(13)
And her lips trembled with the tears that distorted her face where he had slipped the muzzle, and hands, bent, still scratching the wood where it was losing bits of nail and that little warm voice also wept and said, at his side –
– And mother, Alba?
Dídac had followed her from the pond, where she had crossed the street and was visited by death, she had jumped mountains of rubble, and the maze of alleys.
– Because we lived there, along with Margaret, years ago, who went out to serve herself and was left pregnant by a black man.
Alba hugged him, pressing him against her in a desperate gesture, but she interrupted his cry and went to straighten the sharp body of the nine year old child, who begged a cry:
– She’s not dead, right?
(14)
And they had died. They found it (death) at the foot of the stove, after having penetrated into the house through a hole in the roof, and she still had a spoon in her hands with which she must have been ready to stir the pasta that could be seen in the an intact, clay pot.
The boy embraced her with a beastly cry/the whimper of a bug and called out to her as is if she was sleeping and just wanted to rest, while Alba stroked his curly hair and left him to vent, now with dry eyes, though her heart inflated as if tears sprouted there, in the crevices of the arrhythmic beats.
After Dídac had clung onto her like a castaway grips wood and wet his cheeks with his tears all the while babbling nonsense words. She said:
– They must have killed everyone.
(15)
When she was explaining to him what had happened with the aircraft, which he hadn’t seen because of being under the water, they heard an unexpected trill that makes them turn towards the courtyard’s window that still had its windowsill, and they saw the intact cage straightaway, with the bird flapping its wings.
The goldfinch!
Dídac got his hands off Alba’s neck and straightened his back.
It’s Xica…
The young girl, feeling hopeful, was squeezing her hands against her breasts to calm her unbridled heart.
Author: catalaucc
45
I els llavis li tremolaven amb el plor que li desencaixava la cara d’on el morrió havia lliscat, i les mans, obstinades, continuaven gratant la fusta on va anar perdent fragments d’ungla fins que la petita veu tèbia, que també plorava, digué al seu costat:
– I la mare, Alba?
En Dídac l’havia seguida des de la resclosa, havia recorregut com ella els carrers visitats per la mort, havia saltat muntanyes de runa i, pel laberint dels carrerons, acabava de fer cap al seu cau. Perquè vivia allí, al costat, amb la Margarida que, anys enrera, se’n va anar a servir a fora i va deixar-se prenyar per un negre.
L’Alba se li abraçà, el va prémer contra seu amb un gest desesperat, però va interrompre el por que encara li nuava la gola i es va anar redreçant, sostinguda pel cos infantil, de nou anys, que pidolava amb un somiqueig:
– No s’ha mort, oi?
I s’havia mort. La van trobar als peus del fogó. Després d’haver penetrat a la casa per un forat del sostre, i encara tenia a les mans una cullera amb què devia estar a punt de remenar la pasta que es veia en una olla de terrissa, intacta.
El noi va abraçar-se-li amb un renill de bestiola i la cridava com si ella dormís i la volgués fer despertar mentre l’Alba li amoixava els cabells arrissats i els deixava desfogar, ara amb els ulls eixuts, tot i que el cor se li inflava com si les llàgrimes brollessin allí, en les clivelles dels batecs arítmics.
Després en Dídac va arrapar-se-li com una nàufrag que s’agafa en una fusta i li mullà les galtes amb el seu plor tot balbucejant mots sense sentit. Ella digué:
– Deuen haver matat tothom.
I quan li explicava allò dels avions, que ell no havia vist perquè era sota l’aigua, van sentir un inesperat refilet que els va fer girar cap a la finestra del pati, que conservava l’ampit, i, de seguida, van veure la gàbia, sencera, de l’ocell, que movia les ales.
– La cadernera?
En Dídac va despendre les seues mans del coll de l’Alba i es va redreçar.
– La Xica…
La noia, esperançada, es premia les mans contra els pits per tal d’aquietar el cor que gairebé li saltava.
– No estem sols, Dídac, no estem sols!
44
(10)
And everywhere, half buried by rubble, inside the parked cars, on the streets, there were corpses, a huge amount of corpses, all their concrete faces had a strange sneer and they had yellow-rose hair.
They hadn’t been beaten by either stones or beams of lights, some even resting in clean spaces and lying whole, without any visible blood or wounds, simply fallen as if struck by lightning. Others, however, hung from open soils or everything had been removed but one limb, or at the end, between the debris that imprisoned them. She knew almost all of them; they were neighbours, friends, people she was accustomed to seeing every day.
