no other value, another value beyond this doesn’t exist, clear and simple, it’s the only value that exists. Which is why it makes me laugh that you’re here, Moya, I don’t understand how it could have occurred to you to come to this country, to return to this country, to settle here, it’s truly absurd if you’re interested in writing literature, this demonstrates that really you’re not interested in writing literature, no one interested in literature could opt for a country as degenerate as this, where no one reads literature, where the few who could read, never read it; just to give you an idea, Moya, the Jesuits discontinued the literature major in the university because no one reads literature, no one’s interested in literature here, which is why they discontinued the course of study, because there are no students of literature, all the kids want to study business administration, this is what interests them, not literature, in this country everyone wants to study business administration, in reality, in a few years, there won’t be anything else but business administrators, a country whose every inhabitant will be a business administrator, this is the truth, the horrible truth, said Vega, no one’s interested in literature, in history, or in anything that has to do with thinking or the humanities, which is why not one university offers a history major; it’s an incredible country, Moya, no one studies history because there aren’t any history courses, there’s no history major because no one’s interested in history, it’s the truth, said Vega. And still the clueless of the world call this place a “nation,” what nonsense, it’s an idiocy that would be funny if it weren’t grotesque: how can you call a place a “nation” if it’s populated by individuals interested in neither general history nor anything about their own history, a place populated by those whose only interest is to imitate soldiers and business administrators, said Vega. It’s totally revolting, Moya, total revulsion is what this country produces in me. And I’ve only been here fifteen days, dedicated to taking care of the formalities of selling my mother’s house, fifteen days is enough to confirm that nothing’s progressed here, nothing’s changed, the civil war just served a group of politicians who made it about themselves, the hundred thousand dead are only a macabre by-product for a group of ambitious politicians who shared a shit sandwich, said Vega. Politicians stink everywhere, Moya, but in this country the politicians really stink, I can assure you that you’ve never seen politicians who stink worse than they do here; maybe it’s because a hundred thousand cadavers expelled every one of those politicians from their murdered asses, maybe the blood of those hundred thousand cadavers makes the stench of the politicians here so unique, maybe the suffering of those hundred thousand dead impregnated the politicians with this particular way of stinking, said Vega. I’ve never seen politicians so ignorant, so savagely ignorant, so obviously illiterate, Moya, it’s clear to anyone with the least bit of education that their ability to read has especially atrophied, once they open their mouths to speak you can tell it’s been a long time since they exerted their ability to read, as such the worst thing that could happen to a politician would be to have to read aloud in public; I assure you that in this country there’s no need to have a debate between candidates, it would be tremendous, Moya, it would be enough to ask the candidates to read whatever text aloud in public, I swear that only the smallest possible fraction of them would pass the test of reading aloud fluently in public. They bend over backward to appear on television, Moya, it’s horrible, if you turn on the television at breakfast, on every channel there’s an idiot asking the same idiotic questions to politicians who only respond with idiocies. It’s only good for killing you a little bit, Moya, for forcing you to vomit your breakfast, for ruining your day. Television is already a plague; sure, in Montreal I don’t have a television, but here at my brother’s house, where I’ve stayed until this morning, they’ve forced me to watch television while eating meals; you wouldn’t believe it, Moya, the television is in front of the dining table, it’s horrible, you can’t eat normally, you can’t have any sort of normal meal, because the television’s on ready to disturb your nerves. Which is why I’ve had to watch against my will and listen to these politicians reeking of the blood of the hundred thousand people they sent to their deaths thanks to their big ideas; these dismal types with their hands on the future of this country produce in me a tremendous revulsion, Moya, it doesn’t matter if they’re right-wing or left-wing, they’re equally vomitous, equally corrupt, equally thieving, you can see in their faces how anxious they are to rob what they can; few of them really care, Moya, you only have to turn on the television to see in their ugly mugs how anxious they are to plunder whatever they can from everyone, these crooks in suits and ties that once had their feast of blood, their orgy