled through the crossroads, and, in the end, was unable to completely satisfy its thirst for entertainment with the plentiful and joyous places of recreation. The poor and downtrodden were also seen there: those who demonstrated hunger and misery amidst all of that squandering of money and pleasure, those who, like owls, simply waited for night to fall in order to find a hospitable roof under the shade of a tree protecting them from the rain and providing them with a peaceful atmosphere to help them to fall asleep. People with absolutely no hope went there, those who had lived lives full of disappointment, to put an end to what they perceived to be the complete absurdity of existence with a potent poison or the bullet of a gun. On summer nights, Central Park served as both a benevolent sanctuary for the destitute as well as a lecherous and amorous retreat for couples in love. Lucas Guevara, during this time of misfortune and sorrowful surprises that he experienced on a daily basis, went there in search of refuge on numerous occasions. Hungry and completely exhausted after a day of looking for workwhich was usually fruitless, because he rarely stumbled across some charitable soul who would alleviate his pressing needsLucas would reach the park entrance at nightfall and walk through the park until locating the spot he considered to be a good place for him to rest, on some occasions traveling with his imagination to the outskirts of Santa Catalina, and on others, feeling the serpent of bitterness and vengeance in the bottom of his soul when the names of Seor Jimeno and Don Cesreo passed through his memory. Lucas would partially close his eyelids and enjoyed a few hours of rejuvenating sleep. There were, however, occasions when a rebellious and excitable nature

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would not allow him to fall asleep and, motivated by his curiosity and the need to distract his mind, Lucas would dedicate himself to roaming about the parks boulevards, those which, in spite of the numerous electrical lightbulbs that made an effort to illuminate them, were always found to be plunged in a quasi-blackness that did not allow one to make out the contours of objects clearly and mocked the polices investigative stares. Here and there, wherever the darkness was most dense, wherever the tree branches were thickest, on the river bends where accommodating shrubs made them even more mysterious, in an uninterrupted chain, without paying much homage to modesty, with a certain cynicism and a particular lewdnesswhich was enough to offend chaste spirits, but not so brazen as to startle the officers of the peaceloving couples occupied as many benches as the city had placed in the service of the public on New Yorks grand promenade. From one direction, the smack of kisses could be heard in rapid succession; from another, one could hear the rustling of silk petticoats being wrinkled; from yet another direction, muffled laughter, heavy breathing, and the murmur of passion and caresses came from the park benches. And to one side, one could espy the silhouettes of women, who allowed themselves to fall in fainted somnolence onto the chests of gentlemen who snuggled up to them, squeezing them around their waists with their arms; or men, who were lulled to sleep, using the voluptuous breasts of their affectionate female companion as a pillow; on the other side, there were couples whose exact contours were impossible to make out: the strange interlocking of legs, unusual hand positions, faces hidden behind the rims of their hats . . . At any given moment, as soon as the hooves of the horses of some mounted policeman could be heard in the vicinity, or as soon as the characteristic footsteps of some officer indicated that he was drawing near, rapid and simultaneous movements were made in order to regain composure, straighten skirts, return hands to their normal positions, and push those concealing hats to one side. As soon as the officers of the peacethat is, those entrusted with enforcing moral conduct and proper behaviorbegan to walk away, the vibrations from kisses, the wrinkling of skirts, and heavy breathing could be heard once again; and hands and hats and arms and legs all returned to their previous abnormal positions. Like a swarm of butterflies fluttering in every direction and penetrating all places, anxious to discover an unoccupied seat or a convenient spot for their caprices, hundreds of couples walked along the avenues and passed through the crossroads; they cast inquiring looks toward the inside of the kiosks, and they charged the first bench that they found vacant with fervent zeal; all of this happened without

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any of the police officers even attempting to take advantage of, like any other person might, the discrete river bends in order to force their lips upon those of some young girl who had lost her way, voluntarily or not, in the complex web of the parks streets and alleyways. On one of those nights of insomnia, in which a pensive, nervous, and hungry Lucas Guevara wandered aimlessly through the labyrinth of the park, upon walking past a bench hidden beneath the fallen branch of a luxuriant poplar tree, he thought that he recognized the face of a man familiar to him. His curiosity piqued, and with all of the care such a case required, Lucas situated himself in the spot where he thought it best to observe the couple. The darkness did not permit him to make out those he remembered very clearly; and, considering it useless to continue spying, he decided to leave his hiding place just as the couple left their seats and took a stroll along one of the avenues. Lucas followed behind them, quickened his pace and was able to pass them. From a short distance, one of the streetlights bathed the figures of the two lovers in a brilliant light, and Lucas was then provided with the opportunity to see their faces clearly. Next to an attractive blonde woman, still in her youth, walked Don Arnulfo Jimeno, the commodities broker, banker, member of the firm of Jimeno, Marulanda & Co., moral pedagogue, and honorable and zealous teacher of many pupils. But the young lady who accompanied him could not possibly have been his wife, judging by the sort of twittering laughter they enjoyed under the protective shade of the poplar tree.

