Swift as Desire Part 5

Tell me your roses bloomed for me

Give me the smile that gives me hope

Tell me I haven't lost you

Give me the tranquillity of your soul

Come, with the moon I will show you my cabana

Counting the hours of the night, I will wait

Know woman that my love for you is true

Know it, know it well ...

He couldn't stop thinking about Lucha. The music only served to remind him of the previous night, because these same songs had provided a musical background for their lovemaking. Lucha! Was she thinking of him too? Try as he could not to imagine anything bad, he failed. It seemed very suspicious that she hadn't been in touch. The only reason he could think of was that she'd been in an accident...or that don Pedro had invited her out with him. His nerves were on edge. To calm them he turned first to cigarettes and then, when they ran out, he moved on to alcohol. It was bad luck that just at that moment Ramiro woke up. It was time for him to eat, but his mother wasn't there to feed him. Jubilo tried to give him a bottle filled with cow's milk from the refrigerator. While it was warming up, he held the infant in his arms so that his crying wouldn't wake Raul. But as soon as Ramiro noticed the smell coming from his father's body, his crying escalated dramatically, and there was no way to quiet him.

Jubilo had to apply cologne, brush his teeth, suck on mints, and coo to his son for hours before he was able to make him fall asleep again. He put Ramiro in his crib and lay back down on the bed. The alcohol and acc.u.mulated exhaustion of two full days and nights without sleep took effect and Jubilo slept deeply for a few minutes. It wasn't long, but it was long enough for Ramiro to wake up again, pull the blanket that his father had covered him with over his face, and suffocate.

Jubilo awoke to Lucha's screams. She had just arrived home, and before lying down to sleep beside her husband, she had leaned over to kiss her baby, only to find he was dead. Through his confusion and Lucha's hysterical sobbing, Jubilo managed to ask: "What happened?"

"Ramiro is dead!"

Jubilo just couldn't understand what was happening. He approached his wife, who was pounding her fists on the wall, and tried to hold her arms so she wouldn't injure herself. At first, Lucha let her husband hold her, but when she smelled alcohol on him, poorly disguised by the cologne, she pushed him away brusquely.

"Are you drunk? Is that why you didn't hear the baby?"

Lucha now aimed her fury at Jubilo and struck him without mercy. At first Jubilo offered no resistance, he felt he deserved it, and much more. He felt guilty. But then the guilt became so overwhelming that he lashed out at her savagely in return.

"What about you, where were you? Why didn't you hear your baby? Were you out whoring around?"

Lucha stopped crying. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. It wasn't possible that Jubilo had said such a thing to her, much less at a time like this. She moved away from him slowly and walked toward the bathroom. On the way she picked up Raul who, rubbing his eyes, had come looking for his parents. Lucha closed the bathroom door behind her and locked it. She didn't want to see Jubilo. She couldn't bring herself to explain to him that she had come home late because don Pedro had raped Lolita. That she had taken her friend to the doctor and hadn't left her side until she was able to calm her down a little and take her home. Lucha didn't have the strength to talk. She decided right then and there that she didn't have anything more to say to Jubilo.

THE DEATH OF HIS son was devastating for Jubilo. Failing to hear his own child was the worst thing he had ever done. He who considered himself specially gifted at being able to hear anything, from thunder to absolute silence, just couldn't grasp what had happened. He who had believed that there was no such thing as total silence had simply been deaf to the world for a few minutes. He who knew that no matter how quiet the air was, there were always hearts beating, planets spinning in the heavens, bodies breathing, plants growing; and all producing sounds, but he hadn't heard anything! He hadn't heard anything!

FROM A VERY YOUNG age, Jubilo had realized that not everyone could hear as he did, that there were whispers, buzzes, creaks that were imperceptible for most people, but which to him were penetrating noises. Even the sound of an insect walking was audible to Jubilo. When he was taken to play at the beach, he would say to his grandmother, "Do you hear how the sand sings?" He was referring to the sound that the tiny grains of sand make as they are blown by the wind. To most people, that "song" is only sometimes audible in large sand dunes, but never on a sandy beach. To Jubilo, however, the intonations produced by the sand were quite clear.

