Story: the grapevine

the grapevine

 

 

   Javier Vega

At two p.m. knocked on his door: Dagoberto thought it was his wife Ada, who delayed returning with groceries.

The two policemen at the door of his house asked him to pass. The tall and phlegmatic appearance moved to the window, and I see the picture of marriage that Ada and Dagoberto proudly displayed among the coffee cups and glasses for short drinks glass had been taken forty years ago in a professional studio by a Hungarian Jew, who did not speak a word of Spanish, and he had to tell them the pose between gestures and smiles, while both low and plumper police drew his coat pocket a notebook black notes, evading the police time to talk began flipping through the pages, and after a moment of hesitation wondering:
 Sir ? Dagoberto Carrasco? Hawking, "I have bad news; his wife was hit to market exit.

It was instant, the driver of the car is stopped but there are witnesses who corroborate the statement of the driver: his wife crossed out of the blue in the middle of the street. "

  At five p.m. Dagoberto stood before the window of the reception at the morgue: came to identify the body. Despite painkillers which he had swallowed whole body felt heavy, slow steps followed the nurse to the mortuary.
 Cold as the nurse pulled the bobbin with the body covered by a white sheet then retreat a few steps in the regulations, to provide the necessary privacy.

 Dagoberto's first reaction was to run, to flee, abandoning reality but closed his eyes and shaking groping raised savannah, thought he saw his wife's face shattered by the impact, but when he finally opened his eyes he saw beautiful, in peace, looks forty years younger.

 Like when you met her, simple and placid with that expression that I absent during the first years of marriage, until the step "that incident", then attachment to land and evenings under the grape arbor, and the mess in the world of resentment and distrust, tamed as a pet home, he shot himself in the world of suspicion.
Now on the table their big black eyes were open to the distance, close in death, but in the last twenty years of his life had not seen most of what she wanted to see.
"Is it," said Dagoberto and closed her eyes fondly.


Months later Dagoberto was at the bottom of the backyard, his heart yearning to ring the bell at the front door.
Half smothered by anxiety breathing exercised, bringing air into the stomach and exhaled slowly, trying to calm the nerves.


After twenty years she would come to visit him.
She  phoned when he learned of the death of Ada. Her voice had broken and as pulling a load off, "I'd like to see you" he said "I'd like to see you" was repeated Dagoberto trying to calm his heartbeat.

He had wanted a weak and mean love, a love based on the need she felt for him.
Selfish in the passion of a spinster woman wanted someone to occasionally hit the door of his house.

Twenty years had passed since that day she had been crying, hugging his legs, begging him to give her a son, was all he asked, a being to alleviate his loneliness, a company for their old age, no one would know, and it would not require the name for the baby, but Dagoberto trembling with fear at the horror of destroying his family slipped from his arm throwing it on the ground and abandoned forever.

Today the air smelled of summer, to life, to a slightly warm breeze ruffled the green leaves of the vines in the Parron and suddenly in the midst of his longing Dagoberto hear the bell at the front door.
Camino quickly into the house, the dining room and hurriedly crossed the room with a firm hand and ran the doorknob.

The salesman looked surprised, ordinary people will open the door to evil interference sensing mode but Dagoberto opened the door wide to a happiness in the face which the seller astonishment, for a few minutes both looked without understanding the situation, was the seller I react after a few seconds and grabbed what came to hand: green colander and gallantly offered it to Dagoberto.
Disillusioned Dagoberto just getting into his pocket and paid with a hundred pesos, without waiting for the change closed the door with the same zeal with which he had opened Dagoberto back to sit under the grape arbor.

Actually she had set the day of the expected visit but Dagoberto had woken up that morning with a feeling that today, after how many years would. The longing for a company he was often since the death of his wife, he was lonely, a loneliness rancid sticking to your skin and your things, everything around it wise to helplessness, his life was like in the books the shelf of the room, written many years ago, with cartoons began to fade in the yellowed pages with paragraphs lost forever.
Relaxed, watch Parron green leaves and inhales the cool of the evening.

Twenty years ago I had planted the same day they decided to abandon it and from that day care so carefully, "for the love of the two Dagoberto granted.
On the one had bitten the earth, breaking his back with each shoveled dirt to forget, and his wife each fall hurts hands on pruning and damage your lungs in fumigation with sulfur dust: all for the leaves grow big and strong and beautiful in her trunks will enjoy its shade on hot summer afternoons.

He liked to see her calm and placid under the grape arbor, with eyes staring, dreamily.

In the last twenty years had been so few such moments because since "the incident" Ada never be able to be at peace.

The "goaded" that caused the mysterious female voice across the phone line to deny identified, but insisting on talking to him undermined Dagoberto life forever. Never ask him anything, he would not know, lived like a ghost out of pride refused to unmask instead became alert, suspicious, secretive of any act of Dagobert, in which was always a doubt.
 Stunned by the suspicions hill home to her friends, each of these could be the voice that haunted her, was limited to his world and that of her husband and Dagoberto without confessing, I accept his guilt, and submitting to this home insulation grabbed him fear of life.

Today, sitting under the grape arbor, with eyes filled with tears, twenty years later, feeling that something was crumbling chest first confessed "Gloria, Gloria was called" scream with rage.
The blood rushed to the head, and for a moment saw Ada shadow knitting Parron, "Gloria was called" repeated his wife, but she did not look at him when the afternoon and died, "is no longer valid worth knowing "and Dagoberto said the fainting hear before falling dead under the grape arbor.