By Luz E. Macias
...because you light the lamps of he who sleeps in my pupils.
Iv�n Sil�n
It was always a hallucination, passing by those streets full of colonial houses with huge gardens. I supposed that something strange inhabited the big house that stood out among all the others. I never asked the grown ups what made that house different. It had many doors and windows with shutters, which allowed them to be opened a little at a time. All the other houses on that street opened their windows to let the morning light in, but not this one. Every morning, I would pass by and look in, thinking that something perverse was hiding out there. It was enchanting, with its two painted floors, dark green doors, and white walls. On my way back from school in the afternoons, I would stand in front of the house, to see if some living creature would look out on its balconies. But it was useless.
One night, during dinner, Mom announced that we were going to move. I was a little sad, and didn't want to ask where we were going. I imagined losing the fantasy of passing by that street and standing in front of the house, with its beauty, its enchantment... and of discovering its interior. I wouldn't be able to wait for some unknown person to open its doors and invite me in. I was sad and didn't pay any attention to my mother. We lived three blocks above that mysterious house. I liked to pass by and wrap myself up in the aromas of its imperial garden, to imagine its rooms, to sense its smells of mahogany, of pine, of warm earth, to feel its perfume. Then I would wake up from my dream and see myself in front of the house, as if I was the smallest being in the universe. At night, I wanted to escape from home, and go and look at it, to see its lights. But my mom was nervous, and didn't let us go off our street.
Thinking of moving bothered me. I drifted away from my schoolwork. My only obsession was the big house. It was like a castle with walls made of bahareque a mixture of dirt, cow manure and other materials used to make walls in colonial times. Several times, I tried to knock on the door, but something inside told me that this was bad. The whole fantasy ended when we moved out of town.
There were no longer any cow manure palaces to seduce me. I didn't want to go to school. I didn't want my mom to talk to me. I hated her so much... I stopped eating, and began getting weaker. My mom was really worried, and asked me why I didn't want to do things with the rest of my brothers and sisters. I didn't answer. My silence forced my mother to ask the doctors about my health. I refused to go anywhere. I stopped talking to everyone. The only person who made me laugh or altered my sadness was my father. I asked him if we could back to the old house there, everything would be different. Dad asked the doctors and returning was the medicine they prescribed.
Plans were carefully laid out. The house we lived in before wasn't available, so we moved into a house across from the big, old house. I felt better and began eating again. My mom didn't understand why I was so happy. She seemed to be acting a little strange, and whispered with the servants. Dad moved silently through the house after coming home from work. Everything was done the way I asked. The first couple of days we lived in front of the house, I would get up early and open the curtains, then open one of the shutters, and look out across the way. Everything was the same as the day before.
For my birthday, I asked Dad to give me some binoculars. He was quite surprised, and asked why I needed them. I lied. He was very naive and wanted to give me everything I asked for. I dedicated myself to observing the house with my binoculars every day after school. I didn't observe any changes. Nevertheless, one morning, I saw a shutter open up on the second floor. In that moment, Dad was leaving the house to go to work.
I saw that he looked across the way, and moved his hand as if he was saying hello to someone. I was worried by this, and took out my binoculars to look once again. I didn't see anything except for a dark window. In my house, my father was a normal person who loved his wife and children very much. There were never any arguments between my parents, or scenes of jealousy, or complaints. But I do remember that my mother changed her attitude with me when we moved back here. She looked at me with anger, as if I was guilty of something. This didn't matter to me. I had won the battle with her. The house was my fantasy. I had to protect it against all odds.
One day, I made up the story that I was sick, and Mom wanted to make me go to school. Dad appeared in that moment, and called her off to one side. Nothing was said about the matter; I stayed home. So, I started spying on the house. That morning, at around 11, I saw a blond woman, tall, with long hair, very pretty, who opened the door, entered the house, and closed the door behind her. From that moment, I began watching the same spot, but no one came out. In the afternoon, at 2, a shutter opened up on the second floor. Inside, there was no one, only darkness.
That night, seated in the kitchen with my brothers, I asked who lived across the way from our house. Everyone looked at me with a perplexed expression. I think I even heard coughs and choking sounds as an answer.
Nobody said anything. Mom didn't finish her dinner. She got up and left, and didn't look at anyone. Dad ate a bit more, and was about to get up from the table, when I said: �yesterday, I saw a very pretty woman go in that house�. He said that nobody lived in that house. He prohibited my looking at that place, or even mentioning it. Mom didn't leave the bedroom. I sensed that she was very angry. Then, I saw Dad sitting in the living room, reading the newspaper.
