拉丁美洲女性短篇小说：《复仇之举》

复仇之举
伊莎贝尔・阿连德

在那个灿烂的正午，杜尔塞・罗莎・奥雷利亚诺头戴茉莉花冠，被加冕为狂欢节女王。其他参选者的母亲们私下嘀咕，说她仅仅因为是全省最有权势的人安塞尔莫・奥雷利亚诺参议员的独生女就夺冠，实在不公平。她们承认这姑娘很迷人，钢琴弹得好，舞也跳得无人能及，但其他参赛的女孩比她漂亮得多。她们看着她身穿蝉翼纱裙，头戴花冠站在台上，当她向人群挥手时，她们咬牙切齿地咒骂着她。正因如此，几个月后，当厄运降临奥雷利亚诺家，带来一连串的死亡，其恶果历经三十年才得以终结时，其中一些人暗自欣喜。

在女王选举的当晚，圣特雷莎市政厅举办了一场舞会，来自最偏远村庄的年轻男子们都来与杜尔塞・罗莎见面。她是如此开心，舞姿又是那样优雅，许多人都没注意到她并非最美丽的。当他们回到家乡，都宣称从未见过像她这样的面容。就这样，她获得了一份名不副实的美貌声誉，而且后来的见证也无法证明事实并非如此。关于她那吹弹可破的肌肤和如梦如幻的双眸的夸张描述口口相传，每个人都根据自己的想象添油加醋。来自远方城市的诗人们为这位名叫杜尔塞・罗莎的假想少女创作十四行诗。

奥雷利亚诺参议员家中有位佳人的传闻也传到了塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯的耳中。他从未想过自己能见到她，因为在他这二十五年的人生里，既没时间学诗，也无暇看女人。他只关心内战。从他开始刮胡子起，手中就一直拿着武器，在火药的爆炸声中生活了很久。他早已忘记了母亲的亲吻，甚至连弥撒的圣歌都不记得了。他并非总有理由投入战斗，因为在几次休战期间，他的游击队附近并没有敌人。但即便在被迫维持和平的时候，他也过着海盗般的生活。他是个习惯了暴力的人。他在全国各地辗转，遇到看得见的敌人就与之战斗，没有敌人时就自己假想敌人来战斗。若不是他所在的政党赢得了总统大选，他可能还会继续这样的生活。一夜之间，他从秘密活动转入执掌权力，对他来说，继续叛乱的所有借口都已不复存在。

塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯的最后一项任务是对圣特雷莎进行惩罚性远征。他率领一百二十人趁着夜色潜入小镇，要给所有人一个教训，铲除反对派的领导人。他们开枪打坏了公共建筑的窗户，毁坏了教堂的大门，骑马直冲到主祭坛前，克莱门特神父试图阻拦时，他们把神父踩在了脚下。他们烧毁了妇女俱乐部在广场上种下的树木；在战斗的喧嚣声中，他们继续纵马疾驰，朝着傲然矗立在山顶的奥雷利亚诺参议员的宅邸奔去。

参议员把女儿锁在庭院最远处角落的房间里，放出了狗，然后带着十几个忠心耿耿的仆人在门口等着塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯。那一刻，他像一生中无数次那样，后悔自己没有儿子可以帮他拿起武器，捍卫家族的荣誉。他觉得自己非常苍老，但没时间多想，因为他已经看到山坡上那一百二十支火把可怕的亮光，随着它们的逼近，黑暗中的夜晚被吓得瑟瑟发抖。他默默地分发着最后的弹药。该说的话都说完了，每个人都知道，天亮前，他们都要像个男子汉一样，死在自己的战斗岗位上。
“最后一个活着的人要拿上我女儿藏身房间的钥匙，完成他的使命。” 参议员听到第一声枪响时说道。

杜尔塞・罗莎出生的时候，所有这些人都在场；她刚会走路时，他们就把她抱在膝上；冬日的午后，他们给她讲鬼故事；她弹钢琴时，他们认真倾听；她加冕为狂欢节女王的那天，他们含泪鼓掌。她的父亲可以死而无憾了，因为这女孩决不会活着落入塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯的手中。奥雷利亚诺参议员从未想过的一件事是，尽管他在战斗中勇猛无畏，自己却会是最后一个死去的人。他看着朋友们一个接一个倒下，最终意识到继续抵抗已经毫无意义。他的腹部中了一枪，视线模糊不清。他勉强能辨认出那些正在翻越他家围墙的黑影，但他仍保持着清醒的头脑，拖着身子来到了第三个庭院。狗儿们尽管闻到他身上满是汗水、鲜血和悲伤的味道，还是认出了他，闪到一旁让他过去。他把钥匙插进锁孔，透过模糊的双眼，看到杜尔塞・罗莎正等着他。女孩穿着参加狂欢节时的那件蝉翼纱裙，头上戴着花冠上的花朵。

