百年孤独(英文版)-第75部分

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d　found　four　ranting　boys　in　a　heated　argument　about　the　methods　used　to　kill　cockroaches　in　the　Middle　Ages。　The　old　bookseller；　knowing　about　Aureliano’s　love　for　books　that　had　been　read　only　by　the　Venerable　Bede；　urged　him　with　a　certain　fatherly　malice　to　get　into　the　discussion；　and　without　even　taking　a　breath；　he　explained　that　the　cockroach；　the　oldest　winged　insect　on　the　face　of　the　earth；　had　already　been　the　victim　of　slippers　in　the　Old　Testament；　but　that　since　the　species　was　definitely　resistant　to　any　and　all　methods　of　extermination；　from　tomato　dices　with　borax　to　flour　and　sugar；　and　with　its　one　thousand　six　hundred　three　varieties　had　resisted　the　most　ancient；　tenacious；　and　pitiless　persecution　that　mankind　had　unleashed　against　any　living　thing　since　the　beginnings；　including　man　himself；　to　such　an　extent　that　just　as　an　instinct　for　reproduction　was　attributed　to　humankind；　so　there　must　have　been　another　one　more　definite　and　pressing；　which　was　the　instinct　to　kill　cockroaches；　and　if　the　latter　had　succeeded　in　escaping　human　ferocity　it　was　because　they　had　taken　refuge　in　the　shadows；　where　they　became　invulnerable　because　of　man’s　congenital　fear　of　the　dark；　but　on　the　other　hand　they　became　susceptible　to　the　glow　of　noon；　so　that　by　the　Middle　Ages　already；　and　in　present　times；　and　per　omnia　secula　seculorum；　the　only　effective　method　for　killing　cockroaches　was　the　glare　of　the　sun。
　　　That　encyclopedic　coincidence　was　the　beginning　of　a　great　friendship。　Aureliano　continued　getting　together　in　the　afternoon　with　the　four　arguers；　whose　names　were　？lvaro；　Germán；　Alfonso；　and　Gabriel；　the　first　and　last　friends　that　he　ever　had　in　his　life。　For　a　man　like　him；　holed　up　in　written　reality；　those　stormy　sessions　that　began　in　the　bookstore　and　ended　at　dawn　in　the　brothels　were　a　revelation。　It　had　never　occurred　to　him　until　then　to　think　that　literature　was　the　best　plaything　that　had　ever　been　invented　to　make　fun　of　people；　as　？lvaro　demonstrated　during　one　night　of　revels。　Some　time　would　have　to　pass　before　Aureliano　realized　that　such　arbitrary　attitudes　had　their　origins　in　the　example　of　the　wise　Catalonian；　for　whom　wisdom　was　worth　nothing　if　it　could　not　be　used　to　invent　a　way　of　preparing　chick　peas。
　　　The　afternoon　on　which　Aureliano　gave　his　lecture　on　cockroaches；　the　argument　ended　up　in　the　house　of　the　girls　who　went　to　bed　because　of　hunger；　a　brothel　of　lies　on　the　outskirts　of　Macondo。　The　proprietress　was　a　smiling　mamasanta；　tormented　by　a　mania　for　opening　and　closing　doors。　Her　eternal　smile　seemed　to　have　been　brought　on　by　the　credulity　of　her　customers；　who　accepted　as　something　certain　an　establishment　that　did　not　exist　except　in　the　imagination；　because　even　the　tangible　things　there　were　unreal：　the　furniture　that　fell　apart　when　one　sat　on　it；　the　disemboweled　phonograph　with　a　nesting　hen　inside；　the　garden　of　paper　flowers；　the　calendars　going　back　to　the　years　before　the　arrival　of　the　banana　pany；　the　frames　with　prints　cut　out　of　magazines　that　had　never　been　published。　Even　the　timid　little　whores　who　came　from　the　neighborhood：　when　the　proprietress　informed　them　that　customers　had　arrived　they　were　nothing　but　an　invention。　