With my idea of going inside the house, I asked for permission to go out and play in the street. I promised myself that I would enter the house. I had the binoculars under my sweater, in order to look inside. The lights were out. I was scared, but I wanted to break into that world that they had forbidden me to enter. I walked through the garden, tripping over the plants. I nearly ran. I was careful so that the neighbors wouldn't see me. I walked until reaching the service entrance. I was trembling. I wanted to turn back, but something like Lucifer led me by the hand. I pushed the door, which opened with a chilling creak. Suddenly, the lights switched on and I saw myself in front of a mirror. I was blond, tall, svelte, and with long hair.
That night, I couldn't sleep. Someone had to clean up everything. To bring back the beauty and sumptuousness of the past. I laughed with happiness. Now, my new clothes from the antique closet would make me prettier than ever. I even looked like the woman in the painting hanging on the wall above the chimney, looking at me with a smile. Everything was covered by white sheets. I thought about each detail with great care. That night, I made sure not to switch on the lights. I wanted to avoid calling the attention of the neighbors. The house was just like before, like in the paintings. Now the only thing missing was to fill it up with guests, with beautiful women and men. At night, the windows and doors had to be opened and the lights turned on, in order to wait for the guests of honor.
The next morning, I opened one of the second floor shutters. With my binoculars, I looked at the house in front. I hoped to see that blond, older man who always looked up at this balcony, and waved. I remained beside the shutters in order to see him, from early morning on. I've sent him various invitations to have dinner together. I'll be waiting for him tonight.
LA MANSION
Por Luz E Macias
....por que enciendes los faroles del
que duerme en mis pupilas.
Iv�n Sil�n.
Siempre fue una alucinaci�n pasar por aquella calle de casas coloniales con jardines grandes. Observar la casona que se levantaba en medio de las otras me llevaba a intuir que algo raro la habitaba. Nunca pregunt� a los mayores qu� hab�a en ella que las otras viviendas no ten�an. Era grande con muchas puertas y ventanas con postigos por si no quer�an abrirlas del todo. Todas las moradas de esta calle se abr�an para dar paso a la luz ma�anera, pero �sta no. Cada ma�ana al pasar, la miraba como si algo perverso se escondiera all�. Era un encanto: sus dos pisos pintados, las puertas de verde oscuro, sus paredes blancas. En las tardes, cuando regresaba de la escuela, me paraba al frente, para ver si alg�n viviente se asomaba a sus balcones, pero todo era in�til.
Una noche cuando com�amos mam� nos anunci� que nos mudar�amos de casa. Yo, un poco triste, no quer�a preguntar hacia qu� lugar nos �bamos. Imaginaba perder ese sue�o de pasar por esta calle y pararme a gozar de su belleza, de su embriaguez... de descubrir su interior. Ya no esperar�a alg�n ser desconocido que abriera sus puertas y me invitara a conocerla. Estaba triste y no prest� atenci�n a mi madre. Viv�amos tres calles m�s arriba de la casa misteriosa. Me gustaba pasar y envolverme en sus olores, en su jard�n imperial, imaginar sus cuartos, husmear el olor a caoba, a pino, a tierra c�lida, sentir su perfume. Cuando despertaba de mi arrobamiento me ve�a frente a ella como el ser m�s peque�o del universo. En las noches quer�a escapar de casa e ir y mirarla, para ver sus luces encendidas, pero mi madre era miedosa y no nos dejaba alejar de la calle en que resid�amos.
El pensar mudarnos de lugar me desconcert� y me alej� de mis estudios. Mi �nica obsesi�n era la casona. Ella semejaba a un castillo con paredes de bareque. Varias veces intent� tocar la puerta pero algo dentro de mi me dec�a que era malo. Toda esta fantas�a termin� cuando nos fuimos a vivir fuera del pueblo.
Ya no hab�a palacios de bo�iga que me sedujeran, no quer�a ir a la escuela, ni que mam� me hablara. La odi� tanto... Dej� de comer, me fui debilitando. Ella, muy preocupada, me preguntaba por qu� no quer�a hacer las cosas como todos mis hermanos. No contestaba. Mi silencio oblig� a mi madre a investigar con los m�dicos sobre mi salud. Yo me negu� ir a cualquier lugar. Dej� de hablarles. La �nica persona que me hac�a reir o cambiar mi tristeza era mi padre. A �l le pregunt� si pod�amos volver a la casa de antes, all� todo ser�a distinto. Pap� lo consult� con los m�dicos y regresar fue la medicina que me recetaron.