XLI
At the same time that Lucas Guevara was being tormented by all of his misfortunes, Don Martiniano Esparragosa J., the illustrious descendant of one of the wealthiest families in the Republic of ***, according to his own declaration, disembarked from one of the grand transatlantic steamships that traveled from the village of the Hague in Normandy to New York City, its last port of call. That gentleman, with his country on the verge of erupting into civil war, had the bright idea of making a foray through foreign lands, not only to dress himself from head to toe, as they say, in the latest European fashions, but also with the hope of exposing himself to horizons that were probably wider than those where he had taken the breath of life more than thirty springs earlier. He stayed in the Old World for approximately sixty days, visited various European capitals, enjoyed the hot spring waters at Vichy for two days, lost two or three Louises in Monte Carlo, spent a night in Venice, crossed the English Channel and frequented the London hotels for a week. He toured
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Madrid, attended High Mass at Saint Peters Cathedral, and crossed through France on an express train to Paris from the Spanish border on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea. In Paris, he dedicated himself to strolling the boulevards for four weeks, walking through the Bois de Boulogne et Vincennes and down to the Champs Elysees, usually accompanied by some female friend he had met at Moulin Rouge or Folie Bergers, for he would have been unable to successfully complete the mission of a tourist in any other way. In a single day, he visited the Louvre for a length of two hours, traveled through Luxembourg at a slow trot, passed by the Cathedral of Notre Dame, climbed the Eiffel Tower once, and twice attended performances at LOpra. He purchased six suits in various styles and colors; a dozen neckties, a cane, a silver-handled umbrella, and various other trifles, the most important of which was a travel bag. In addition, to present as gifts for the female members of his family, he bought two dozen empty bottles adorned with labels painted in color of the image of Our Lady of Lourdes and a portrait of that miraculous spring in the Grotto of Massabielle. Having thus concluded his recreational and educational pilgrimage, Don Martiniano decided to return to his native land by way of New York, and, therefore, that is how it came to pass that the great American metropolis was given the honor of including Don Martiniano Esparragosa J. to the list of its visitors. In the anarchic state of modern literature, which has developed in the shadow of the beneficent society of the Motu Proprio, Don Martiniano considered himself to be a venturesome apostle of modernism. He strummed the lyre and introduced a celebrated advancement to the world of poetry: he created or invented palindrome poetry, that is, poems which were identical when read forward or backward; and so, by virtue of the brotherhood that he belonged to, or aspired to belong to, he believed that he was worthy of having his name thrust to the uncharted frontiers of fame, ahead of the rest of the members of that fraternal institution. To the visitors shock and dismay, he discovered, by way of the investigations he had conducted, that no periodical in New York had not announced his arrival on American shores, a discourtesy he justifiably characterized as Yankee vulgarity; he vowed to avenge himself of said outrage in the pages of the book he was preparing to write. Although he originally planned to stay in New York for only a week, at the mostfor his patriotic sentiments opposed honoring with his presence

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a nation that has committed so many abuses against Hispano-American countriesthe infernal revolution which had scourged his homeland forced him to modify his itinerary. Although much to his chagrin, he felt obliged to prolong his stay in that city for a longer period of time due to the news he received from the theatre of battle, from which he concluded that not only was there no port where one could disembark, but also that the lines of communication in his country were uncertain and came with no guarantees for citizens abroad, even when those travelers, like Seor Esparragosa J., carried bags packed full of bottles of watersupposedly from Lourdes, but in reality taken from some brook in his native parishto present as gifts to his numerous kin. In light of those unexpected circumstances, Seor Esparragosa J. thought it prudent to dedicate the hours of the day that he spent in New York, not only performing the hackneyed duties of a New York correspondent for the periodicals in the Republic of ***with the noble intention describing for his compatriots the tremendous economic and social woes confronting that great nation to the north, which he believed he understood more profoundly than the most experienced politician in Washington due to his natural intuition, simply because he had suckled his first drops of milk under the same skies which cloak Santa Catalinabut also taking advantage of the opportunity to convey his impressions from his travels on paper. In spite of his position as a sophisticated literato, it appeared as though his knowledge of calligraphy and spelling paralleled the sublimity of his lucubration; and, because he also delighted in assuming the airs of a very important person, he considered it indispensable to hire a secretary who would put the columnswhich were going to constitute the body of work destined to be a source of pride and inspiration for his compatriots, and which would provide food for the mice in the editorial offices of the newspapers whose directors the author would honor with sending each of his samplesin a legible form so that they could be taken to the press. Although Seor Esparragosa J. was not originally from Santa Catalina, he was from a neighboring village; for that reason, Lucas knew him, not only by name and reputation, but also practically by voice and mannerisms. Once aware of the fact that Don Martiniano was in New York, Lucas did not hesitate to go pay him a visit, not only to enjoy the pleasure of shaking hands with one of the brightest stars of their national literature, but also to see if that literary genius would be able to offer him some practical assis-

