Delirium: A Novel
by Laura Restrepo
Excerpt
Delirium
I KNEW SOMETHING irreparable had happened the moment a man opened the door to that hotel room and I saw my wife sitting at the far end of the room, looking out the window in the strangest way. Id just returned from a short trip, four days away on business, and I swear that Agustina was fine when I left, I swear nothing odd was going on, or at least nothing out of the ordinary, certainly nothing to suggest what would happen to her while I was gone, except for her own premonitions, of course, but how was I to believe her when Agustina is always predicting some catastrophe; Ive tried everything to make her see reason, but she wont be swayed, insisting that ever since she was little shes had what she calls the gift of sight, or the ability to see the future, and God only knows the trouble thats caused us.
This time, as usual, my Agustina predicted that something would go wrong, and once again, I ignored her prediction; I went away on a Wednesday, leaving her painting the apartment walls green, and on Sunday, when I returned, I found her in a hotel in the north of the city, transformed into someone terrified and terrifying, a being I barely recognized. I havent been able to find out what happened to her while I was gone because when I ask she turns on me, its incredible how fierce she can be when shes upset, she treats me as if I'm not me and shes not who she used to be, or at least thats how I try to explain it, and if I cant its because I dont understand it myself. The woman I love is lost inside her own head and for fourteen days now Ive been searching for her, wearing myself out trying to find her, but its excruciating and impossibly difficult; its as if Agustina were living on a plane parallel to reality, close but just out of reach, as if she were speaking a strange language that I vaguely recognize but cant quite comprehend. My wifes unhinged mind is a dog snapping at me, but at the same time its barking is a call for help, a call to which Im unable to respond; Agustina is a hurt and starving dog who wants to go home but cant, and the next minute shes a stray dog who cant even remember it once had a home.
***
I'M GOING TO TELL YOU this pointblank because you have the right to know it, Agustina sweetheart, and anyway what do I have to lose talking about it all, when Ive got nothing left anymore. Your husband is spinning in circles trying to find out what the hell happened to you and theres so much even you dont know, because listen, Agustina darling, all stories are like a big cake, with everybodys eyes on the piece theyre eating, and the only one who sees the whole thing is the baker. But before I start, let me tell you that Im happy to see you, despite everything Ive always been happy to see you, and the truth is that after what happened youre the only person I wanted to see. Will you believe me if I tell you that this disaster started with a simple bet? Its almost embarrassing to confess, Agustina doll, because you took it all so seriously and were hurt so badly by it, but it was the lowest kind of bet, a dirty joke if were going to call things by their true names, a prank that turned bloody.
We dubbed it Operation Lazarus, because the idea was to see whether we could breathe life back into Spider Salazars pecker, which had been dead between his legs since the accident at the Las Lomas Polo Club. Do you remember the scandal, Agustina darling? The truth is, it was a stupid, ordinary accident, although later people tried to make it seem more heroic by spreading the story that Spider fell off his horse during a match against a Chilean team, but the rough stuff actually came later, during a drunken freeforall, because the match was in the morning and Spider had watched it from one of the bottom rows of the stands since hes too fat to make it up to the top, and I can tell you that the closest he got to the action was betting on the Chileans and against the locals. The Chileans won and then were treated to a typical Colombian lunch that they probably choked down out of politeness, who knows what folk dishes were foisted on themsuckling pig, tamales, fritters, figs with caramel cream, or all of the aboveand then they went back to their hotel to digest it while at the club the revelry went on, everyone getting drunker by the minute. Rivers of whiskey flowed, it got dark, and the only people left were the local polo players and the club regulars when Spider and his pals decided to saddle up, and Im guessing, or actually I know, that when the happy pack rode into the night they were all as drunk as cossacks, a gang of juicedup clowns; I dont know whether your brother Joaco was with them, Agustina doll, though probably he was, because Joaco never misses the chance for a spree.