Se plane� con cuidado. La casa donde vivimos antes no pod�a ser, as� que nos mudamos frente a la casona. Yo me alivi� y volv� a comer. Mi madre no entend�a por qu� me sent�a tan feliz. A ella la notaba un poco extra�a y cuchicheaba con los sirvientes. Pap� se paseaba silencioso por la casa despu�s de regresar del trabajo. Todo se realiz� como yo lo quise. Los primeros d�as de vivir frente a la casa, me levantaba temprano y corr�a las cortinas, luego abr�a uno de los postigos y miraba hacia el frente. Todo estaba como el d�a anterior. Para mi cumplea�os ped� a pap� que me regalara unos bin�culos. Sorprendido me pregunt� para qu� los necesitaba. Le ment�. El era muy ingenuo y quer�a complacerme en todo. Con mis binoculares me dedicaba a observar la casa cada vez que regresaba de la escuela. No observ� ning�n cambio. Sin embargo, una ma�ana vi abrir un postigo en la segunda planta. En ese momento pap� sal�a de casa para el trabajo.
Observ� que �l miraba para all� y movi� su mano como s� saludara a alguien. Preocupada por esto saqu� mis lentes y mir� de nuevo. Nada vi excepto lo obscuro de una ventana. En casa mi padre era una persona normal que amaba mucho a su esposa e hijos. Nunca hubo discusi�n entre ellos, ni escena de celos ni quejas. Lo que s� recuerdo cuando nos mudamos aqu� es que mi madre cambi� su actitud conmigo. Me miraba con rab�a como si yo fuera la culpable de algo, cosa que a m� no me import�. Yo hab�a ganado ante ella. La casa era mi fantas�a. La deb�a de proteger contra todo. Un d�a invent� estar enferma y mam� quiso obligarme a ir a la escuela. Pap� apareci� en ese momento y la llam� aparte. Nada se dijo al respecto y yo qued� en casa. As� que me puse espiar la casona. Esa ma�ana como a las once vi que una mujer rubia, alta, de pelo largo, muy hermosa, abri� la puerta y luego cerr� al entrar. De ah� en adelante me pas� mirando para ese lugar, pero nadie sal�a. En la tarde como a las dos se abri� un postigo del segundo piso. En su interior no hab�a nadie, s�lo obscuridad. Esa noche sentada en el comedor con mis hermanos, pregunt� qui�n viv�a frente a nuestra casa. Todos me miraron perplejos; creo que hasta ahogo y toses escuch� por respuesta. Nadie dijo nada. Mam� no termin� la comida. Se levant�. Sali� sin mirar a nadie. Pap� comi� un poco m�s y ya ya se iba a levantar cuando le dije: Esta ma�ana vi una mujer muy hermosa entrar a esa casa. El contest� que all� no viv�a nadie. Me prohibi� mirar hacia aquel lugar o que ni siquiera lo mencionara. Mam� no volvi� a salir de su dormitorio. Present� que estaba muy enojada. Luego, vi a pap� sentado en la sala leyendo el peri�dico.
Yo, con mi idea de entrar al interior de la casa, ped� permiso para salir a jugar en la calle. Me promet� que esa noche entrar�a. Llevaba debajo de mi su�ter los bin�culos para mirar su interior. Las luces estaban apagadas. Ten�a miedo pero quer�a invadir ese mundo que me prohib�an desflorar. Camin� por el jard�n tropezando con las plantas, cas� corr�a. Cuidaba que los vecinos no me vieran. Camin� hacia la puerta del servicio. Llegu� temblorosa. Quise regresar, pero una fuerza luciferina me llevaba de la mano. Empuj� la puerta y �sta se abri� con un chirrido escalofriante. De pronto las luces se encendieron y me v� frente a un espejo; era rubia, alta, esbelta con el cabello largo. Esa noche no pude dormir. Alguien deb�a limpiar todo. Devolverle a la casa la belleza y suntuosidad del pasado. Re�a de felicidad. Ahora con los trajes nuevos del ropero antiguo, lucir�a mejor que nunca. Es m�s, me parec�a a la mujer del cuadro que colgado en la pared, encima de la chimenea, me miraba sonriente. Todo estaba cubierto por pa�uelones blancos. Pens� cada detalle con mucho cuidado. Esa noche procur� no encender todas las luces. Quer�a evitar llamar la atenci�n de los vecinos. La casa estaba como antes, como en los cuadros. Ahora faltaba llenarla de invitados, de mujeres bellas y hombres hermosos. En las noches deb�an abrirse ventanas y puertas, encender sus luces y esperar agasajados.
A la ma�ana siguiente, abr� uno de los postigos de la segunda planta. Con los bin�culos miraba a la casa de enfrente. Esperaba ver salir de all� aquel hombre rubio, maduro que siempre miraba para este balc�n y saludaba. Desde temprano permanec�a al pie del postigo para verle. Le he enviado varias invitaciones a cenar. Esta noche lo espero.
Copyright@
From The Steps: Stories from Heaven & Inferno (2000)