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tance in escaping the pitiful circumstances in which he had found himself. Seor Esparragosa J. was happy to receive Lucas, appeared very sympathetic when listening to Guevaras story and, after asking Lucas about his family, discussing the details of his trip and his bibliographical project, and expressing his impressions about the countries that he had visitedfilling the conversation with a certain unintelligible phraseology, painfully ruminant with the copious properties of sophisticationDon Martiniano concluded by proposing to his interlocutor that he take on the responsibilities of being his amanuensis, whose corresponding remuneration would help, at least for a short time, according to him, to assure Guevara that he would receive his daily bread. With affectionate jubilation and demonstrations of the most profound gratitude, Lucas accepted the proposition Seor Esparragosa J. offered him; the exhilaration Guevara felt was so great that he very nearly came to reconcile himself with all of his compatriots. It was confirmed that Lucas would start work at ten oclock the following day. With that agreement, the visit appeared to be drawing to a close, which, unfortunately, presented a serious problem for Guevara, for when he asked Don Martiniano if he could be given some small monetary assistancein the form of an advanceto be able to get some food, the literato excused himself, saying that he was very sorry, he had no money with him at that time, but that this would not happen in the future. At exactly the time that was agreed upon on the previous day, Lucas presented himself at the hotel where Don Martiniano was staying in order to begin his job as an amanuensis. Directed to Seor Esparragosa J.s room, Guevara found Don Martiniano still dressed in his nightclothes (or rather, pajamas) and sitting in front of a table upon which various rustic volumes appeared in chaotic disarray. Having exchanged their matinal salutations, Seor Esparragosa J. showed Lucas to the ad hoc escritoire he had prepared for his secretary. Take this pen and lets begin, he told him. One of the most important items and the one which has caused me to lose the most sleep is the title of the work. But I believe I have selected the absolutely perfect one to do the trick, because it precisely defines the heterogeneous topics included in my book. On the first line, in bold letters, write down, Flora and Fauna; now, on the next line, in parenthesis, (The Intimate Details from the Journal of My Life); and, on a separate line, By Martiniano Espar-

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ragosa J. Don Martiniano took the page into his own hands in order to better appreciate the beginning of his book. Whats this garbage? he exclaimed, visibly annoyed. You have already managed to incur an error by omitting the J. in my name. Lucas had, in fact, perpetrated said offense. Dont you understand, he added, that the public could be confused by such a mutilation of my name? Suppose that the periodicals in the United States and Europe were to reproduce, as they will, a few chapters of my book. They will simply print the name Esparragosa, and there will be those who may come to imagine that there are two writers with the same name, when there is no other than myself, whom the public already knows by the initial of my second last name. In this sort of venture, my friend, it is imperative to be extremely careful to always maintain ones own individuality. So, please add the J. Lucas made the addition. Don Martiniano then began to dictate paragraph after paragraph from his journal, in which, according to what he had made manifest, he had written his first annotations, consisting of an interesting chapter regarding the beneficial properties of the water in Vichy for the treatment of dyspepsia. However, if some visitor had entered the authors room just moments before Guevaras arrival, he would have found Seor Esparragosa J. copying the primary statistical data compiled in the respective Bedecker travel guide into his own aforementioned journal; in fact, Guas and Bedecker, travel guides from the places that he had visited, were the only volumes of literature found among the previously cited heap of rustic books. For a six-day span, Lucas dedicated himself to his secretarial responsibilities. During that time, he penned various chapters, all of which were replete with the statistical data that would demonstrate to the future readership of Flora and Fauna the authors observant, intelligent, and studious spirit, and would act as heralds of admiration and laurels for his finely crafted phrasessome filled with Attic salt, which did not really come from any salt mine, and others overflowing with rhetorical musings and sublime ruminations, among which his incomparable and expressive metaphors shone brilliantly in the critiques that he made of the painting exhibited in the royal galleries of Luxembourg, describing them in the manner of chromatic indigestions from dyspeptic paintbrushes, by which he meant, no doubt, that

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said works of art had strongly clashed with his own aesthetic tastes, an indignity which Seor Esparragosa J., the literato, was certain would inspire bitterness and resentment in the artists who had painted them, especially when such a dart of censure was thrown by an authority as competent as the author of Flora and Fauna. Once the travel writer had milked his Bedecker travel guide dry and had scribed and compiled more than eighty columns, that is, at the end of the sixth day of work, Seor Esparragosa J. announced to Lucas that he would no longer require his services. He was now going to completely dedicate himself to the chores of news correspondent and to the analysis of the United States in order to write the kind of pleasantries which the Yankees deserved, resolved as he was to defy the scorn of that nation of gold deposits and parvenus of culture, as he referred to them. His writing represented an impending doom which, like the Sword of Damocles, had been suspended over the nape of the Americans; for, until that very day, no one hadas far as anyone knowsexpressed the sort of thoughts that Don Martiniano Esparragosa J.s masterful pen had put to paper, because, no doubt, the topic was never before worthy of the illustrious writer, and because the book Flora and Fauna was later published without including a single one of the assaults on the land of Washington and Lincoln in its pages. When he was appointed to the position of amanuensis, Lucas had not taken the precaution of stipulating the value of his labor; he was content to leave the size of his recompense to Don Martinianos genteel conscience, for it was natural for him to believe that a rich compatriot, patron of the literary arts and possessor of many other gifts, would not squander the opportunity to generously and graciously assist an unfortunate compatriot, who had shown the patriarchal patience to digest the various chapters of Flora and Fauna with humble submission and without complaint. Contrary to Lucass assumptions and beliefs, when the moment arrived to receive the payment for his work, Don Martiniano, thinking that he had climbed to the pinnacle of generosity, removed three one-dollar bills from his wallet and let them pass into one of his scribes pockets, supplementing that gift with a promise that, upon the books publication, he would honor Lucas by giving him a copy. If it had not been for the fact that Guevara was struck at that very moment by a lucky star recalling to his mind the memory of those miserable days of incarceration, it is very clear that all of Seor Esparragosa J.s parch-