Also there had to be her parents.
(11)
And then she ran again, puffing under a shred of her blouse that she had wrapped in her face like a muzzle, because of the dust that made her cough. She moved towards the main square, where the belfry’s higher part, practically untouched, erected straight over the church’s ruins that closed the entrance to the back alleys, which were sufficiently narrow to make her climb piles of furniture walls and corpses, and to make her descend by embankments with its surface rolling away down her feet.
She was orienting herself in a city’s geography now unknown, she crossed a slope on the ground floor of a building that collapsed and nearly hung her. She jumped a high wall, her shorts got caught and tore in half, fastened only by the waistband and then she continued by a short and deserted street which had been flooded running towards the bend in the road where her house was.
(12)
And the house was no longer there. The two floors of the building had fallen over the low ceilings, which must now also have been demolished behind the door, the wall slightly inflated with pressure, closing the tomb where her father lay, her mother, her sister who would have married next month..
She raised her hands, flattened against the solid wood, letting them slide slowly along with her, her whole body sagging on her disadvantaged legs until the laps touch the ground that was full of studs. All of her, indifferent to the physical pain, curled up and muttering:
– Mother! Mother….
44
(10)
I arreu, mig colgats per les runes, a l’interior del cotxes aturats, pels carrers, hi havia cadàvers, una gran quantitat de cadàvers, tots amb la cara concreta en un rictus estrany i la pell groc-rosada.
No els havien abatut ni pedres ni cap de biga, cat alguns reposaven en espais nets i jeien sencers, sense sang visible ni ferides, simplement caiguts com sota el llamp de l’apoplexia. D’altre, en canvi, penjaven dels trespols oberts o treien tot just un membre, o el cap, d’entre els enderrocs que els empresonaven. Ella el coneixia gairebé tots; eren veïns, amics, gent que estava acostumada a veure cada dia.
També hi devia haver els seus pares.
(11)
I va tornar a córrer, ara panteixant sota un esquinçall de brusa que s’havia lligat a la cara a tall de morrió contra la pols que la feia estossegar. Es va moure cap a la plaça, on el capdamunt del campanar, gairebé intocat, s’alçava ben dret sobre les unes de l’església, i tallaven l’entrada als carrerons del darrera, prou estrets per obligar-la a escalar turons de mobles, de tàpia, de cadàvers, i a davallar per terraplens la superfície dels quals rodolava sota els seus peus.
Va anar orientant-se per una geografia ciutadana ací desconeguda, travessà pels talús d’uns baixos que després es van enfonsar i gairebé la colgaren, va saltar un mur alt on s’enganxà un camal dels shorts , que van obrir-se de dalt a baix, retinguts només per la trinxa, i, per un carrer curt i badívol, però inundat per una fon improvisada , continuà corrent cap al tombant on hi havia casa seva.
(12)
I ara la casa ja no ho era. Els dos pisos de la construcció s’havien precipitat damunt el sostre dels baixos, el qual també es devia haver ensulsiat darrera la porta que ara, amb la pared lleugerament inflada per la pressió, tancava la tomba on reposaven el pare, la mare, la germana que s’havia de casar el mes vinent…
Va alçar les mans, les aplanà contra la fusta sòlida mi després, les va anar deixant relliscar lentament, amb tot el cos que cedia sobre les cames desvalgudes fins els genolls van tocar el terra ple de guixots, i tota ella, indiferent al dolor físic, es va arraulir bo i mormolant:
– Mare! Mare…
43
(7)
I després va veure que tots dos eren ajaçats a terra, garratibats i amb les faccions contretes, com colpits per un atac d’apoplexia que els hagués deixats amb la cara groc-rosada. El cistellet s’havia capgirat i totes les figues eren excampades a llur entorn, però no n’havien menjat, car tenien els llavis nets. En Dídac, que es redreçava, preguntà
– Què fan, Alba?
– No ho sé… Anem, que no et volen.
– Vols dir que no són morts?
(8)
I llavors, l’Alba, que es girava en adonar-se que tenia un gran esquinç a la brusa, va alçar la vista cap al poble i obrí la boca sense que li’n sortís cap so. Al seu davant, a tres-cents metres, Benaura semblava un altre, més pla; sota la pols que hi penjava com una boira llorda i persistent, les cases s’amuntegaven les unes damunt les altres, com esclafades per una gran mà barroera. Tornà a tancar els llavis, va obrir-los de nou i exclamà:
– Oh!