Without a doubt, Jubilo had an ear that was adapted for hearing shortwave frequencies that not even modern machines could pick up. That sensitivity had been a problem for him, since over the years the city had become filled with an overpowering noise, like that of a rumbling truck. The sound often bothered him, it filled his ears with whistling sounds that sometimes even gave him a headache. And after all that, what good had it done him? He hadn't heard his own child dying!

"PAPI, ARE YOU LISTENING...?"

"Maybe he can't hear you."

"Did you give him a sedative?"

"No, I gave him an a.n.a.lgesic, because he complained of a pain in his stomach, then he fell asleep...."

"Papi, wake up, chiquito. Mama has come to see you...."

Don Jubilo opened his eyes immediately. He couldn't believe his ears. Lucha was there. His heart began to pound and his stomach trembled and started to hurt again. He had been waiting for this moment for so many years.

Lluvia was also taken by surprise. She had repeatedly asked her mother to visit her father but Lucha had stubbornly refused. It was a unique occasion that she had finally appeared at the house, and without notice. Lluvia couldn't remember her parents speaking to each other since the day she was married, thirty years earlier. For as long as she had been able to reason, she remembered the distance between her parents, they even slept in separate bedrooms. Once, Lluvia had asked her father why they hadn't divorced. He replied that in those days a man was never granted custody of the children and that he wouldn't have been able to bear being separated from them. To Lluvia this didn't sound like sufficient reason, but she hadn't insisted. Although it seemed odd, she had an inkling that her parents had maintained their strange relations.h.i.+p because of a loving force hidden beneath their apparent distance that continued to draw them together. Whatever the reason, she was thankful for the opportunity she'd had to enjoy her father's presence at home while she was growing up, although to strangers her parents' relations.h.i.+p had been a total mystery.

It was at her wedding that her parents had seen each other for the last time, and now it was in her house that they saw one another again, and Lluvia could only bless the occasion. As soon as she had explained to her mother how her father "spoke" via the computer, Lluvia said to them: "Well, I think you two have a lot to talk about."

To which her mother replied: "Yes, that's right."

Before closing the door, Lluvia managed to hear her mother say to her father: "I hate hating you, Jubilo."

Chapter 9.

LUCHA ARRIVED A LITTLE late for work, but happier than ever and unaware that it was the last day of complete happiness she would ever have. From that day forward everything would change, but at that hour of the morning nothing seemed wrong. No, more than that, in Lucha's eyes the world shone even more brightly than usual and glowed warmly with a pinkish hue. She was totally in love with her husband even though they'd been married for ten years. She had never imagined that was possible. Much less that she would still be learning new ways of making love. Jubilo had turned out to be a wonderful s.e.xual partner.

The previous night they had discovered new positions that didn't even appear in the Kama Sutra. And through them she had experienced incredible multiple o.r.g.a.s.ms. A night like that was well worth ten years of financial hards.h.i.+p. None of the little problems Jubilo and Lucha had gone through in their marriage was able to diminish in any way their love for each other. Even Jubilo's recent inclination to drink didn't seem like an insurmountable obstacle. Lucha was fully aware it was temporary and that Jubilo relied on it only as a way to forget about his problems, since for a man like him it must be very difficult not to be able to support his family. Sometimes Lucha even felt guilty about being so demanding. She only hoped that it was clear to Jubilo she wasn't interested in money itself, but only in its power to help her provide her family with a decent life.

She wasn't the only one who was concerned. Lolita had told Lucha on several occasions that perhaps she was asking too much of Jubilo and criticized her for having so many aspirations. Lucha didn't take this the wrong way. She knew Lolita had said what she did out of love, that she was guided by her honesty and integrity. Lolita was a patient woman who didn't expect anything from life. She was always the first to get to the office and the last one to leave. She performed her work quietly. She never acted in an irresponsible or unconventional manner. She was discreet, prudent, timid, modest, and very, very proper. She was so eager to please others that she never made a comment that was out of place: she was driven by an overwhelming fear that people would stop liking her. When she was a young girl, her father had abandoned her and her mother, and she never wanted to be abandoned again. So to avoid it, she was ready to do anything for anybody, to the point of servility. However, her need to please only caused men to run away from her. She never had a novio and she always fell in love with men who couldn't love her back.