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ments would not have been able to save him from a sublime altercation. Nevertheless, Lucass humility was not so great as to permit him to conceal his anger completely. He was tempted to throw the money back into Don Martinianos face and unleash a flood of insults and derision upon him; however, because his necessity had more influence than his dignity, he was content to turn his back on Seor Esparragosa J. and silently expressed something more eloquent than all of his interjections combined. This made Don Martiniano furious and deeply disconcerted, so much so that he swore a hundred times on his fathers grave that he would never open up his heart to charity again, especially where his fellow countrymen were considered. Seor Esparragosa J.s anger did not subside until he decided to writeas an act of vengeance, no doubtan enlightening article about the causes and effects of the ingratitude of mankind. In spite of the literary degradation Don Martiniano had hurled at Lucas, his lucky star had still not been totally eclipsed. As a result, it smiled on Lucas again by showing him that a new door of salvation had opened: that is, he once again found a way to receive his daily bread by way of the influence and opportune indications of an old acquaintance, whom he had happened to bump into during one of those days of trials and tribulations, and whom he did not hesitate to make a confidant in his misfortune. It was this unanticipated protector whom destiny had placed in his path, a person originally from the western United States and, like all redblooded Americans, kind and hospitable with all of his friends and acquaintances. Lucas had befriended him years earlier in one of the boardinghouses where he had lived; as a result of his exemplary patience and sanctity, he had assured a more solid and lucrative position for himself at the machine shop that employed a considerable number of people. It only required a single recommendation from that fine gentleman for Lucas to find work there. He was assigned to a helpers position in one of the factorys departments, with a weekly salary that was extremely thrifty but sufficient enough to save him from the privation he had been subjected to for such a long time. As for his diligence and conduct, Lucas tried to carefully follow whatever suggestion was made to him, which, after a few weeks, furnished him with a raise to his salary and the hope of a steady increase if he continued to faithfully observe the factorys strict policies. Unfortunately, however, other irremediable and calamitous events, pro-

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voked by Guevaras misguided instincts, appeared like murderous phantoms on the winding road of his existence.

XLII
Although the boardinghouses in New York City were as abundant as the shells of the seaand, like seashells, every kind of shell in the mollusk kingdom could be seen represented there, which meant that one could obtain any room that he wanted including the culinary delicacies preferredthere were no few occasions when it was not prudent to burden ones wallet with the responsibility of paying the same entrepreneur for room and board every week, for the simple reason that the amount of money owed when entering a new residence was no guarantee that one would leave with the same balance. In a similar way, it was imperative to be able to rely on the means necessary to create a practical solution to the problem of maintaining a secure entrance into the Temple of Morpheus without sacrificing the imperious alimentary exigencies of Lucio Licinio Lucollo. Hence, the system of rented roomswhich in the precise English language are referred to as furnished rooms, that is, bedrooms rented fully furnishedlikewise prevailed in the United States. One could obtain furnished rooms at a frugal price, although it was true that they presented great disadvantages, especially in terms of cleanliness, but this was no disincentive for those who refused to yield to slavery and overcrowding. To live in one of those rooms was the equivalent of residing in a kind of desert; only once a week, and then only a short while after one had woken up, was one able to see the face of another human being, that is, the visage of the proprietress, who merely presented herself in order to col218

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lect the rentpayable in advance. If, to his misfortune, a resident was not in a position to comply with such a formality, there was but one expedient way to avoid a conflict: to pack ones bags and go. But, if he was fortunate enough to be able to maintain good credit, or, in other words, if the tenant religiously complied with the inescapable requisite at the beginning of each week, he was able to enjoy not only peace and tranquility, but also a much greater benefit: the opportunity to take exceptional liberties. The proprietress conceded the right for one to have companionship, or rather the right not to sleep alone; for, as there were no curiosity-seekers troubling themselves with their neighbors lives, it wasin addition to being easy and naturalperfectly acceptable for the female friends of the male resident or the male companions of the female tenantsif they so choseto convert into a conjugal bed that which appeared to be or actually was destined to endure the nostalgia of celibacy. Of course, if one would have asked for permission to take advantage of such liberties from the proprietress of the establishment, she would have usually raised a huge protest and created a formidable scandalfor it was prohibited for anyone to publicly sponsor crimes against morality. However, if one were to proceed cautiously and complacently, waiting for the nocturnal shadows in order to have the opportunity to commit the deed, being absolutely certain that no one would walk in on them or create any sort of scandal, it would not have mattered if the proprietress herself were to be awakened by the sound of footsteps alighting the stairsconstructed to create access to the upper floors, giving each tenant the ability to enter his bedroom whenever he pleasedor from the rumbling of bedposts, for, as solid as they may have been, they could not prevent themselves from vibrating when the people they served were suffering from insomnia or could not enjoy the pleasure of sweet dreams. Relying on the salary he was granted by the factory, Lucas looked for asylum in one of those dark and disagreeable houses that smelled of humidity and spoiled food. For a dollar and a half per week, he rented a room, much likein terms of size and hygienic conditionsthe one he had occupied at Madame Bonfatis family boarding home. With the money left over after having made said expenditure, Lucas also had to provide for his other necessities, not the least of which was the weekly payment that he made to a Son of Israel from he purchased the second-hand clothing he wore, an obligation which, if not kept, would have condemned him to being reduced to the suit originally worn by Adam. Not the experience he had acquired, nor the calamitous past and present were enough to modify Lucass temperament or his venturesome inclina-

