百年孤独(英文版)-第67部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


Jos？Arcadio　three　years　before　he　was　sent　to　the　seminary　and　caress　him　not　as　a　grandmother　would　have　done　with　a　grandchild；　but　as　a　woman　would　have　done　with　a　man；　as　it　was　said　that　the　French　matrons　did　and　as　she　had　wanted　to　do　with　Pietro　Crespi　at　the　age　of　twelve；　fourteen；　when　she　saw　him　in　his　dancing　tights　and　with　the　magic　wand　with　which　he　kept　time　to　the　metronome。　At　times　It　pained　her　to　have　let　that　outpouring　of　misery　follow　its　course；　and　at　times　it　made　her　so　angry　that　she　would　prick　her　fingers　with　the　needles；　but　what　pained　her　most　and　enraged　her　most　and　made　her　most　bitter　was　the　fragrant　and　wormy　guava　grove　of　love　that　was　dragging　her　toward　death。　Just　as　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　thought　about　his　war；　unable　to　avoid　it；　so　Amaranta　thought　about　Rebeca。　But　while　her　brother　had　managed　to　sterilize　his　memories；　she　had　only　managed　to　make　hers　more　scalding。　The　only　thing　that　she　asked　of　God　for　many　years　was　that　he　would　not　visit　on　her　the　punishment　of　dying　before　Rebeca。　Every　time　she　passed　by　her　house　and　noted　the　progress　of　destruction　she　took　fort　in　the　idea　that　God　was　listening　to　her。　One　afternoon；　when　she　was　sewing　on　the　porch；　she　was　assailed　by　the　certainty　that　she　would　be　sitting　in　that　place；　in　the　same　position；　and　under　the　same　light　when　they　brought　her　the　news　of　Rebeca’s　death。　She　sat　down　to　wait　for　it；　as　one　waits　for　a　letter；　and　the　fact　was　that　at　one　time　she　would　pull　off　buttons　to　sew　them　on　again　so　that　inactivity　would　not　make　the　wait　longer　and　more　anxious。　No　one　in　the　house　realized　that　at　that　time　Amaranta　was　sewing　a　fine　shroud　for　Rebeca。　Later　on；　when　Aureliano　Triste　told　how　he　had　seen　her　changed　into　an　apparition　with　leathery　skin　and　a　few　golden　threads　on　her　skull；　Amaranta　was　not　surprised　because　the　specter　described　was　exactly　what　she　had　been　imagining　for　some　time。　She　had　decided　to　restore　Rebeca’s　corpse；　to　disguise　with　paraffin　the　damage　to　her　face　and　make　a　wig　for　her　from　the　hair　of　the　saints。　She　would　manufacture　a　beautiful　corpse；　with　the　linen　shroud　and　a　plushlined　coffin　with　purple　trim。　and　she　would　put　it　at　the　disposition　of　the　worms　with　splendid　funeral　ceremonies。　She　worked　out　the　plan　with　such　hatred　that　it　made　her　tremble　to　think　about　the　scheme；　which　she　would　have　carried　out　in　exactly　the　same　way　if　it　had　been　done　out　of　love；　but　she　would　not　allow　herself　to　bee　upset　by　the　confusion　and　went　on　perfecting　the　details　so　minutely　that　she　came　to　be　more　than　a　specialist　and　was　a　virtuoso　in　the　rites　of　death。　The　only　thing　that　she　did　not　keep　In　mind　in　her　fearsome　plan　was　that　in　spite　of　her　pleas　to　God　she　might　die　before　Rebeca。　That　was；　in　fact；　what　happened。　At　the　final　moment；　however；　Amaranta　did　not　feel　frustrated；　but　on　the　contrary；　free　of　all　bitterness　because　death　had　awarded　her　the　privilege　of　announcing　itself　several　years　ahead　of　time。　She　saw　it　on　one　burning　afternoon　sewing　with　her　on　the　porch　a　short　time　after　Meme　had　left　for　school。　She　saw　it　because　it　was　a　woman　dressed　in　blue　with　long　hair；　with　a　sort　of　antiquated　look；　and　with　a　certain　resemblance　to　Pilar　Ternera　during　the　time　when　she　had　helped　with　the　chores　in　the　kitchen。　Fernanda　was　present　several　times　and　did　not　see　her；　in　spite　of　the　fact　that　she　was　so　real；　so　human；　and　on　one　occasion　asked　of　Amaranta　the　favor　of　threading　a　needle。　Death　did　not　tell　her　when　she　was　going　to　die　or　whether　her　hour　was　assigned　before　that　of　Rebeca；　but　ordered　her　to　begin　sewing　her　own　shroud　on　the　next　sixth　of　April。　She　was　authorized　to　make　it　as　plicated　and　as　fine　as　she　wanted；　but　just　as　honestly　executed　as　Rebeca’s；　and　she　was　told　that　she　would　die　without　pain；　fear；　or　bitterness　at　dusk　on　the　day　that　she　finished　it。　Trying　to　waste　the　most　time　possible；　Amaranta　ordered　some　rough　flax　and　spun　the　thread　herself。　She　did　it　so　carefully　that　the　work　alone　took　four　years。　