Lucha loved and respected Lolita very much even though she knew her friend was in love with Jubilo. Lucha didn't hold this against her. After all, Jubilo was the kindest and most loving person in the world. When the three of them were still working together, Lucha had always been pleased to see the looks Lolita threw at her husband from time to time. It never bothered her, just the opposite, it made her feel proud. Nor did she take it the wrong way when her dear friend defended Jubilo with sword drawn, or that Lolita seemed to be so worried about the situation Lucha and Jubilo found themselves in.

Lucha considered Lolita her confidante and she was grateful for her sincere concern. The only thing Lolita didn't seem to understand was Lucha's att.i.tude toward money. Lucha had received a very specific education from her parents about money and how to use it. She knew very well what money could buy and she didn't hesitate to spend it. That didn't mean she was a compulsive spender. She simply knew that money, among other things, was important for a sense of security. To feel one could live peacefully in a house that could withstand earthquakes, rain, and the cold. Her great preoccupation about having money to pay for a good school for her children stemmed from her belief that the better their education, the better they would be able to provide for their own families. That's why she had felt so vulnerable during the first months of her marriage to Jubilo. It was the first time she had been exposed to hards.h.i.+p, and it terrified her.

Fortunately, it hadn't taken her long to realize that she would never find a more worthy man than Jubilo, and that the way to stop worrying about money was to go out to work herself and help her husband support them. And since she had started working things had improved greatly. She felt that her marriage was more solid than ever and that Jubilo's emotional state would improve as soon as he found another job. And she was willing to help him all she could to make sure every centavo they earned was used properly.

Because of this, whenever Lucha bought anything, she liked it to be the best, and also the best value. She was of the firm belief that you get what you pay for. And she was very particular about the way things looked too. She believed that living in a clean, pleasant, harmonious environment raised the spirits. Lucha had a rare talent for spotting the best buys the moment she entered a shop. They never escaped her notice even when they were hidden among many other things. She always found the most beautiful dress, which unfortunately usually turned out to be the most expensive. But Lucha never wasted much time in hunting down bargains. According to her reasoning, it was much better to always buy the best, because cheaper things usually faded or shrank the first time they were washed.

When she went into a furniture store, it was the same. She was always drawn to the most expensive piece of furniture made with the highest-quality wood and the best finishes. She knew from experience that they would last the longest, just as she knew that the best drink was the least harmful to one's body. She had the same good eye for evaluating people. From the first moment she saw Jubilo she had appreciated his other virtues as much as his physical beauty. He was an intelligent, sensible man, possessed of a wonderful sense of humor, sensitive in his dealings with others, pa.s.sionate in bed, respectful, gentlemanly, in short, truly unique.

Lucha was amused by Jubilo's jealousy toward don Pedro. She could never have even looked at a person of such low social, spiritual, and physical standards. Don Pedro was the complete opposite of the light, harmony, and good taste radiated by Jubilo. Don Pedro was a swarthy, ugly, evil-looking, disgusting, disrespectful, immoral, vulgar opportunist, who didn't know what proper manners were, much less how to treat women and show them respect. She wasn't about to trade down. And don Pedro was out of his mind if he thought he could buy her with a stupid scarf. Lucha wasn't crazy enough to renounce Jubilo and her children for such an unworthy man. He was just a poor fool with money in his pocket. If money had been the only thing that mattered to her, she could have gotten it ages ago, and by the handful, from her boss. But that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted much more than that. She wanted to spend the rest of her days by Jubilo's side and to remain just as much in love with him as she was now, as she had been last night! She blushed as she remembered again what Jubilo and she had done in bed.

Her employer's presence in front of her desk brought her back to reality. Don Pedro was offended because Lucha had left the office the previous evening without even saying good-bye to him, even though she had been wearing the expensive scarf he had given her! What hurt him most was seeing the look of love she gave her husband. He had never inspired that kind of look on anyone's face, much less a woman like Lucha, and he was determined to do whatever it took to make that woman his: and to amortize the cost of the scarf. Women were all equally ungrateful, they only wanted men for their money, but he was going to teach them how to treat a man like him with respect. Tired of being brushed off by Lucha, he wasn't willing to wait any longer to get his hands on her. He was full of rage and planned to overcome her resistance to him any way he could. The cold, distant tone Lucha used in her dealings with him was extremely irritating. He had tried everything, but nothing worked with her. He had to change his strategy to persuade her to sleep with him. He had invested a lot of money in Lucha and now he intended to collect for all the flowers, the chocolates, and that d.a.m.ned scarf. He was fed up with feeling ignored and disdained.

