And Farax? What happened to Farax, who disappeared almost before he completely appeared, the Abelito Caballero who shimmers in a fleeting dream that vanishes upon waking? After I’d finished reading the diaries and letters I found in the wardrobe, I didn’t have a clear answer; past a certain point Farax and Abelito are wiped out as if they’d been written in erasable ink. I ask Aunt Sofi what happened to Farax, You tell me, Sofi, if you don’t know then no one knows because Grandmother Blanca never mentions him again in her memoirs, she simply ignores him as if he never existed. I’d say that Farax must have stayed with us at the big house in Sasaima for three or four months after my father returned to Germany, answers Aunt Sofi, some three or four months, until one morning he was gone, taking his alpaca jacket, his old knapsack, and his lead soldiers, and heading off in the direction he’d come from, along the road to Anapoima. Maybe he didn’t think there was any reason for him to stay since there was no one to teach him piano anymore, or maybe he refused to accept the too-weighty inheritance that my father had left him, maybe he never loved my mother, or maybe he loved her too much, maybe he glimpsed expectations that unsettled him in my eyes or Eugenia’s, who knows what it may have been. All I can say is that Farax was left as far behind as the days of our adolescence, and that Abelito Caballero disappeared one fine day just as my father disappeared, except that he left by the road, not the river; all I know is that we never heard a thing about either of the two, or rather, three, of them again, because my mother never offered any explanation or once mentioned their names.
I WAS PUTTING ON one of those old pairs of pants that Marta Elena still kept in her closet when I heard women’s voices in the living room; one was Marta Elena’s own voice and the other was also familiar but for the moment unrecognizable, then there was a third female voice, this one belonging to an older woman, like Aunt Sofi, and I thought it might be Margarita, Marta Elena’s mother, although I was surprised because I knew that she was ill and housebound, so still shirtless and barefoot, I hid behind the bedroom door, and, peering out, I discovered that the woman talking in the living room was actually Aunt Sofi, and that Agustina was with her.
Standing there before Marta Elena, who had yet to recover from her astonishment, and Aunt Sofi, who didn’t know what to do with herself, was my Agustina, transformed into a kind of social worker, or at best a nosy and insistent neighbor, speaking to Marta Elena in a strangely impersonal, bossy voice, giving orders and pedantically pointing out everything that was out of place according to the principles of feng shui; Agustina was an expert in feng shui and was advising a terrified Marta Elena on how she should reorganize her house. Then Agustina started wandering around without asking permission, going in and out of the boys’ rooms and speaking exasperatingly fast, and my heart flip-flopped when I realized that in a few seconds she would come into Marta Elena’s room and find me there freshly showered and half dressed.
At first my instinct was to hide under the bed like an illicit lover in a B movie, but I was immediately struck by a realization; what had initially been panic at the idea that Agustina would find me turned into the absolute joy of my sudden insight, into the ear-to-ear smile that must have appeared on my face when I realized in a flash what was happening, Agustina is looking for me, I thought, Agustina has come here to take me back, she missed me last night and today she’s come to find me. From that moment on, I found the whole scene amusing and even joyous, despite how surreal it was and despite Marta Elena’s fright and the consternation of Aunt Sofi, who tried as best she could to explain to me that it had been impossible to prevent Agustina from leaving the apartment, And how did she know I was here? I don’t know, my boy, she just knew, it wasn’t hard to guess, It’s all right, Aunt Sofi, I said and in fact it was more than all right, I was nearly bursting with the happiness of knowing that Agustina, in her crazy way, had come looking for me.
I stood still, behind the bedroom door, and Agustina blew into the room, passing me without turning to look at me, as if I were a ghost, because what she was doing now was critiquing furniture, objecting to vases, ordering Marta Elena to change the color of the walls, Who would ever think to paint an entire house this anemic yellow? only someone extremely old-fashioned and boring. I’m very sorry, Señora — she always called Marta Elena Señora, not once using her name — but all the beds here are facing the wrong way, it’s terrible for inner balance to set the heads toward the south, even you should know that, and it would be a good idea to increase the feng shui tein so you have some circulation of northern energy. She even poked around in Marta Elena’s closet, pronouncing it untidy and recommending that she get rid of all her worn-out shoes and outdated clothes, These clothes make you look older, Señora; if you stop dressing in black, that gloomy face of yours might brighten up, Now, now, what have we here, she said when she saw my clothes, Oh no, this is no good, if your husband is gone, Señora, you should return his clothes to him and take back the space, you don’t want to expose yourself to the possibility that when you find a new man he’ll discover that his place is already taken.
I didn’t know whether to cry or to laugh, unsure whether Agustina was raving or just pretending in order to harass Marta Elena, Look, Señora, these drawers crammed with useless junk do nothing for the place, and they block the chi and weaken the yang energy flow. Everything that was happening was so absurd, that several times I had to stifle a laugh, like when Agustina blasted an oil painting hanging in the living room and demanded that it be taken down immediately, and in the midst of it all I rejoiced, thinking that she was right, that the painting in question, which I had always hated and which Marta Elena had systematically imposed on the living room of each of our successive homes, really was appalling. I would have reveled in it all if my ex hadn’t been so upset, For God’s sake, Aguilar, what’s wrong with your wife? she asked me through clenched teeth when we were left alone for an instant, I don’t know what’s wrong with her, she’s just crazy, I answered, I who had never confessed to her how serious Agustina’s mental problem was, at most mentioning something in passing like, Agustina gets depressed, or Agustina is very nervous, but that was all I had said, with the result that now, with no warning and in Marta Elena’s own house, this whirlwind was unleashed, What’s the point of a double bed, Señora, it takes up too much space and as far as I know, you sleep alone. No one could stop my rabid plaything, nor was there a single object she didn’t find fault with, not even the plants, These pointy-leafed ones are no good, you’d better get some with rounded leaves, and I’d recommend that you hang a ba gua mirror surrounded by trigrams on that wall, put it up right away if you want to avoid disaster, Agustina decreed and as she uttered the word disaster her voice vibrated a little, as if she were predicting it. Marta Elena played along with her, taking down paintings and putting up mirrors while giving me looks of compassion, fear, and despondence, until finally she begged me, Take her away, Aguilar, I’m really sorry what’s happening to you, but take her away, work things out between the two of you, because this isn’t my funeral.
Meanwhile Agustina was in the bathroom, opening the cabinets one by one and calling out, Listen, Señora, this is very bad, you shouldn’t have so much medicine in the house, self-medication can be deadly, this cream has cortisone in it, I wouldn’t recommend it, and this one isn’t good either, it’s not smart to rely on antibiotics; How funny, I thought, it was as if Agustina had sensed my idle musings about moving back into this house and had come expressly to pick it to pieces, to completely demolish both the place and the thoughts, or who knows, it’s possible that my Blimunda actually did guess that for an instant I had begun to fail her. Aunt Sofi had fallen into an armchair and was making peculiar motions, something like repeated efforts to get up, though her legs were refusing to respond; Marta Elena was becoming increasingly annoyed that I was taking everything so lightly and it’s unclear how it all would have ended if Agustina hadn’t taken me by the hand, saying, Let’s go, and when Aunt Sofi tried to follow us, she stopped her, You stay here for a while and visit with this other lady, because sometimes it’s nice to let couples do things on their own, and all Aunt Sofi could do was laugh at the joke, while I for my part had become a person again, because it was the first time since the dark episode that the woman I adored was showing signs of needing me. Before we left, my rabid plaything grabbed a picture of me that was sitting framed on a little table and said, I’ll take this, too.