While our aides took our luggage upstairs to the rooms assigned to us, we went to the basement game room. Juan was playing with Fatty Artajo, who was a rotten player. When we appeared, they put down their cues and looked solemn. "We're going to have to ask you to make a great sacrifice, Lupe...." She lifted her veil (because she was wearing a hat and everything) and I felt instinctively that she loved her husband so dearly that she would be receptive to my advances if I agreed to let him go. Or rather, she loved his money so dearly. I stood there, looking her over, then thought to myself: This woman isn't worth anywhere near 600,000 pesos, but said nothing to her. Selections from The Lightning of August by Jorge Ibarguengoitia, edition by Chattos & Windus, London 1986. Translated by Irene del Corral. |