He had decided to punish her by doing the same to her, but she hadn't even noticed. And to make matters worse, the ingrate had allowed herself the luxury of arriving late for work! So he had punished her by loading her down with a ton of dictation. Almost everyone had left for the day and the office was practically deserted.

"Have you finished?"

"Almost."

"Ay, Luchita! You left so quickly yesterday, you didn't even say good-bye to me. I was planning to invite you to dinner."

"I appreciate the gesture, but you know I'm married. I went out to celebrate with my husband."

"I hope he treated you well."

"Yes, he did."

"Did he give you a present?"

"The best."

"Better than the scarf I gave you?"

"You know what, don Pedro? Your question is in very poor taste. I suggest you don't ever ask me a question like that again, well, that is, if you ever want to get anywhere in society."

"You really think you're some fine filly, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

Don Pedro felt the sudden urge to slap Lucha to wipe the look of disdain and superiority with which she stared back at him off her face. And Lucha felt the sudden urge to hand him her resignation right then and there. She didn't like the way she was being treated one bit. No, senor! Her family's financial situation was still dire, but she wasn't pregnant anymore and she could easily find another job, even a better-paying one, where she wouldn't have to put up with a cretin like don Pedro. But neither of them immediately acted on their impulses. Don Pedro swallowed his aggression, turned around, and entered his office, shouting from the open doorway: "Lolita, please come to my office!"

Instead of finis.h.i.+ng the letters in front of her, Lucha began to write her letter of resignation. She had already made up her mind, but she was going to do it properly, not impulsively. That's what education and intelligence were all about. When she had finished the doc.u.ment, she placed it in her desk drawer, picked up her purse, and left the office. Before going home, she wanted to get Jubilo some bread from Cafe Tacuba to prolong the good taste left in their mouths from the night before. As she walked back to her car, she suddenly realized she had left the car keys on her desk. She turned around and returned to the office. She couldn't help smiling like an adolescent in love-she loved this feeling of distraction.

When she returned to the office, there was no one there. The desks were empty and silence reigned. Lucha's footsteps echoed through the building. But the light was still on in don Pedro's office. Lucha tiptoed past so her boss wouldn't hear her. She didn't want to be caught alone with him. As she noiselessly picked up her keys with her fingertips, Lucha heard the sound of sobbing coming from don Pedro's office. She froze for a few seconds to make sure she had heard correctly; yes, there it was again, a woman was crying.

Lucha steeled herself as she opened the door: she saw Lolita lying curled up in a corner, weeping. Lucha ran to her side and with horror deduced what had happened. Lolita's clothing was torn, and her stockings were bloodstained. She was in a state of total shock. When she saw Lucha, she clung to her friend and began to scream desperately. She told Lucha that don Pedro had raped her. Then she begged her not to tell anyone, because she would die of shame if anyone else knew, especially Jubilo. Lucha consoled Lolita as best she could and tried to convince her to file charges against don Pedro at the police station, but Lolita stubbornly refused. She didn't think she could bear the humiliation. So Lucha tried to persuade her to go to the hospital, but again met with resistance. Finally, after a long time, Lucha was able to convince Lolita to come with her to her brother Juan's house. He was a doctor and would attend to her. Lolita accepted on the condition that Lucha stay by her side the whole time.

Lucha kept her promise and stayed with Lolita, holding her hand and wiping her tears, until she could finally take her home and put her to bed. They had to break the news to Lolita's mother: her daughter had been the victim of a terrible attack and that was why she had arrived home so late and in this condition.

Lucha was dead tired when she got home. Seeing Lolita in such a sad state had been a very jarring experience. She never imagined that something even more terrible was waiting for her. Ramiro's death represented the end of all that she held dear in life: her family and her love for Jubilo.