I tot seguit, sense recordar-se que la brusa ja no li amagava les sines, va arrencar a córrer camí avall.
(9)
I a la vila no quedava res dempeus. Els edificis s’havien aclofat sobre ells mateixos, talment com si de cop i volta els haguessin flaquejat les parets, sobre les runes de les quals havien caigut les teulades. Tot de pedres i de teules partides eren escampades pels carrers i cobrien, sobretot, les voreres, però l’esfondrament era massa aplomat per haver deixat intransitables les vies més amples, per on ja corria l’aigua de les canonades esbotzades que, en alguns llocs, alçaven guèisers impetuosos entre la polsegura.
En molts indrets, els murs baixos continuaven drets, com per contenir a l’interior el vessament dels pisos alts amuntegats, en alguns casos, entre parets que, esquerdades i tot, havien resistit l’impuls ferotge d’un atac anihilador. Perquè tot alloò ho havien fet aquells aparells misteriosos, l’Alba n’estava segura.
43
(7)
And then she saw that they were lying down on the ground, flabbergasted and with their features contorted, as stunned as if they had had a stroke that had left their faces the colour of jaundice. The basket was upside down and all the figs were scattered around, although they hadn’t eaten them, because she saw their lips were clean. Dídac, who was recovering, asked:
– What are they doing, Alba?
– I don’t know… C’mon, they don’t want you.
– You mean they aren’t dead?
(8)
And then Alba, who turned in realization that she had a large tear on her blouse, lifted her head to the village and opened her mouth without making a sound. In front of her, about 300 meters away, Benaura seemed to be something else, flatter; below the dust that hung like a distinguished and persistent fog, the houses crowded on top of each other as though they had been crushed by a crude hand. She closed her lips again, re-opened them, and exclaimed:
“Oh!”
And then, without remembering that the blouse no longer covered her breasts, she ran off down the road.
(9)
And there was nothing left standing in the town. The buildings had been crushed, as if suddenly the walls had wavered above the debris which had fallen through the roof. All the stones and the roof were scattered on the streets and they covered, completely, the sidewalks, but the collapse was so severe that it had left the wider roads impassable, where the water ran though the broken pipes, in some places, spouting raging geysers between the dust.
In many places, the low walls continued right, as if the inside contained runoff from the piled high flats, in some cases, between walls that, completely cracked, had resisted the fierce impulse of an annihilating attack. Why those mysterious devices had done all of that, Alba was unsure.
42
And in the water, when she had already swam to the depths, Alba felt as though she was pulled by the strength of an internal movement that wanted to take her back to the surface, but she fought vigorously. With all of her knuckles against the waves and the swirls that altered the usual calm of the pond, she threw her arms out with effort to the place where she’d seen Dídac disappear.
Another commotion in the water, more intense, separated her from the bank without overpowering her, as she opposed all her will and resources of her distress. Beneath the vortex that she was about to conquer, she still sank and swam to the plants that imprisoned the boy.
And without touching the ground, in water that now was suddenly calm again, she pulled Dídac from the scrambling plants, among the tendrils from where other children had found death, and, without him giving any trouble, since he had lost consciousness, she dragged him with one hand, while the other and her legs opened a hole to the surface, where her bated breath exploded, like a bubble that has been pierced, before continuing to swim to where the river shallowed out.
As she climbed and hoisted the boy’s lifeless body, she still had time to see how the clouds of devices disappeared over the horizon to the east.
And, without entertaining herself, Alba lay down in Dídac on the edge of the grass, she removed as much water as she could, she turned his face upwards to see if he gave any signs of life, she sunk her mouth between his lips in order to pass air through his lungs until the boy blinked and moved, as if her mouth had bothered him.
She pulled his wet clothes off so the sun could dry his body. It was only when he recovered that he realised that the boys who had pushed him had gone.
42
I dins l’aigua, quan ja nedava cap a les pregoneses, l’Alba es va sentir com estirada per la puixança d’un moviment interior que volia endur-se-la altre cop a la superfície, però ella lluità enèrgicament i amb tot el seu braó contra les onades i els remolins, que alteraven la calma habitual del toll, i bracejà amb esforç per atansar-se a l’indret on havia vist desaparèixer en Dídac.