Then　she　started　the　sewing。　As　she　got　closer　to　the　unavoidable　end　she　began　to　understand　that　only　a　miracle　would　allow　her　to　prolong　the　work　past　Rebeca’s　death；　but　the　very　concentration　gave　her　the　calmness　that　she　needed　to　accept　the　idea　of　frustration。　It　was　then　that　she　understood　the　vicious　circle　of　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía’s　little　gold　fishes。　The　world　was　reduced　to　the　surface　of　her　skin　and　her　inner　self　was　safe　from　all　bitterness。　It　pained　her　not　to　have　had　that　revelation　many　years　before　when　it　had　still　been　possible　to　purify　memories　and　reconstruct　the　universe　under　a　new　light　and　evoke　without　trembling　Pietro　Crespi’s　smell　of　lavender　at　dusk　and　rescue　Rebeca　from　her　slough　of　misery；　not　out　of　hatred　or　out　of　love　but　because　of　the　measureless　understanding　of　solitude。　The　hatred　that　she　noticed　one　night　in　Memes　words　did　not　upset　her　because　it　was　directed　at　her；　but　she　felt　the　repetition　of　another　adolescence　that　seemed　as　clean　as　hers　must　have　seemed　and　that；　however；　was　already　tainted　with　rancor。　But　by　then　her　acceptance　of　her　fate　was　so　deep　that　she　was　not　even　upset　by　the　certainty　that　all　possibilities　of　rectification　were　closed　to　her。　Her　only　objective　was　to　finish　the　shroud。　Instead　of　slowing　it　down　with　useless　detail　as　she　had　done　in　the　beginning；　she　speeded　up　the　work。　One　week　before　she　calculated　that　she　would　take　the　last　stitch　on　the　night　of　February　4；　and　without　revealing　the　motives；　she　suggested　to　Meme　that　she　move　up　a　clavichord　concert　that　she　had　arranged　for　the　day　after；　but　the　girl　paid　no　attention　to　her。　Amaranta　then　looked　for　a　way　to　delay　for　fortyeight　hours；　and　she　even　thought　that　death　was　giving　her　her　way　because　on　the　night　of　February　fourth　a　storm　caused　a　breakdown　at　the　power　plant。　But　on　the　following　day；　at　eight　in　the　morning；　she　took　the　last　stitch　in　the　most　beautiful　piece　of　work　that　any　woman　had　ever　finished；　and　she　announced　without　the　least　bit　of　dramatics　that　she　was　going　to　die　at　dusk。　She　not　only　told　the　family　but　the　whole　town；　because　Amaranta　had　conceived　of　the　idea　that　she　could　make　up　for　a　life　of　meanness　with　one　last　favor　to　the　world；　and　she　thought　that　no　one　was　in　a　better　position　to　take　letters　to　the　dead。
　　　The　news　that　Amaranta　Buendía　was　sailing　at　dusk　carrying　the　mail　of　death　spread　throughout　Macondo　before　noon；　and　at　three　in　the　afternoon　there　was　a　whole　carton　full　of　letters　in　the　parlor。　Those　who　did　not　want　to　write　gave　Amaranta　verbal　messages；　which　she　wrote　down　in　a　notebook　with　the　name　and　date　of　death　of　the　recipient。　“Don’t　worry；？she　told　the　senders。　“The　first　thing　I’ll　do　when　I　get　there　is　to　ask　for　him　and　give　him　your　message。？It　was　farcical。　Amaranta　did　not　show　any　upset　or　the　slightest　sign　of　grief；　and　she　even　looked　a　bit　rejuvenated　by　a　duty　acplished。　She　was　as　straight　and　as　thin　as　ever。　If　it　had　not　been　for　her　hardened　cheekbones　and　a　few　missing　teeth；　she　would　have　looked　much　younger　than　she　really　was。　She　herself　arranged　for　them　to　put　the　letters　in　a　box　sealed　with　pitch　and　told　them　to　place　it　in　her　grave　in　a　way　best　to　protect　it　from　the　dampness。　In　the　morning　she　had　a　carpenter　called　who　took　her　measurements　for　the　coffin　as　she　stood　in　the　parlor；　as　if　it　were　for　a　new　dress。　She　showed　such　vigor　in　her　last　hours　that　Fernanda　thought　she　was　making　fun　of　everyone。　？rsula；　with　the　experience　that　Buendías　died　without　any　illness；　did　not　doubt　at　all　that　Amaranta　had　received　an　omen　of　death；　but　in　any　case　she　was　tormented　by　the　fear　that　with　the　business　of　the　letters　and　the　anxiety　of　the　senders　for　them　to　arrive　quickly　they　would　bury　her　alive　in　their　confusion。　So　she　set　about　clearing　out　the　house；　arguing　with　the　intruders　as　she　shouted　at　them；　and　by　four　in　the　afternoon　she　was　successful。　At　that　time　Amaranta　had　finished　dividing　her　things　among　the　poor　and　had　left　on　the　severe　coffin　of　unfinished　boards　only　the　change　of　cl