That night, don Pedro had not only robbed her friend of her virginity but at the same time profaned her own home. He had destroyed Lucha's image of Jubilo and Jubilo's image of her. How could Jubilo have doubted her?! Lucha had thought that if anyone in the world knew her best, it was Jubilo. If she had ever put all her faith, her trust, her dreams, her intimate desires in someone, it was him. And suddenly she realized that the seventeen years they had known each other meant nothing. With a single question, Jubilo had ended it all. How could he have called her a wh.o.r.e? Didn't he know her? What good had it done to give him not only her body but her very soul? It seemed unbelievable that the person she trusted most, and who supposedly loved her more than anyone else, was the same person who had now destroyed her whole world, a world she had never dreamed could deteriorate or be devalued. It was unbearable to find out that the one man she thought was different from all the rest turned out to be just like them. Lucha decided she would never again allow him, or any other man, to hurt her. She wanted to have nothing more to do with men.

The day after Ramiro's funeral she asked Jubilo for a divorce. Because of the emotional state they found themselves in, Jubilo asked that she wait a few days for a decision, but Lucha didn't want to listen to him or to accept any of his arguments. Her heart had been destroyed; she had buried it beside Ramiro. She felt as if she had been murdered. Just like don Pedro.

That same day, a headline had appeared on the front page of the newspaper: MURDERED WITH THE SAME WEAPON THAT KILLED HIS FORMER LOVER. It was an account of don Pedro's death at the hands of an unknown woman. The story read: His was a life of c.o.c.kfights and women. The director of the Telegraph Office was found dead this morning outside a hotel in the Plaza de Garibaldi, in the company of one of his regular girlfriends. He was killed by a .44 caliber bullet from the same gun with which he had killed another young mistress years ago. After that incident, due to his money and influence, he escaped prosecution. Pedro Ramirez emerged from obscurity during the Cristero Rebellion amid rumors of arms dealing to go on to enjoy an enviable political career. Ramirez held several administrative posts in the national government, among which the most important was as federal representative for the state of Puebla. According to initial investigations, Pedro Ramirez left his office on Friday evening and joined several friends at El Colorin, an infamous nightspot located in the Plaza de Garibaldi. At his hip was the .44 revolver, the same weapon responsible for his death later that night. Waiters at the club stated that Ramirez was a regular customer who often frequented the place in the company of a variety of women. Official reports indicate that later that night, Pedro Ramirez left the nightclub and walked toward a nearby hotel in the company of two young women with whom he apparently intended to spend the night. A short distance from the nightclub, the group was met by a third woman, who argued loudly with Ramirez and, during the ensuing scuffle, Ramirez's weapon discharged and he was killed. The mystery woman fled the crime scene, and no physical description of her is available. Apparently she had never been seen in the area before, and the only information police were able to gather was that she was well dressed, which leaves many questions still to be resolved in this homicide investigation.

WHEN A CHILD DIES so many questions remain unanswered, particularly when the parents are burdened with feelings of guilt. What would have happened if I hadn't fallen asleep? Could I have saved the baby if I had been at home? Would my son still be alive if I hadn't been drinking? Does G.o.d punish? What have I done to deserve this punishment? Am I really capable of protecting and caring for my family? How can this kind of neglect ever be forgiven? How can I ever overcome this sense of betrayal? They each had their own doubts about themselves, but it was clear that neither Lucha nor Jubilo was able to trust their partner again. The tragedy put an end to that. They could no longer even look each other in the eye. The pain of their son's death was unbearable, and each with their mere presence reminded the other of it.

Some people believe one should forgive as easily as one loves, but others refuse to accept this because they just can't forget. Jubilo couldn't forget that he had been in charge of the child when he died, nor that a well-dressed woman had killed don Pedro in a jealous rage on that very same night. Lucha couldn't forget that Ramiro had died because of Jubilo's neglect, much less that that neglect had been caused by his drinking. To forgive it is necessary to accept what cannot be changed, and neither of them was able to do that, because their own guilt prevented it. Lucha felt that if she hadn't been so demanding, Jubilo would never have felt so useless and wouldn't have started drinking. Ramiro had died because Jubilo had fallen asleep, but if she had been at home she would have heard him. Jubilo thought that if he had been capable of earning enough money, Lucha would never have felt the need to go out to work. She would never have had to deal with don Pedro and fall into his clutches, as he suspected. Only the pa.s.sing of years could heal their souls, and then they still had to clear up any lingering doubts. It would take them both fifty-two years, an Aztec solar cycle, to talk about what happened that night and to finally put their minds at rest.