They　would　appear　without　any　greeting　in　their　little　flowered　dresses　left　over　from　days　when　they　were　five　years　younger；　and　they　took　them　off　with　the　same　innocence　with　which　they　had　put　them　on；　and　in　the　paroxysms　of　love　they　would　exclaim　good　heavens；　look　how　that　roof　is　falling　in；　and　as　soon　as　they　got　their　peso　and　fifty　cents　they　would　spend　it　on　a　roll　with　cheese　that　the　proprietress　sold　them；　smiling　more　than　ever；　because　only　she　knew　that　that　meal　was　not　true　either。　Aureliano；　whose　world　at　that　time　began　with　Melquíades？parchments　and　ended　in　Nigromanta’s　bed；　found　a　stupid　cure　for　timidity　in　the　small　imaginary　brothel。　At　first　he　could　get　nowhere；　in　rooms　where　the　proprietress　would　enter　during　the　best　moments　of　love　and　make　all　sorts　of　ments　about　the　intimate　charms　of　the　protagonists。　But　with　time　he　began　to　get　so　familiar　with　those　misfortunes　of　the　world　that　on　one　night　that　was　more　unbalanced　than　the　others　he　got　undressed　in　the　small　reception　room　and　ran　through　the　house　balancing　a　bottle　of　beer　on　his　inconceivable　maleness。　He　was　the　one　who　made　fashionable　the　extravagances　that　the　proprietress　celebrated　with　her　eternal　smile；　without　protesting；　without　believing　in　them　just　as　when　Germán　tried　to　burn　the　house　down　to　show　that　it　did　not　exist；　and　as　when　Alfonso　wrung　the　neck　of　the　parrot　and　threw　it　into　the　pot　where　the　chicken　stew　was　beginning　to　boil。
　　　Although　Aureliano　felt　himself　linked　to　the　four　friends　by　a　mon　affection　and　a　mon　solidarity；　even　to　the　point　where　he　thought　of　them　as　if　they　were　one　person；　he　was　closer　to　Gabriel　than　to　the　others。　The　link　was　born　on　the　night　when　he　casually　mentioned　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　and　Gabriel　was　the　only　one　who　did　not　think　that　he　was　making　fun　of　somebody。　Even　the　proprietress；　who　normally　did　not　take　part　in　the　conversation　argued　with　a　madam’s　wrathful　passion　that　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía；　of　whom　she　had　indeed　heard　speak　at　some　time；　was　a　figure　invented　by　the　government　as　a　pretext　for　killing　Liberals。　Gabriel；　on　the　other　hand；　did　not　doubt　the　reality　of　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　because　he　had　been　a　panion　in　arms　and　inseparable　friend　of　his　great…great…grandfather　Colonel　Gerineldo　Márquez。　Those　fickle　tricks　of　memory　were　even　more　critical　when　the　killing　of　the　workers　was　brought　up。　Every　time　that　Aureliano　mentioned　the　matter；　not　only　the　proprietress　but　some　people　older　than　she　would　repudiate　the　myth　of　the　workers　hemmed　in　at　the　station　and　the　train　with　two　hundred　cars　loaded　with　dead　people；　and　they　would　even　insist　that；　after　all；　everything　had　been　set　forth　in　judicial　documents　and　in　primary…school　textbooks：　that　the　banana　pany　had　never　existed。　So　that　Aureliano　and　Gabriel　were　linked　by　a　kind　of　plicity　based　on　real　facts　that　no　one　believed　in；　and　which　had　affected　their　lives　to　the　point　that　both　of　them　found　themselves　off　course　in　the　tide　of　a　world　that　had　ended　and　of　which　only　the　nostalgia　remained。　Gabriel　would　sleep　wherever　time　overtook　him。　Aureliano　put　him　up　several　times　in　the　silver　workshop；　but　he　would　spend　his　nights　awake；　disturbed　by　the　noise　of　the　dead　people　who　walked　through　the　bedrooms　until　dawn。　Later　he　turned　him　over　to　Nigromanta；　who　took　him　to　her　well…used　room　when　she　was　free　and　put　down　his　account　with　vertical　marks　behind　the　door　in　the　few　spaces　left　free　by　Aureliano’s　debts。