Una altra commoció de l’aigua, més intensa, l’apartà de la riba sense vèncer-la, car ella li oposà tota la seva voluntat i els recursos de la seva destresa i, per sota el vòrtex que estava a punt de dominar-la, s’enfonsà encara i va nedar cap a les lianes que empresonaven el noi.
I sense tocar terra, ara en una aigua que tornava a encalmar-se sobtadament, va arrencar en Dídac de les plantes grimpaires, entre els circells de les quals d’altres infants havien trobat la mort, i, sense que ell li donés cap feina, puix que havia perdut el coneixement, va arrossegar-lo amb una mà, mentre l’altra i les cames obrien un solc cap a la superfície, on la respiració continguda va explotar-li, com una bombolla que es forada, abans de continuar nedant fins on la riba baixava a nivell de l’aigua.
En enfilar-s’hi i hissar-hi el cos exànime del noi, encara va tenir temps de veure com el núvol d’aparells desapareixia per l’horitzó de llevant.
I, sense entretenir-se, l’Alba va ajeure en Dídac de bocons sobre l’herba del marge, va fer-li treure tanta aigua com pogué, el girà de cara enlaire en comprovar que encara no donava senyals de vida i enfonsà la boca entre els seus llavis per tal de passar-li l’aire dels propis pulmons fins que el noi parpellejà i es va moure, com si aquella boca estranya li fes nosa.
Va treure-li la roba xopa perquè el sol eixugués el seu cos, va friccionar-lo encara, tota abocada al seu damunt, i només llavors, quan ell ja es recobrava, se li acudí d’estranyar-se que els dos nois que l’havien empès no haguessin acudit.
41
‘Mecanoscrit del segon origen’
L’Alba, una noia de catorze anys, verge I bruna, tornava de l’hort de casa seva amb un cistellet de figues negres, de coll de dama, quan s’aturà a avergonyir dos nois, que n’apallissaven un altre i el feien caure al toll de la resclosa, i els va dir:
– Què us ha fet?
I ells li van contestar:
– No el volem amb nosaltres, perquè és negre.
– I si s’ofega?
I ells es van arronsar d’espatlles, car eren dos nois formats en un ambient cruel, de prejudicis.
I aleshores, quan l’Alba ja deixava el cistellet per tal de llançar-se a l’aigua sense ni treure’s la roba, puix que només duia uns shorts i una brusa sobre la pell, el cel i la terra van començar a vibrar amb una mena de trepidació sorda que s’anava accentuant, i un dels nois, que havia alçat el cap, digué:
– Mireu!
Tots tres van poder veure una gran formació d’aparells que s’atansava remorosament de la llunyania, i n’hi havia tants que cobrien l’horitzó. L’altre noi va dir:
– Són platets voladors, tu!
I l’Alba va mirar encara un moment cap als estranys objectes ovalats i plans que avançaven de pressa cap a la vila mentre la tremolor de la terra i de l’aire augmentava i el soroll creixia, però va pensar de nou en el fill de la seva veïna Margarida, en Dídac, que havia desaparegut en les profunditats de la resclosa, i es va capbussar en l’aigua, darrera els nois, que s’havien oblidat del tot de llur acció i ara deien:
– Guaita com brillen! Semblen de foc!
41
‘Mecanoscrit del segon origen’:
Alba, a fourteen year old girl, virgin and brunette, was coming back from her house’s orchard with a basket full of ‘coll de dama‘ black figs when she stopped to scold two boys for beating another boy, pushing him towards the weir. She said:
“What did he do?”
And they answered, “We don’t want him with us because he’s black.”
“And what happens if he drowns?”
And they shrugged their shoulders, because they were two boys, grown in a ruthless environment, full of prejudices.
And then, when Alba had already left the basket to plunge into the water without removing her clothes, since she was only wearing shorts and a blouse on her skin, the sky and the earth began to vibrate with a kind of deaf trepidation that was accentuating, and one of the boys who had raised his head said:
“Look!”
All three saw an apparatus forming and approaching from the distance, and there were so many that covered the horizon. The other boy said:
“They’re flying saucers, man!”
And Alba looked still for a moment at the strange flat oval objects that advanced hastily towards the town, while the earth and the air trembled and the noise grew, but she thought back to her neighbour Margarita’s boy, Dídac, who had disappeared into the depths of the weir, and she dived into the water, behind the boys, who had completely forgotten about what they were doing, and who now said:
“Look at them shine! They look like fire!”