But at the time, neither of them could see clearly; they were both busy trying to forgive the unforgivable, to find a little relief, to free themselves of guilt, to somehow continue living with the terrible memory of what had happened. So the news of Lucha's new pregnancy took them by complete surprise and raised new questions. They were in the middle of divorce proceedings. Jubilo felt this was not the right time to have another child, but Lucha felt just the opposite. To her, the unborn child represented a connection between them. She saw it as a living testimony of the love they had shared, as proof that all those years had been worth the trouble, and she would fight tooth and nail to keep it. But Lucha had decided the child would belong to her alone. She didn't want to share it with Jubilo. She struggled to get the divorce through as quickly as possible, even though it was against the advice of her entire family. All she could think about was kissing and cuddling her unborn child, the product of the most loving night of her life, the night before Ramiro's death. She felt with this new pregnancy life was giving her back something that it had mercilessly taken from her. That was how she wanted to see it. And looking at it more closely, she even thought she should be grateful to the G.o.ds for the help they were giving her. To begin with, they had removed don Pedro from her path so her life could be improved. After all, the wretch more than deserved to die. But what Lucha just couldn't fathom was why they had taken Ramiro from her. That was something she would never understand, even though they seemed to be trying to console her with the arrival of a new child.

FOR JuBILO, IT WASN'T so easy to accept becoming a father for a third time. He was worn out, empty, he didn't feel up to facing a new child, to saying: "I am your father. I brought you into this world and I am the one who is supposed to provide you with food and clothing, but guess what, I don't have any money. And I'm supposed to take care of you and love you, but let me tell you, I'm no good at those things: I tend to get drunk and fall asleep while my children suffocate. I don't think I'm good for you; I can't watch out for you while you sleep; I'm no good at that, I might let you die."

At the moment, Jubilo didn't even feel capable of taking care of himself. He was filled with self-recrimination. The fear of hurting others made him look for ways to efface himself as a human being, to avoid everybody else, to numb his conscience. It hurt to wake up. It hurt to see Raul. It hurt to look at Lucha. It hurt to smell the flowers in the garden. It hurt to walk. It hurt to breathe. The only thing he wanted to do was die. To get rid of his physical body once and for all, because emotionally he was already dead. So he chose to hang out in the cantina, to stay there all the time. To end his pain. To end his struggle.

There, he could forget about everything and everyone. The only effort he had to make was to raise the bottle to his lips. He would spend all day drinking and at night he would lie in the cantina's doorway begging for money for more drink, without was.h.i.+ng, without eating. His inseparable companion during this time was Chueco Lopez. Chueco was his teacher in his new life on the street. When the cantina was open, they used its bathroom when they needed to, but when it was closed, to relieve themselves they had to go to the Sagrada Familia church, the same church where Lucha and Jubilo had been married years before. It was sad for everyone in the neighborhood to see Jubilo in this condition, and no one hesitated to give him money when he asked for it. Besides the affection in which he was held, everybody owed him a favor, so they couldn't refuse, even though they knew that Jubilo would use the coins they gave him to keep on drinking. Everyone knew his child had died and they understood his despair. Some tried to talk to him, to give him advice, but Jubilo couldn't hear them; he was lost in the alcohol. His physical and mental condition deteriorated rapidly. He suffered all kinds of calamities. He was robbed, and his jacket and shoes were stolen, but he didn't even notice. Some days he woke up vomiting, others, soiling himself, still others, thras.h.i.+ng and striking the ground. His legs became swollen, his feet cracked and split open, and his heart bled day and night.

And that's how he lived until he had completed a cycle of fifty-two days. The number fifty-two was, of course, significant to the Aztecs, because the sum of its digits yields seven. Seven times seven fits inside a year, so to them fifty-two represented a complete cycle of life.