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tions. Women continued to exercise an irresistible influence over him, a command from whose grasp he was not able to free himself for as much as he promised to mend his ways and for as many angelic spirits who, from the celestial realms, struggled to carry him to safer shores. However, it would not be completely justifiable to place the entire weight of the blame upon the unfortunate young man, especially if one were to take into account the oppressive environment in which he moved; it was necessary to have nerves of steel to resist the test by fire of the myriad temptations that besieged mere mortals and which, like the nymphs in Fausts dreams, inhabited every corner of the world and promised all manner of gratifying sensations. Even in the humble abode where he found shelter at that time, by virtue of more violent sacrifices to Lucass wallet the serpent of temptation slithered on the ground and brought to him in her fangs a young lass who figured among the number of Guevaras conquests, who was no more and no less than the only daughter of the proprietress of the establishment, and who, according to what the mother and daughter asserted later, had not even reached the age of eighteen, nor had she committed the error of seeking absolution from any confessor. The idyllic frolic to which the couple had surrendered themselves, mockingwhich was not difficult in a house like that onematernal vigilance, would have been able to go unnoticed, or rather, would not have become the grounds for some scandal, if the two youngsters had not unfortunately demonstrated the unequivocal symptoms that they were traveling down a serious road. For that reason, after a few months, Don Andrs Guevaras temples would have come to rest next to the head of Lucass grandfather. Lucass first thought, upon becoming aware of the catastrophe, was to force the young lady to find one of those uncertified obstetricians who, devoid of any trace of moral sense, entrusted their murderous probes with the iniquitous task of destroying that which even the claws of hyenas strive to respect, and whose criminal instincts were surpassed only by those beings who, not brave enough to smash their heads to pieces against a wall, lacking some other implement better suited for the job, were, however, in the possession of that which inspired the most abominable depravity, insisting on exterminating the very thing that could possibly have saved them. Luckily for the commandment to be fruitful and multiply, the professionals who performed those sorts of servicesbecause they were not sanctioned by the law and could not make use of the adequate conditions that would guarantee that, as much as possible, they would not exchange

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the surgical room in their medical offices for jail cells in the penitentiary had established a tariff that was not within everyones fiscal reach. Although the expectant mother was prepared to follow all of Guevaras instructions, because it was not possible for either of the interested parties to gather the necessary sum, and because they would have had to call upon the landladys therapeutic resources, they once again demonstrated their complete inefficacy, and the process of maternity followed its natural course, with the inevitable accompaniment of symptomatic phenomena which could not be concealed. As soon as the proprietress of the establishment realized what had happened, hellfire and brimstone flew through the air. After making manifest her maternal indignation on the one hand, and taking Lucas to the furthest extremes of fear and despair on the other, the uncles and nephews and cousins and even an attorney entered into the scene, everyone determined to teach Guevara a good lesson if he did not save the familys honor by throwing the conjugal yoke around his own neck, that is, offering himself as the sacrificial lamb, because that is what it meant to Lucas to put a mother-in-law of her caliber in his pocket and to wear a necklace of such kin around his neck. Quietly and reservedly, as is customary on such occasions, that insolent matter had been reconciled: the mother with her son-in-law, the young lady with her husband, the family with its new and unexpected member, and the lawyer with a few more quarters obtained as compensation for his professional arbitration. But what would be Lucass fate now as a husband? Events began to occur, from the very moment that the law tied his marital knot, that were portents of an even more tragic conclusion than the one he had in his unlawful partnership with Mrs. Hendricks. It was one thing to view a sweet and good-natured mother-in-law when she was among the people who wished to become her tenants, but quite another to see her transformed into a barbaric shrew around that poor young man, from whom she not only denied all rights from the very beginning, but also felt compelled to place upon Lucas the irredeemable condition that if he wished to continue to enjoy the comforts of home, he would be required to pay for both himself and his consort or he would be obliged to hit the road and find someplace else; in her opinion, as soon as children were married, the duties and responsibilities of the parents ceased, and it was a shame and a disgrace when they refused to stop hiding beneath the aprons of their in-laws. The meager salary that Lucas earned did not even permit him the lux-

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ury of buying himself a pair of shoes, much less would it be able to satisfy such demands. The problem would have been easily resolved if he would have been able to free himself from his wife and mother-in-law. Lucas would naturally have been capable of doing it from the latter, much to her own satisfaction, but to the former he found no possible way: the law protected her rights as well as the irrepressible ire of her kinsmen. He had come to the point, then, when life lost all of the beauty and happiness it had to offer, so that even the most vigorous and resilient souls felt the bitterness of defeat in their hearts, and the thought of continuing to persevere seemed to be the utmost absurdity. Lucass first few weeks of marital vegetation had transpired amid threats, insults, and quarrels; it was an inferno against which even Lucifer himself would have protested. The young lady, who was not entirely unaware of the fact that such a situation was untenable, chose to align herself with her mothers cause; she understood that it would not be practical nor prudent to leave her home in order to suffer poverty or end up in a shelter if she were to decide to fulfill her duties as a wife. As a result, Lucas found himself, in the end, at the mercy of two flaming drums, each one vying with the other to determine which was most vindictive and cruel. He soon began to feel bombarded by the vertigo of madness and decided to make the ultimate resolution. Lucas Guevara had traveled his Via Crucis of martyrdom in an atmosphere of decadence, depravity, and decrepitude; a victim of the environment into which he was thrown by paternal ignorance or lack of foresight, without a virtuous or merciful arm to support and protect him, especially when it was necessary for him to take his first steps under those conditions, the whirlwind concluded by carrying him away; and, in the profound death knell of his infinite anguish, the august silhouette of Lady Liberty appeared before his eyes, pointing out for him, with a tragic finger, the path to the abyss of redemption.