of crimes, they dedicate themselves now to a feast, an orgy, of plundering, said Vega. But let’s have a toast, Moya, we don’t want to spoil our reunion thanks to these castrated politicians that each day ruin my meals, appearing on the television that my brother and his wife turn on the minute they sit down at the dining table. And the worst are these miserable politicians on the left, Moya, those who were once guerrillas, the so-called comandantes, those are the ones who produce in me the worst revulsion, I never thought they’d be such fakes, such lowlifes, so vile; they’re truly revolting subjects, after sending so many people to death, after slaughtering so many innocent people, after tiring of repeating their idiocies they referred to as their ideals, now they act like voracious rats changed out of guerrilla military uniforms into suits and ties, they’re rats that changed their spiels about justice for whatever crumbs fell from the tables of the rich, rats that only wanted to take control of the state so they could plunder it, truly revolting rats, Moya, it’s a shame to think about all those imbeciles who died thanks to these rats, I feel sorry thinking about those thousands of imbeciles who were killed for following orders from those rats: those tens of thousands of imbeciles who enthusiastically went to their death following orders from those rats that now only think about acquiring the most possible money so they can seem like the rich they once fought, said Vega. Let’s order another round of whiskeys, Moya, let’s toast that it’s still early, Tolín is on top of everything and serves us generous drinks; I’ll ask him to put on the Concerto in B-flat Minor for piano and orchestra by Tchaikovsky, this evening I want to listen to Tchaikovsky’s Concerto in B-flat Minor, which is why I brought my own CD with this stupendous concerto for piano and orchestra, which is why I came prepared with my favorite Tchaikovsky. Do you remember Olmedo, Moya, our friend from school, that idiot who always got excellent grades and tried to stay in good standing with the Marist Brothers? That really boring and undesirable guy who seemed like a priest thanks to his enormous desire to be in good standing with the priests? He was the only one in our class who went with the guerrillas, Moya, they told me about it a while ago, the only one from our class who died in the ranks of the guerrillas, that idiot Olmedo. You know what’s even worse? They executed their own comrades, executed them by firing squad in San Vicente, those rats who have become politicians ordered the execution, they executed him as a traitor, that cretin Olmedo, he’s the only one from our class who died in the civil war, thanks to his imbecility, you could already see it forming at school, you remember, a guy who thanks to his naivety was executed by those rats, said Vega. They told me all about it recently: Olmedo was one of the hundreds of naive kids assassinated thanks to accusations that those rats were being infiltrated by the enemy, hundreds were assassinated by their own leaders who charged them with treason, they were assassinated by their own leaders’ orders on the outskirts of the San Vicente volcano. Horrible, Moya, Olmedo was such a poor imbecile, he found the death he sought. It’s horrible to think about the happiness with which some people kill in this country, the ease with which thousands go to their sacrifice like sheep for their vomitous causes, killed for their vomitous causes, ready to die for their vomitous causes, said Vega. And for what? So a party of thieves disguised as politicians can share the booty. It’s incredible, Moya, really incredible, human stupidity has no limits, particularly in this country where people raise human stupidity to unusual heights, only in this way can one explain how the most popular politician in the past twenty years was a psychopathic criminal, only in this way can one explain how a psychopathic criminal who assassinated thousands in an anticommunist crusade transformed himself into the most popular politician, how a psychopathic criminal, who ordered the assassination of the archbishop of San Salvador, became the most charismatic politician, the most loved, not only by the rich but by the general population, it’s a revolting, monstrous fact, if you think about it, Moya, a psychopathic criminal who assassinated the archbishop is transformed into a hero of the fatherland and transmuted into a statue paying homage to the people, because this torturer assassin blasphemed with such brutality that his tongue rotted with cancer, his throat rotted with cancer, his body rotted with cancer, only in this country and with these people could barbarism of such magnitude occur, it’s so revolting that this psychopathic criminal could be transformed into a founding father, said Vega. Which is why, once I complete the sale of my mother’s house, I’m leaving as soon as I can for Montreal, Moya, even if the house still hasn’t sold, even if I have to leave the responsibility for the sale to my brother, to confide in him, even if in the end he deceives me and keeps my share of the sale of my mother’s