“是时候了，我的孩子。” 他说着，扳起左轮手枪的击锤，一滩鲜血在他脚下蔓延开来。

“别杀我，父亲。” 她坚定地回答，“让我活下去，这样我就能为我们俩报仇。”

安塞尔莫・奥雷利亚诺参议员看着女儿十五岁的脸庞，想象着塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯会对她做些什么，但他在杜尔塞・罗莎清澈的双眼中看到了巨大的力量，他知道她会活下来，惩罚那个杀害他的人。女孩在床上坐下，他在她身旁就位，用左轮手枪指着房门。

当垂死的狗叫声渐渐消失，门上的横木被撞碎，门闩飞了出去，第一批人冲进了房间。参议员在失去意识前开了六枪。塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯看到一位头戴茉莉花冠的天使怀抱着一个垂死的老人时，以为自己在做梦。但他没有足够的怜悯之心再看第二眼，因为他沉浸在暴力的快感中，又因长时间的战斗而疲惫不堪。

“这女人归我了。” 在他的手下有人碰到她之前，他说道。

一个阴沉的星期五黎明来临，天空被大火映得通红。山上一片死寂。当杜尔塞・罗莎能够站起来，走到花园的喷泉旁时，最后的呻吟声也已消失。前一天，喷泉周围还环绕着木兰花，而现在，它不过是废墟中一个喧嚣的水池。她扯下身上仅存的几片蝉翼纱裙碎片后，赤裸着站在曾经的喷泉前。她走进冰冷的水中。太阳在白桦树后升起，女孩看着水变红，她清洗着从两腿间流出的血，还有父亲溅在她头发上已经干结的血。等她洗净身子，平静下来，不再流泪，便回到那座被毁坏的房子里，找些东西遮体。她拿起一条亚麻床单，走到外面去收拾参议员的遗体。他们把他绑在马后面，在山坡上拖来拖去，直到只剩下一堆可怜的破布。但出于爱，女儿毫不犹豫地认出了他。她用床单把他裹起来，坐在他身旁，看着黎明渐渐变成白昼。当圣特雷莎的邻居们终于鼓起勇气爬上奥雷利亚诺的别墅时，看到的就是这样的她。他们帮杜尔塞・罗莎埋葬了死者，扑灭了余火。他们恳求她去另一个小镇和她的教母一起生活，在那里没人知道她的遭遇，但她拒绝了。然后他们组织人手重建房子，还给了她六条凶猛的狗来保护她。

从他们把还活着的父亲拖走，塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯关上门，解开皮带的那一刻起，杜尔塞・罗莎就为复仇而活。在接下来的三十年里，这个念头让她夜不能寐，充斥着她的每一天，但它并没有完全夺走她的笑容，也没有让她变得脾气暴躁。她的美貌声名远扬，吟游诗人四处传颂着她那想象中的迷人之处，直到她成为了一个活生生的传奇。她每天凌晨四点起床，监督农场和家务，骑着马巡视自己的土地，买卖东西，像个叙利亚人一样讨价还价，饲养牲畜，打理花园里的木兰花和茉莉花。下午，她会脱下长裤、靴子和武器，穿上从首都送来的装在散发着香气的箱子里的漂亮裙子。夜幕降临，访客们开始到来，他们会看到她在弹钢琴，而仆人们则准备着一盘盘糖果和一杯杯杏仁糖浆。很多人都不明白，这女孩怎么没有最终被关进疯人院，穿上束缚衣，或者成为加尔默罗会的见习修女。不过，由于奥雷利亚诺别墅时常举办派对，随着时间的推移，人们不再谈论那场悲剧，也渐渐淡忘了被杀害的参议员。一些既有名望又有财富的先生们克服了因她曾被强奸而产生的反感，被杜尔塞・罗莎的美貌和柔情所吸引，向她求婚。她拒绝了所有人，因为她在世上的唯一使命就是复仇。

塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯也无法忘却那个夜晚。几个小时后，他在前往首都汇报惩罚性远征结果的路上，杀戮后的宿醉和强奸带来的快感渐渐消退。这时，他想起了那个穿着派对裙、头戴茉莉花冠的女孩，在那间弥漫着火药味的黑暗房间里，她默默地忍受着他的侵犯。他又一次看到了最后的场景，她躺在地上，几乎被染血的破布遮不住身体，沉浸在无意识的怜悯拥抱中。在他此后的人生里，每晚入睡时，他都会看到她那副模样。和平、执政以及权力的运用让他变成了一个安稳、勤奋的人。随着时间的流逝，内战的记忆渐渐淡去，人们开始称他为唐・塔迪奥。他在山的另一边买了一个牧场，致力于主持正义，最后当上了镇长。若不是杜尔塞・罗莎・奥雷利亚诺那挥之不去的幻影，他或许能获得某种程度的幸福。但在他遇到的所有女人身上，他都能看到狂欢节女王的面容。更糟糕的是，流行诗人的歌曲常常包含提到她名字的诗句，这让他无法将她从心中抹去。这个年轻女子的形象在他心中不断放大，完全占据了他的内心，直到有一天，他再也无法忍受。在他五十五岁生日的宴会上，他坐在长桌的主位，周围都是朋友和同事，这时他仿佛在桌布上看到一个赤裸的女孩躺在茉莉花丛中，他明白，即使死后，这个噩梦也不会让他安宁。他一拳砸在桌上，震得餐具直响，然后要来了帽子和手杖。

“你要去哪儿，唐・塔迪奥？” 地方行政长官问道。

“去弥补一些陈年的过错。” 他说着，没跟任何人道别就离开了。

他不必刻意去找她，因为他一直知道她会在遭遇不幸的那所房子里，于是他开车朝那个方向驶去。那时已经修好了宽敞的公路，距离似乎也变短了。几十年来，风景已经变了，但当他转过山边的最后一个弯道时，那座别墅就如他记忆中部队进攻前的模样出现在眼前。那些他曾用炸药炸毁的用河石砌成的坚固墙壁还在，那些他放火烧过的古老木箱还在，那些他曾用来吊死参议员手下人的树还在，那个他曾屠杀狗的庭院也还在。他在离门一百米的地方停下车，不敢再往前走，因为他感觉自己的心脏在胸腔里剧烈跳动。他正要转身回去，这时院子里出现了一个身影，裙摆闪耀着光芒。他闭上眼睛，拼命希望她认不出自己。在柔和的暮色中，他看到杜尔塞・罗莎・奥雷利亚诺正朝他走来，沿着花园小径飘然而至。他注意到她的头发、她那纯净的脸庞、她优雅的举止、她裙摆的飘动，他觉得自己仿佛置身于一个持续了三十年的梦境中。

“你终于来了，塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯。” 她看着他说，没有被他镇长的装束或绅士般的灰白头发所迷惑，因为他的双手依然像当年的海盗一样。

“你一直纠缠着我。在我的一生中，除了你，我从未爱过任何人。” 他喃喃地说，声音因羞愧而哽咽。

杜尔塞・罗莎满意地叹了口气。终于，她等待的时刻到了。但她凝视着他的眼睛，却没有发现一丝刽子手的影子，只有新的泪水。她在心中搜寻着三十年来精心培育的仇恨，却怎么也找不到。她回想起自己请求父亲做出牺牲，让她活下去以完成复仇使命的那一刻；她重温了与这个她诅咒过无数次的男人的拥抱；她记起了那个清晨，她用亚麻床单包裹着那些悲惨的遗体。她回顾了自己完美的复仇计划，但并没有感受到预期的喜悦，相反，她感到一种深深的忧郁。塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯温柔地握住她的手，亲吻着她的掌心，泪水浸湿了她的手。这时，她惊恐地意识到，因为每时每刻都想着他，提前品味着对他的惩罚，她的感情已经发生了逆转，她爱上了这个杀害父亲的人。