The fifty-two days that Jubilo spent drinking represented a phase he had to go through to realize he didn't really want to die. He came to this conclusion one day when his brother-in-law Juan came looking for him. Jubilo could no longer stand up. When he saw Juan, he clung to his hand and said, "Help me, compadre!" Juan took him to the hospital, where Jubilo began his recuperation.

We're talking about a slow and painful convalescence that included learning how to live again. The first thing Jubilo had to face was the withdrawal from alcohol, then regaining movement in his legs and arms, and finally the proper functioning of his whole body. But the most difficult thing without a doubt was trying to win back his family. When he left the hospital, Lucha was already seven months pregnant. She had gotten herself a new job at the National Lottery, in addition to her original job at the Telegraph Office. Because don Pedro was dead, she had not found it necessary to hand in her resignation after all. She was more beautiful than ever, but she didn't want to have anything to do with Jubilo. She was pleased enough that he had recovered, she had even been the one who told her brother Juan where to find Jubilo, because she had heard it from a neighbor. She had followed his recovery with great interest from a distance, but that's how she wanted to keep him, far away from her and her children.

Jubilo had to make an enormous effort to get back on his feet, to find work again, and to convince his wife he was going to fight to preserve his marriage any way he could. Lucha's parents played an important role at this stage. Although they had once tried to dissuade their daughter from marrying Jubilo, they now did everything they could to convince her she should forgive him and allow him to return home, because they loved him like a son. They had had years to see what a wonderful man he was, and his mother-in-law had become his best ally. She never tired of defending him, and she didn't stop praising him until she managed to soften Lucha's heart and convince her daughter to meet with the man who was still her husband. They had never finalized the divorce, because the law prohibited it while Lucha was pregnant.

Jubilo arrived at the house looking very presentable. His in-laws had taken Raul home with them so Lucha and Jubilo could speak openly without interruption. As soon as they saw each other, their bodies felt the urge to run toward each other and embrace, but their minds restrained them. Jubilo was thin, but he reminded Lucha of the boy she had first seen when she was thirteen. Lucha was more voluptuous than ever. Her enormous belly drove Jubilo crazy with desire. After talking and crying for a long time, Jubilo asked her to show him her stomach. Lucha lifted her maternity dress so Jubilo could admire her ripeness, and they ended up in bed, holding each other tightly.

A heavy rain fell from the sky and filled the room with the smell of damp earth. Lying there holding Lucha and listening to the rain, Jubilo distinctly felt his soul return to his body. The rain was a reminder that he had been dead, that months before, his spirit had migrated to a higher sphere, and that it had now returned to occupy its rightful place back on Earth. The rain represented the resurrection of water, droplets that had evaporated from the earth to take on a new form in heaven, and then return to Earth once more. The sound of the rain falling and the thought of the child in Lucha's womb were for Jubilo the best song of life ever. It became clear to him that he was being given a second chance to live, and he knew he couldn't waste it.

The love Lucha and he shared had generated a new existence, palpable inside this belly on the verge of bearing fruit. And the beating heart of that being was the best reason for remaining like this, in a close embrace, for the greater part of the afternoon, until they were interrupted by the onset of premature labor. Soon a seventh-month newborn arrived into the world like a gift from heaven.

Jubilo called her Lluvia and swore he would never, ever be separated from her, no matter what. He wanted to be all ears to keep her safe, and he was ready to give her all the love he had inside him. He was eager to show his appreciation of each extra day of life he had been given. And so he did. Jubilo remained living under the same roof as Lucha until Lluvia got married.

Those years weren't all sweetness and light. Lucha and Jubilo were never able to completely patch up their marriage. Don Pedro had left behind him a great shadow that loomed over everything, from their house to the office. Jubilo got his job back at the Telegraph Office, but it wasn't the same anymore. Something bad had happened there, and Lucha had kept it a secret.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL me this before? Why did you keep it to yourself for so long?"

The sound of the telegraph transmitter's ceaseless tapping filled the room. Jubilo moved his fingers swiftly, but he received no answer. His blindness prevented him from realizing that it had grown dark and that Lucha couldn't read the computer screen anymore to see what he was "saying."

Then Lucha stood up from her chair and ran to the bedroom door. Opening it, she shouted at the top of her voice: "Ambar! Please come here!"