house, even if I lose the only inheritance my mother left me because my brother robs me of my share of the money, I prefer to leave as soon as possible, Moya, I cannot endure another minute, I could die of revulsion, of a profound and burning corrosion in my spirit, I will leave even if I have to before the sale; thinking about it, I could wait at most a week, but I don’t have any reason to wait two weeks, tomorrow I’ll change my reservation to immediately after the lawyer says I have to sign all the necessary papers, said Vega. I don’t want anything to do with this country, Moya, other than to come here each day to have a couple of drinks at this bar between five and seven in the evening and sign the documents related to the house we inherited from my mother. I have nothing to do with this place. Listen to me closely, Moya, I’m sure that my brother will do everything possible to rob me of my share of the money from selling my mother’s house, I’ve seen it coming from a long way away, he has every intention of taking the money from the house in Miramonte that my mother passed down to both of us, I could see from a long way away that he’s worked with a lawyer to try to rob me of my small inheritance, because my brother Ivo never thought that my mother would include me in her will, he was always sure that my total absence from the country excluded me, and that he (Ivo) would be the only inheritor, he who would actually snatch the house in Miramonte, said Vega. Which is why Ivo must have been surprised when the notary read him the will that said that my mother had passed her house in Miramonte down to her two sons, with the only condition that I come to her funeral, after which he wrote me that it was up to me to decide what to do with this house. I’m completely sure, Moya, that if my brother Ivo had read the will by himself the moment my mother died, he wouldn’t have alerted me, I’m entirely sure he would have invented something to keep me from coming here to claim my part of the inheritance, to get me to not fulfill the clause my mother included in her will. But Clara, Ivo’s wife, unwisely called me minutes after my mother died, an unwise act that at the time seemed irrelevant to them, because they were both sure that I wouldn’t return to the country, even if my mother was dead, but neither of them knew about the clause in the will that my mother had given to the notary, neither was aware that my mother had let me know already that if I weren’t present at the funeral ceremonies, she wouldn’t leave me any part of the Miramonte house, they both already believed they owned the Miramonte house, said Vega. And so it didn’t shock Ivo and Clara when I announced that I would arrive the following day, when I asked them to delay my mother’s burial until then, and when I entered the funeral parlor from the airport. Two days later the notary read us my mother’s will in which she gave me rights over the Miramonte house, Moya, a house valued at one hundred thousand dollars because it’s located just two blocks from the Camino Real Hotel, a house that my brother didn’t have the least intention of selling because he wasn’t desperate for the money, a house in which I lived practically my entire life in San Salvador, a house unrecognizable from the outside thanks to the cement wall surrounding it, a wall that never existed while I lived there, a wall that’s not exclusive to my mother’s house, Moya, because the terror everyone feels here has made them convert their homes into walled fortresses, a horrible landscape, Moya, this city of walled houses like barracks, each house is a little barrack the way each person is a little sergeant, both are evident, Moya, and now the enormous wall surrounding my mother’s house is the best example, Vega said. My brother Ivo couldn’t believe what my mother put in her will, he also couldn’t believe that I was interested in selling the walled house as soon as possible, anxious to rid myself of the walled house without the least delay, Moya, he couldn’t believe the fact that I only wanted to secure some forty-five thousand dollars as quickly as possible, since I didn’t have the least intention of returning to this country; for nothing in the world would I step foot here, this is what I told my brother and the lawyer, my only purpose is to sell the walled Miramonte house for money that will let me live more comfortably in Montreal and never again return to this revolting country, said Vega. My brother Ivo and I are the most different people you can imagine, Moya, we don’t resemble each other in any way, we have not a single thing in common, no one would believe we’re from the same mother, we’re so different we never even became friends, only a few acquaintances know we share the same parents, the same last name, the same house, said Vega. We haven’t seen each other for eighteen years. We never write each other. The half dozen times my mother would call me and he’d be with her, Moya, we’d hardly exchange hellos or commonplaces; we never called each other because we didn’t have anything to say, each of us lived without having to think about the other, because we’re complet