They mounted the horses, which are highstrung to begin with and dont appreciate overweight brutes squashing their kidneys and making them gallop in the dark along muddy paths, followed by a procession of Toyota 4x4s full of bodyguards, you know how it is, angel, because you come from that world and escaped it only when you'd had all you could stomach, but does the aftertaste ever go away?, no, sweetheart, the taste of shit lingers in your mouth no matter how many times you gargle with Listerine. Every fat cat from Las Lomas Polo is shadowed wherever he goes by five or six escorts, and Spider Salazar is even worse; ever since he struck it rich hes had himself protected by a troop of thugs trained in Israel, and that night Spider, who hadnt been on a horse for months because he was clogged with cholesterol and had to content himself with watching from the stands, that night Spider, who was completely plastered, ordered them to bring him the most spirited horse, a big, imperious bay called Parsley, and if I say called, Agustina princess, its because no one calls it anything anymore, since in the darkness, the mud, and the commotion, Parsley lost his temper and threw Spider, slamming him against a rock, and then some genius of a bodyguard, a guy they call the Sucker, had the brilliant idea of teaching the horse a lesson by blasting it with his machine gun, leaving it riddled like a sieve with its hooves pointing up at the moon, the most pathetic little scene imaginable. In a single burst the idiot pissed away the two hundred and fifty grand Parsley was worth, because thats life, Agustina sweetheart, fortunes go down the drain in a single binge and nobody bats an eye.
***
THE GIRL AGUSTINA hugs another, smaller child tight; its her brother Bichi, who has a head full of dark curls, a Christ Child, the kind artists paint with black hair instead of golden. Its the last time, Bichito, Agustina promises him, my father will never hit you again because Im going to stop him, dont hold your arm like that, like a chicken with a broken wing, come here, Bichi, little brother, you have to forgive my fathers bad hands because his heart is good, you have to forgive him, Bichi, and not stare at him like that because if you do hell go away and itll be your fault, does your arm still hurt?, come here, its all right, if you stop crying your sister, Agustina, will summon you to the great ceremony of her powers, and well do what we always do, shell get the pictures from their hiding place and Bichi will spread the black cloth on the bed, you and me preparing for the service that will make my eyes see, Agustina calls up the great Power that lets her know when her father is going to hurt her brother, youre the Bichi I loved so much, Agustina repeats over and over again, the Bichi I love so very very much, my darling little brother, the beautiful boy who abandoned me a lifetime ago and is lost to me now.
Ill cure your broken wing, sings Agustina, rocking him against her, Ill kiss it and make it better. The only problem is that the powers of divination come to her when they feel like it, not when she calls on them, thats why the ceremony doesnt always work the same way even though the two children put on their robes and do everything right, step by step, carefully performing each step, but it isnt the same, Agustina complains, because the powers forsake me sometimes, the visions fade and Bichi is left defenseless, not knowing when the thing that's sure to happen to him will happen. But when theyre going to come they announce their arrival with a flicker of the eyelids, the First Call, because Agustinas powers were, are, her eyes ability to see beyond, to whats still to come, to what hasnt come yet. The Second Call is when the head tilts back of its own accord, as if it were descending a staircase, as if the neck were tugging it down and making it toss its hair like the Weeping Woman when she wanders the hills. I know Bichi is terrified by the Second Call, and he doesnt want to know anything about the Weeping Woman or the wild rhythms of her flowing hair, which is why he begs me not to roll my eyes back in my head and toss my hair because If you keep doing that Agustina, Ill go to my room, Dont go Bichi Bichito, dont go and I wont do it anymore, Ill control the shaking so I dont scare you, because after all this is a ceremony of healing and comfort, Id never hurt you, I only want to protect you, and in return you have to promise me that youll forgive my father even when he hits you, my father says its for your own good and parents know things that children dont.