在接下来的日子里，他们俩打开了压抑已久的爱情闸门，自命运对他们如此残酷地做出裁决以来，他们第一次敞开心扉，接受对方的亲近。他们在花园里漫步，谈论着自己的一切，毫无保留，甚至包括那个扭转了他们人生方向的致命夜晚。夜幕降临，她弹钢琴，他抽烟，听着她的琴声，直到他感到全身酥软，幸福像毯子一样将他包裹，驱散了过去的噩梦。晚饭后，他前往圣特雷莎，那里已经没人记得那个古老的恐怖故事了。他在最好的酒店订了一个房间，从那里筹备他们的婚礼。他想要一场热闹非凡、奢华无比、充满欢声笑语的婚礼，让全镇的人都能参加。他在其他男人已不再抱有幻想的年纪找到了爱情，这让他重新找回了青春的活力。他想让杜尔塞・罗莎被爱和美好环绕，想给她一切金钱能买到的东西，想看看在晚年能否弥补年轻时犯下的过错。有时他会感到恐慌。他在她的脸上寻找哪怕一丝一毫的怨恨，但看到的只有两人相爱的光芒，这又让他重拾信心。就这样，一个月的幸福时光过去了。

婚礼前两天，当他们已经在花园里摆好宴会的桌子，宰杀着鸡鸭猪准备宴席，采摘鲜花装饰房子的时候，杜尔塞・罗莎・奥雷利亚诺试穿了她的婚纱。她看着镜子中的自己，就像当年加冕为狂欢节女王那天一样，她意识到自己再也无法欺骗自己的心了。她知道自己无法实施早已计划好的复仇，因为她爱上了那个杀人凶手，但她也无法让参议员的亡灵安息。她打发走了裁缝，拿起剪刀，来到了第三个庭院的那个房间，那个房间这么多年来一直空着。

塔迪奥・塞斯佩德斯四处找她，绝望地呼喊着她的名字。狗叫声把他引到了房子的另一边。在园丁们的帮助下，他撞开了紧闭的房门，走进了三十年前他看到头戴茉莉花冠的天使的那个房间。他看到杜尔塞・罗莎・奥雷利亚诺，就像他一生中每个夜晚在梦中见到的那样，静静地躺在那件同样染血的蝉翼纱裙里。他意识到，为了赎清自己的罪过，他将不得不活到九十岁，带着对这个他灵魂唯一爱过的女人的记忆活下去。