XLIII
The Brooklyn Bridge is considered, and rightfully so, one of the wonders of the world. Indeed, what tourist has ever gone to New York City and cannot still recall the memory of the indelible impression it had made on his soul upon entering the harbor and, from the deck of the steamship, catching a glimpse of that vast web of wire which resemblesfrom a distance and through the mist which envelops ita very fine steel lace, floating in the air, suspended by granite Titans, from whose ribs light is scattered and whose heads are crowned by plumage of ashen clouds? Who has not experienced that strange sensation produced by all of its grandeur, all of its majesty, all of its magnificence, which is difficult even for the imagination to conceive when standing before that prodigy of human intelligence placed at the service of industry and commerce? And when night falls, when the last rosy vespertine tinges are covered in the mantel of night, when the two cities look like gigantic fires with their infinite electric lights, and when the East Riverthat crystalline sheet of a thousand indistinct colorsappears like a gash opened by a firemans axe to prevent the two fires from joining, who has not ecstatically contemplated that immense double parabola that stands out in the dark firmament with its tiara of amber lights and the incessant reflection of illuminated trains rushing headlong over the bridge in an uninterrupted succession? And who
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has not listened with awe to the solemn symphony that, upon crashing against the colossus of metallic threads, acts as the prelude to the wings of a hurricane that swells and expands? Is it not true that a hymn of praise and admiration gushes forth from the depths of the soul that cannot be translated by any human language, but that hangs on the tips of every tongue, hums in the ears with all the modulations of the gamut, and awakens sleeping minds with mysterious vibrations? The Brooklyn Bridge is one of the greatest manifestations of the human spirit. It is the most eloquent testimony to the courage and strength of that race of people whose minds have been filled with the most audacious concepts, the same people who, in fewer than thirty lustrum of existence, have been able to rival the civilizations and progress of nations founded centuries before which now, astonished and overwhelmed with amazement, look with respect upon that northern giant, the arbitrator of the destiny of the universesimply as a result of its colossal strength. In order to fully appreciate the Brooklyn Bridge for what it truly is, in order to form even a vague idea of that absolutely tremendous feat, it is necessary to view it from up close; walk upon its various roadways; stand next to the buttresses that support its extremities; examine the prodigious density of its parts, the mesh of its cables, the majesty of its gothic arches and, above all, the incredible rigging of that web of thin suspender ropes whose vaporousness and aeriform resemble an immense straw thatch when seen from afar. There are two times during the day when any tourist visiting New York City should go to the Brooklyn Bridge in order to best appreciate the grandeur of that colossus: from seven to nine oclock in the morning and from five to seven in the evening. During said morning hours, the countless number of people of every age, class, and gender travel from Brooklyn to New York in a huddled mass that proceeds to contribute to the commercial fervor in the great metropolis and adds to the activity of that human beehive beginning to toil when the first light of day appears on the horizon and not ceasing until Mother Nature is cloaked in the shadow of night. On the roadways, in the streetcars, in the automobiles, and in the carriages, the crowds flow incessantly into the entrances to the bridge pounded by the multitudinous waves; the trains file through on their designated rails

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minute by minute; the electric streetcars hasten one after the other in an uninterrupted chain; the coaches, carts, and wagons push, pull, and collide with feverish impatience on the roadways; and, through the center of the bridge, the people who venture to cross the bridge on footdue to their financial status or their fancyadvance in a crowded mass, propelled more by the pushing of those behind them than by their own volition. The tumult is deafening. From that sixteen hundred foot passage, only a solemn, maddening, confused din can be heard: the whistling locomotives, the trembling wagons, the thundering carriages, the continuously clanging warning bells, the grating wheels, the coachmens booming cries, and, finally, the profound grumbling of six hundred thousand souls who pass across that mass of iron each day. Ah! What an indescribable sensation lifts the spirit of anyone who stands in the center of the bridge and contemplates the view, casting his sights in every direction before that magnificent portrait which extends from one extreme of the horizon to the other! And from there, from the distant reaches of sight where the fog blurs the vision, the mass of the East Rivers murky and serene waters advances; lost in the distance, the two cities towering constructions show their ghastly silhouettes; thousands of sea vessels slice through the rivers crystalline water; a profusion of pennants and banners can be seen everywhere; even the light itself, as if animated by the imponderable human excitement, appears to stir up the waves that shudder and shake with vivacious and dazzling reflections; from here, up close, the whirlwind of Brooklyn and New York City can be felt and the ever-changing, ever-grandiose spectacle of its gigantic edifices can be seen; and, further off in the distance, at the opposite extreme, behind the trail of islands that take possession of the harbor, the blue band of the ocean expands, intermittently adorned by wandering lights and spirals of smoke. If there are no semblances of joy or happiness on the countenances of the innumerable people who cross the bridge at that time, there is, however, a glimmer of hope: for they go in search of employment that will provide for their personal well-being and they submit themselves to lifes daily struggles in order to overcome their obstacles, to fight any opposition encountered along the way without losing heart, to realize dreams forged in the sweet tranquility of night, and to become the victims of fate or to rise victorious from the battle. After ten long hours of bitter toil, and once the light of day begins to

