“I’m going to say it again: get married.”
How could they ever get married when they spent all their time together?
Which would he pick? To feed both — now there’s a thought — with luscious bodies, but their faces: better to keep lips sealed: that’s what a possible suitor would most likely think … They were, are, good women, singularly talented and well educated, but you couldn’t tell as much by looking at them. This is where desire comes into play: it’s possible that someone someday would win their hearts: one as opposed to the other: interesting because: “to each her own …”: indeed. Things get more complicated when we remember that because of their rare curse — having been marked before they were born by the hand of God or the Devil — the ingrates looked more and more alike as the years went by: a genuine conjugation, and apparently unavoidable. But, fortunate? Hmm … Next, they took the necessary step: to pack their suitcases. Two each, neither too heavy. No possession is worth much when there is so much money to spend.
Now for their send-off. Hands waving: farewell! in front of the house, like an embossment of such deep relief it perforates the page: the aunt, the shirtless smoking husband, and around them: the urchins, holding stilclass="underline" their mischief kept under wraps; they would have loved to run after the twins and lift up their skirts one last time, so they’d never forget their innocent pranks.
But there is restraint and irritability, if you wilclass="underline" ephemeral sorrows: yes: that seem to complement each other; there are: knots in throats that are easy to untangle and eyes staring long and hard in this direction: at the girls, who turn to look back out of a sense of duty, to express their gratitude with subtle effusion. Farewell … oh, dear! Then, they turn to face forward and catch a glimpse of a blurry figure that has yet to take shape; but sorrowful departures must not be prolonged or repeated, because saying good-bye more than once, according to a local superstition, is like spilling salt, or even like returning whence one hailed, because all paths are erased once taken. A curtain is drawn and behind it an improbable space opens up and … No. The Gamal twins sped up their steps: identical strands of hair blown in the breeze. To tell the truth: they were not heading anywhere in particular, at least not in spirit.
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Pedaling — in the present — to the rhythm of a song: there’s always something, here in Ocampo, for these machines that are almost human to do: their clientele has grown and will continue to do so if they keep at it … These days Constitución and Gloria think complacently of their humble beginnings. What a difficult position to take off from! Here: they’ve been settled for ten years after wandering from place to place looking for just the right conditions. Ocampo is it and will continue to be for as long as things go well.
Now let’s tell their tale: after they learned to work morning, noon, and night, their ambitions became so thoroughly sealed by the absolute value they placed on money that one peso poorly spent, they feared, would ruin them. With this as their guiding principle, they sustained the flow, and despite constant increases in costs and prices, it never devolved to a trickle. They never went under because they had learned their fundamental lesson: to live without luxuries.
Except — for to be miserly is also to err — they dipped into their capital to buy a portable black-and-white camera. It was very important that the pictures they took be true to their similitude: to prove it, constantly, but no, not even this was enough.
On the contrary, each revelation fused them more fully together: grimaces of hilarity and grimaces of gravity: one out of two or two in one or … Pretending they were poor was an affirming and robust lesson that stripped them of all incident and regret, and from such a tender age to eagerly envisage their endless toil at tailoring and dressmaking, see it with lyrical eyes and absorb it into their spirits, know that they might fall headlong into an absurd abyss if they strayed even a little — that’s what they gleaned from such dogged dedication.
In the meantime, they remained single — what of it? Enviable privilege and great courage were required to counter the advice of their aunt, with whom they kept in touch via exceedingly concise missives; from time to time Gloria sent photos and the other sent others: all against a backdrop of desolate desert landscapes and adobe walls: they sent them out of a sense of duty, and the response was always the same — arriving with alacrity wherever they were living: “Get married, you silly girls, and be quick about it! But don’t flirt with the first young man you meet; you have to be coy, give yourselves airs, or you’ll regret it …” They opened the envelopes together and with delectable malice. What mirrored mirth! So much reiteration was like a riddle without enough clues, an agonizing idea that never breaks through its own closed sphere.
But if we wished to draw conclusions, we’d be wrong to assert that they dug in their heels. Nothing of the sort! … “Better alone than in bad company” is a well-known expression they heard all too often throughout their long and arduous wanderings, and living without a husband’s agreeable ways made them feel more fulfilled … Sacrifice and faith: this is what they learned from remaining in their immaculate state, no matter where they happened to be, and the rewards of motherhood would come later.
Their eyes never strayed from their goaclass="underline" not even a peek at that wad of bills, for caprice too often trumps reason — yes, indeed! they knew this all too well — and they found work in a variety of places to pursue their larger purpose of becoming accomplished seamstresses, earning humiliating salaries in exchange for learning those sundry skills. Luck was on their side, even in this, for every town and every village needs somebody to make clothes. They became so proficient, whether sewing by machine or by hand, that they were able to formulate a theory. This, then, is the principle:
“The secret is in the needle after the scissors have made their cut.” And a long explanation follows.
One was the other’s teacher and the other also had to be hers. Their nighttime conversations, accompanied by romantic music and generous libations, usually turned on the conundrum of velocity versus perfection: which?: one has to be better, but according to what or to whom?
At that point, they really did have to think about their future. That’s why they looked at the stash still packed away in that plastic bag Soledad had given them … The truth is, they hesitated, but … They considered Ocampo, a peaceful town with friendly people, and found plenty of reasons to test their luck there.
They made their decision one bright, sunny day: to go there right away and invest most of their inheritance. Nearly sight unseen, they bought a not very big house with a rather rustic patio; they also bought a couple of used sewing machines: Singer, top of the line, as well as a spot to set up their new shop. They doled out money for furniture, necessities, knickknacks, making purchases here and there and … Finally, all of it: the whole story in Lamadrid, their parents’ horrendous accident and — to top it off — profane burial, then their life in Nadadores, their setbacks, their recoveries, at some point all got spirited away: cruel memories: except Soledad, their legendary aunt whom they never visited because they didn’t want to quarrel, for by now they were in their thirties and had their own opinions, though they appreciated her for her honesty, for having helped them get on their feet: but not for her own self, not for her company.