***
EVER SINCE MY WIFE has been acting so strange, Ive dedicated myself to helping her, but Ive only managed to irritate her with my futile selfless efforts. For example, yesterday, late at night, Agustina got angry because I wanted to take a cloth and dry the rug that shed soaked, obsessed with the idea that it smelled strange, and the thing is, it disturbs me to see all the pots of water she sets around the apartment, shes taken to performing baptisms, or ablutions, or who knows what kind of rituals invoking gods invented by her, washing everything and scouring it with excessive zeal, my unfathomable Agustina, any spot on the tablecloth or grime on a windowpane torments her, dust on the moldings makes her miserable, and the muddy footprints she claims my shoes leave make her furious; even her own hands seem disgusting to her though she scrubs them incessantly, her beautiful pale hands red and chafed now because she gives them no respite, and she gives me no respite, and she gives herself no respite.
As Agustina performs her mad ceremonies she gives orders to Aunt Sofi, who has volunteered her services as willing acolyte, and the two rush about with containers of water as if this is how theyll exorcise anxiety, or regain lost control, and I can find no part to play in this story, nor do I know how to curb the mystical mania thats invading the house in the form of cups of water that appear in rows along the baseboards, or on the window ledges. I open a door suddenly and upset a plate of water that Agustinas hidden behind it, or Im unable to go upstairs because shes set pots of water on each step. How can I go up the stairs, Aunt Sofi, when Agustinas blocked them? Stay down here for now, Aguilar, be patient and don't move those pots because you know what a fuss shell make. And where will we eat, Agustina darling, now that youve covered the table with plates of water? Shes put them on the chairs, on the balcony, and around the bed, the river of her madness leaving its traces even on the bookshelves and in the cupboards; wherever she goes, quiet eyes of water open up, gazing into nothing or the unknown, and rather than being upset I feel the anguish of not knowing what bubbles are bursting inside her, what poisonous fish are swimming the channels of her brain, and all I can think to do is wait until shes off guard, and empty cups and plates and buckets and return them to their place in the kitchen, and then I ask you why you look at me with hatred, Agustina my love, it must be because you dont remember me, but sometimes you do, sometimes she seems to recognize me, vaguely, as if through a fog, and her eyes offer reconciliation for an instant, but only for an instant before I immediately lose her and the same terrible hurt invades me.
Strange comedy, or tragedy for three voices, Agustina with her ablutions, Aunt Sofi who plays along with her, and I, Aguilar, an observer asking myself when reason fled, that thing we call reason; an invisible force, but when its missing, life isnt life and whats human is no longer human. What would we do without you, Aunt Sofi? At first I stayed home twentyfour hours a day watching Agustina and hoping that at any minute she would return to her senses, but as the days went by I began to suspect that the crisis wouldnt come to an end overnight and I knew Id have to pluck up the courage to face daily life again. Maybe the hardest part is accepting the stretch of middle ground between sanity and madness and learning to straddle it; by the third or fourth day of delirium the money I had on me ran out and ordinary demands arose again, if I didnt go out to collect the money I was owed and do my weekly deliveries there wouldnt be anything to buy food with or pay the bills, but there was no way for me to hire a nurse to stay with Agustina while I was gone and make sure she didnt escape or do something hopelessly crazy, and it was then that the woman who said her name was Aunt Sofi rang the doorbell.
She showed up just like that, as if heavensent, with her two suitcases, her felt hat topped by a feather, her easy laugh, and her comfortable manner of a German from the provinces, and while she was standing in the doorway, before shed been invited in, she explained to me that it had been years since shed had anything to do with the family, that she lived in Mexico and had flown in to help care for her niece for as long as necessary. This struck me as odd, because my wife had never spoken to me about any aunt, and yet Agustina seemed to recognize her, or at least she recognized her hat, because she laughed, I cant believe you still wear that little cap with the goose feather, that was all Agustina said to her but she said it warmly, cheerfully, and yet there was something that made me uneasy, if this woman hadn't been in contact with the family, how had she learned of her nieces breakdown, and when I asked her, she simply said, Ive always known, Wonderful, I thought, either somethings not right here or Ive just landed myself another seer.
Excerpted from Delirium by Laura Restrepo Copyright © 2007 by Laura Restrepo. Excerpted by permission of Nan A. Talese, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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