　　　In　spite　of　their　disordered　life；　the　whole　group　tried　to　do　something　permanent　at　the　urging　of　the　wise　Catalonian。　It　was　he；　with　his　experience　as　a　former　professor　of　classical　literature　and　his　storehouse　of　rare　books；　who　got　them　to　spend　a　whole　night　in　search　of　the　thirty…seventh　dramatic　situation　in　a　town　where　no　one　had　any　interest　any　more　in　going　beyond　primary　school。　Fascinated　by　the　discovery　of　friendship；　bewildered　by　the　enchantments　of　a　world　which　had　been　forbidden　to　him　by　Fernanda’s　meanness；　Aureliano　abandoned　the　scrutiny　of　the　parchments　precisely　when　they　were　beginning　to　reveal　themselves　as　predictions　in　coded　lines　of　poetry。　But　the　subsequent　proof　that　there　was　time　enough　for　everything　without　having　to　give　up　the　brothels　gave　him　the　drive　to　return　to　Melquíades？room；　having　decided　not　to　flag　in　his　efforts　until　he　had　discovered　the　last　keys。　That　was　during　the　time　that　Gaston　began　to　wait　for　the　airplane　and　Amaranta　？rsula　was　so　lonely　that　one　morning　she　appeared　in　the　room。
　　　“Hello；　cannibal；？she　said　to　him。　“Back　in　your　cave　again？？
　　　She　was　irresistible；　with　a　dress　she　had　designed　and　one　of　the　long　shad…vertebra　necklaces　that　she　herself　had　made。　She　had　stopped　using　the　leash；　convinced　of　her　husband’s　faithfulness；　and　for　the　first　time　since　her　return　she　seemed　to　have　a　moment　of　ease。　Aureliano　did　not　need　to　see　her　to　know　that　she　had　arrived。　She　put　her　elbows　on　the　table；　so　close　and　so　helpless　that　Aureliano　heard　the　deep　sound　of　her　bones；　and　she　became　interested　in　the　parchments。　Trying　to　overe　his　disturbance；　he　grasped　at　the　voice　that　he　was　losing；　the　life　that　was　leaving　him；　the　memory　that　was　turning　into　a　petrified　polyp；　and　he　spoke　to　her　about　the　priestly　destiny　of　Sanskrit；　the　scientific　possibility　of　seeing　the　future　showing　through　in　time　as　one　sees　what　is　written　on　the　back　of　a　sheet　of　paper　through　the　light；　the　necessity　of　deciphering　the　predictions　so　that　they　would　not　defeat　themselves；　and　the　Centuries　of　Nostradamus　and　the　destruction　of　Cantabria　predicted　by　Saint　Milanus。　Suddenly；　without　interrupting　the　chat；　moved　by　an　impulse　that　had　been　sleeping　in　him　since　his　origins；　Aureliano　put　his　hand　on　hers；　thinking　that　that　final　decision　would　put　an　end　to　his　doubts。　She　grabbed　his　index　finger　with　the　affectionate　innocence　with　which　she　had　done　so　in　childhood；　however；　and　she　held　it　while　he　kept　on　answering　questions。　They　remained　like　that；　linked　by　icy　index　fingers　that　did　not　transmit　anything　in　any　way　until　she　awoke　from　her　momentary　dream　and　slapped　her　forehead　with　her　hand。　“The　ants！？she　exclaimed。　And　then　she　forgot　about　the　manuscripts；　went　to　the　door　with　a　dance　step；　and　from　there　she　threw　Aureliano　a　kiss　with　the　tips　of　her　fingers　as　she　had　said　good…bye　to　her　father　on　the　afternoon　when　they　sent　her　to　Brussels。
　　　“You　can　tell　me　later；？she　said。　“I　forgot　that　today’s　the　day　to　put　quicklime　on　the　anthills。？
　　　She　continued　going　to　the　room　occasionally　when　she　had　something　to　do　in　that　part　of　the　house　and　she　would　stay　there　for　a　few　minutes　while　her　husband　continued　to　scrutinize　the　sky。　Encouraged　by　that　change；　Aureliano　stayed　to　eat　with　the　family　at　that　time　as　he　had　not　done　since　the　first　months　of　Amaranta　？rsula’s　return。　Gaston　was　pleased。　During　the　conversatio