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fade and their exhausted bodies seek respite, the Brooklyn Bridge once again demonstrates the same vigorousness as in the morning: the deafening din, the nervous impatience, the swarming tumult, and the mass confusion all return. The five tracks are too narrow for the multitude; it is impossible to walk along the platforms without having to push; superhuman strength is required to gain access to the small door of one of the streetcars; and one is forced to stand in a line, which appears interminable to the anxious crowd, in order to reach the ticket windows. The trains rush one after the other; the light of day is replaced by the inconceivable profusion of electric lightbulbs; the cities luminescence is reflected on the waves of the river; the boats that skim across the water cannot be distinguished except as black shadows sprinkled with lanterns of color; on the vague remoteness of the sea, the last rays of golden twilight are drawn indecisively; and, like a mute witness to that solemn spectacle of sunset, the Statue of Liberty, with obscured contour lines, raises her gigantic torch in her right hand and, from such heights, it spreads its resplendence, creating the impression that her immortal hand stands boldly erect in order to snatch one of the most beautiful stars down from the sky. An endless concurrence arrives at Brooklyn Station; it invades the stairways; it fills the streetcars; it disperses itself through the streets; and that dizzying tumult does not subside in the least until the first few hours of night have passed, until all of the offices have closed, the boilers have been extinguished, and the drivers have completed their circuits. Traveling alongside the realized dreams, the fruitful speculations, and the compensated labors, come the faces reddened from crying, the dispelled illusions, and the dampened spirits . . . The steel colossus responds equally to the rejoicing of some and the anguish of others with a mysterious symphony serving as a prelude to the wings of the hurricane that crashes up against the metallic threads of its prodigious armour.

v
During that solemn time of twilight, when the bridge transforms into a human ant nest, Lucas Guevara arrived at the station; he gazed upon the anxious multitude with the indecipherable and vague eyes of a madman; he walked to the platform of one of the streetcars; he took his place on the car and remained standing.

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The railcar began to move, slowly, stopping continually, because those that proceeded it were not advancing very quickly as a result of the plethora of vehicles running on the rails. Where was he going? If someone were able to penetrate into the depths of Lucass ruminations, perhaps they would have been able to guess what he was contemplating. His strength depleted by long, sleepless nights and lack of nutrition, Lucas felt as if he could have fainted there on the platform, if the nervous fervor that devoured him had not violently precipitated a rush of blood into his arteries, thereby furnishing him with a deceptive burst of energy, which would not take long to dissipate after the chilling period of excitement had passed. Every memory from his past, every impression he had held, every injury he had sustained all came rushing in rapid succession into his mind at that very moment, as if they were shown through the moving picture lens of cinematography. His abandoned home was still far away; his affectionate mother mourned the absence of her loved one, now removed from the warmth of her embrace; his fathers pale head was still bowed, not so much from the weight of the years as from the intense pain to which his gutless son had condemned him. The twilight of the homeland, once full of light and color, had presently disappeared in an impenetrable darkness; the dearest recollections of his childhood were almost completely forgotten; in the end, the entire sum of his memories from his first few years of life had long been shrouded in a sort of penumbra of indifference and despair, but they were struggling now to be resurrected from the depths of his being with all of the elements of his happy childhood. There, all around him, stood the wild and treacherous city, an agglomeration of adverse conditions, of appalling realities, of people far from all noble sentiment. A boiling cauldron of hate spilled forth from his soul, now deaf to the virtuous voice of forgiveness, containing the bitterness of fighting in vain, the disillusionment of a conquered will, the night of utter dismay, and the specter of a frightening future without a glimmer of hope. . . . And Lucass soul raged in the eye of that hurricane of violent sensations as the streetcar continued its beleaguered advance. As soon as the streetcar reached the middle of the bridge, Lucas, without anyone becoming aware of his intentions or being able to stop them, leapt from the streetcar on to the roadway; with a great show of agility, he

228

ALIRIO DAZ GUERRA

sprung over the railing and supported himself on the cables; and from those vertiginous heights, Lucas plunged into the river. A shriek of horror, which drowned out neither the noise from the trains nor from the streetcars, escaped from the mouths of the mass of humanity that had witnessed the tragic event. Hundreds of people hastened to the balustrade, inspired by their instinctual curiosity and amazement; the police responded quickly; they blew their whistles and boats departed from the riverbanks in the direction of where the body had plummeted into the water. But it was as if the river had no bottom; the sheet of water appeared serene; and hours passed without any cadaver coming to the surface. Meanwhile, the vehicles of transportation continued their momentarily interrupted march; the passengers returned to engrossing themselves in reading the afternoon newspapers; very few of them even mentioned the event; a number of them had not even noticed that a body had just disappeared; the newspapers would report the recent suicide on the following day; and no one would be moved by any feelings of sorrow. The last group of curiosity-seekers would soon disperse from the bridges balustrade due to a police order; the search and rescue boats returned to their anchorage; the river continued its serene and unaltered course; and the setting sun, like a gigantic vermilion bombshell, exploded above the dark gray line of the ocean, burning the horizon with its scorching flame.

Also by Alirio Daz Guerra

Published
Ensayos Literarios (poems) La Madre Cayetana (poem) La Inundacin y Rosala (poems) Alberto (poem) Poesas (poems) Ecce Homo (poem) Nuevas Poesas (poems) Lucas Guevara (novel)

Submitted for publication

May (novelsocial study) De los peridicos (various articles) ltimas Rimas (poems)

Work-in-progress
Libro de las Canciones

229

Additional books in the Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage Series
The Account: lvar Nez Cabeza de Vacas Relacin
Edited and translated by Jos Fernndez and Martin Favata
1993156 PagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-060-0$10.00

Conflicts of Interest: The Letters of Mara Amparo Ruiz de Burton

Mara Amparo Ruiz de Burton Edited, with an Introduction, by Rosaura Snchez and Beatrice Pita
2001647 pagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-328-6$17.95

The Adventures of Don Chipote, or, When Parrots Breast-Feed

Daniel Venegas English translation by Ethriam Cash Brammer Edited, with a New Introduction, by Nicols Kanellos
2000192 pagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-297-2$12.95

El Coyote, the Rebel

Luis Prez With an Introduction by Lauro Flores
2000256 pagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-296-4$12.95

Dew on the Thorn

Jovita Gonzlez Edited by Jos Limn
1997181 PagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-175-5$12.95

Las aventuras de Don Chipote, o, Cuando los pericos mamen

Daniel Venegas Edited, with an Introduction, by Nicols Kanellos
1998208 pagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-252-2$12.95

Firefly Summer
Pura Belpr
1996205 PagesClothbound ISBN 1-55885-174-7$14.95 ISBN 1-55885-180-1Paperback$7.95

Black Cuban, Black American: Hispanic Periodicals in the United States, Origins to 1960: A Memoir A Brief History and Evelio Grillo Comprehensive Bibliography With an Introduction by
Kenya Dworkin-Mndez
2000224 pagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-293-X$13.95

Nicols Kanellos with Helvetia Martell

1998288 pagesClothbound ISBN 1-55885-253-0$69.95

The Collected Stories of Mara Cristina Mena

Mara Cristina Mena Edited by Amy Doherty
1997208 PagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-211-5$12.95

History and Legends of the Alamo and other Missions in and around San Antonio
Adina de Zavala Edited by Richard Flores
1996215 PagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-181-X$12.95

230

Jicotncal
Flix Varela Edited by Luis Leal and Rodolfo J. Cortina
1995164 PagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-132-1$10.95

Versos sencillos/Simple Verses

Jos Mart Translated by Manuel A. Tellechea
1997128 PagesClothbound ISBN 1-55885-218-2$21.95 PaperbackISBN 1-55885-204-2$12.95

El lad del desterrado

Edited by Matas Montes-Huidobro
1995182 PagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-082-1$10.95

Vida y aventuras del ms clebre bandido sonorense Joaqun Murrieta: Sus grandes proezas en California
Ireneo Paz Introduction by Luis Leal
1999256 pagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-276-X$12.95

The Real Billy the Kid

Miguel Antonio Otero, Jr. Introduction by John-Michael Rivera
May 1998224 pagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-234-4$12.95

The Rebel
Leonor Villegas de Magnn Edited by Clara Lomas
1994297 PagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-056-2$12.00

The Way It Was and Other Writings

Jess Coln Edited by Edna Acosta-Beln and Virginia Snchez Korrol
1993128 PagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-057-0$12.00

The Squatter and the Don

Mara Amparo Ruiz de Burton Edited by Rosaura Snchez and Beatrice Pita
1997 (Second Edition)381 Pages PaperbackISBN 1-55885-185-2$14.00

Who Would Have Thought It?

Mara Amparo Ruiz de Burton Edited by Rosaura Snchez and Beatrice Pita
1995298 PagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-081-3$12.95

Tropical Town and Other Poems

Salomn de la Selva Edited, with an Introduction, by Silvio Sirias
1998256 pagesTrade Paperback ISBN 1-55885-235-2$12.95

231

Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage

Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage, Volume I
Edited, with an Introduction, by Ramn Gutirrez and Genaro Padilla
1993318 PagesClothbound ISBN 1-55885-063-5$34.95 PaperbackISBN 1-55885-058-9$17.95

Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage, Volume III

Edited, with an Introduction, by Mara Herrera-Sobek and Virginia Snchez Korrol
1998320 pagesClothbound ISBN 1-55885-251-4$39.95

Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage is a compendium of articles by the leading scholars on Hispanic literary history of the United States. The anthology functions to acquaint both expert and neophyte with the work that has been done to date on this literary history, to outline the agenda for recovering the lost Hispanic literary heritage and to discuss the pressing questions of canonization, social class, gender and identity that must be addressed in restoring the lost or inaccessible history and literature of any people.

This third volume of academic essays on recovering the Hispanic literary heritage of the United States features 27 articles by leading scholars. It addresses the broad topics of Rewriting the Present: Nineteenth-Century Historical Novels; Womens Voices: The Construction of Ethnic Gender Identities; Chroniclers, Ethnographers, and Historians; Identity and Affirmation: Contextualizing U.S. Hispanic Literature; and Using Historical, Archival, and Oral Sources. Editors Mara HerreraSobek and Virginia Snchez Korrol also contribute a unifying introduction.

Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage, Volume II

Edited, with an Introduction, by Erlinda Gonzales-Berry and Chuck Tatum
1996296 PagesClothbound ISBN 1-55885-139-9$34.95

Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage, Volume IV

Edited, by Jos Aranda, Jr. and Silvio Torres-Saillant
2002304 pagesClothbound ISBN 1-55885-361-8$27.95

This second volume in the series contains articles by the leading scholars on Hispanic literary history of the United States given at the annual conference on Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage. The articles in this volume are in five sections: The Recovery Project Comes of Age; Assimilation, Accommodation or Resistance? History in Literature/Literature in History; Writing the Revolution; and Recovering the Creation of Community.

This historic fourth volume of articles celebrates the diversity of scholars contributing research to this fast advancing discipline. This corpus represents the finished, reworked product of the biannual conferences of Recovery, providing theoretical and practical approaches, as well as critical studies on specific texts recovered from Hispanic expressive culture.

232