小 E.D. 卡特 译 
-以上使用豆包翻译，以下为原文
An Act of Vengeance
Isabel Allende

On that glorious noonday when Dulce Rosa Orellano was crowned with the jasmines of Carnival Queen, the mothers of the other candidates murmured that it was unfair for her to win just because she was the only daughter of the most powerful man in the entire province, Senator Anselmo Orellano. They admitted that the girl was charm- ing and that she played the piano and danced like no other, but there were other competitors for the prize who were far more beautiful. They saw her standing on the platform in her organdy dress and with her crown of flowers, and as she waved at the crowd they cursed her through their clenched teeth. For that reason, some of them were overjoyed some months later when misfortune entered the Orellano’s house sowing such a crop of death that thirty years were required to reap it.
On the night of the queen’s election, a dance was held in the Santa Teresa Town Hall, and young men from the remotest villages came to meet Dulce Rosa. She was so happy and danced with such grace that many failed to perceive that she was not the most beautiful, and when they returned to where they had come from they all declared that they had never before seen a face like hers. Thus she acquired an unmerited reputation for beauty and later testimony was never able to prove to the contrary. The exaggerated descriptions of her translucent skin and her diaphanous eyes were passed from mouth to mouth, and each individual added something to them from his own imagination. Poets from distant cities composed sonnets to a hypothetical maiden whose name was Dulce Rosa.
Rumors of the beauty who was flourishing in Senator Orellano’s house also reached the ears of Tadeo Céspedes, who never dreamed he would be able to meet her, since during all his twenty-five years he had neither had time to learn poetry nor to look at women. He was concerned only with the Civil War. Ever since he had begun to shave he had had a weapon in his hands, and he had lived for a long time amidst the sound of exploding gunpowder. He had forgotten his mother’s kisses and even the songs of mass. He did not always have reason to go into battle, because during several periods of truce there were no adversaries within reach of his guerrilla band. But even in times of forced peace he lived like a corsair. He was a man habituated to violence. He crossed the country in every direction, fighting visible enemies when he found them, and battling shadows when he was forced to invent them. He would have continued in the same way if his party had not won the presidential election. Overnight he went from a clandestine existence to wielding power, and all pretext for continuing the rebellion had ended for him.
Tadeo Céspedes’s final mission was the punitive expedition against Santa Teresa. With a hundred and twenty men he entered the town under cover of darkness to teach everyone a lesson and eliminate the leaders of the opposition. They shot out the windows in the public buildings, destroyed the church door, and rode their horses right up to the main altar, crushing Father Clemente when he tried to block their way. They burned the trees that the Ladies’ Club had planted in the square; amidst all the clamor of battle, they continued at a gallop toward Senator Orellano’s house which rose up proudly on top of the hill.
After having locked his daughter in the room at the farthest corner of the patio and turned the dogs loose, the Senator waited for Tadeo Céspedes at the head of a dozen loyal servants. At that moment he regretted, as he had so many other times in his life, not having had male descendants who could help him to take up arms and defend the honor of his house. He felt very old, but he did not have time to think about it, because he had spied on the hillside the terrible flash of a hundred and twenty torches that terrorized the night as they advanced. He distributed the last of the ammunition in silence. Everything had been said, and each of them knew that before morning he would be required to die like a man at his battle station.
“The last man alive will take the key to the room where my daughter is hidden and carry out his duty,” said the Senator as he heard the first shots.
All the men had been present when Dulce Rosa was born and had held her on their knees when she was barely able to walk; they had told her ghost stories on winter afternoons; they had listened to her play the piano and they had applauded in tears on the day of her coronation as Carnival Queen. Her father could die in peace, because the girl would never fall alive into the hands of Tadeo Céspedes. The one thing that never crossed Senator Orellano’s mind was that, in spite of his recklessness in battle, he would be the last to die. He saw his friends fall one by one and finally realized that it was useless to continue resisting. He had a bullet in his stomach and his vision was blurred. He was barely able to distinguish the shadows that were climbing the high walls surrounding his property, but he still had the presence of mind to drag himself to the third patio. The dogs recognized his scent despite the sweat, blood, and sadness that covered him and moved aside to let him pass. He inserted the key in the lock and through the mist that covered his eyes saw Dulce Rosa waiting for him. The girl was wearing the same organdy dress that she had worn for the Carnival and had adorned her hair with the flowers from the crown.
“It’s time, my child,” he said, cocking his revolver as a puddle of blood spread about his feet.
“Don’t kill me, father,” she replied in a firm voice. “Let me live so that I can avenge us both.”
Senator Anselmo Orellano looked into his daughter’s fifteen-year-old face and imagined what Tadeo Céspedes would do to her, but he saw great strength in Dulce Rosa’s transparent eyes, and he knew that she would survive to punish his executioner. The girl sat down on the bed and he took his place at her side, pointing his revolver at the door.
When the uproar from the dying dogs had faded, the bar across the door was shattered, the bolt flew off, and the first group of men burst into the room. The Senator managed to fire six shots before losing consciousness. Tadeo Céspedes thought he was dreaming when he saw an angel crowned in jasmines holding a dying old man in her arms. But he did not possess sufficient pity to look for a second time, since he was drunk with violence and enervated by hours of combat.
“The woman is mine,” he said, before any of his men could put his hands on her.
A leaden Friday dawned, tinged with the glare from the fire. The silence was thick upon the hill. The final moans had faded when Dulce Rosa was able to stand and walk to the fountain in the garden. The previous day it had been surrounded by magnolias, and now it was nothing but a tumultuous pool amidst the debris. After having removed the few strips of organdy that were all that remained of her dress, she stood nude before what had been the fountain. She submerged herself in the cold water. The sun rose behind the birches, and the girl watched the water turn red as she washed away the blood that flowed from between her legs along with that of her father which had dried in her hair. Once she was clean, calm, and without tears, she returned to the ruined house to look for something to cover herself. Picking up a linen sheet, she went outside to bring back the Senator’s remains. They had tied him behind a horse and dragged him up and down the hillside until little remained but a pitiable mound of rags. But guided by love, the daughter was able to recognize him without hesitation. She wrapped him in the sheet and sat down by his side to watch the dawn grow into day. That is how her neighbors from Santa Teresa found her when they finally dared to climb up to the Orellano villa. They helped Dulce Rosa to bury her dead and to extinguish the vestiges of the fire. They begged her to go and live with her godmother in another town where no one knew her story, but she refused. Then they formed crews to rebuild the house and gave her six ferocious dogs to protect her.
From the moment they had carried her father away, still alive, and Tadeo Céspedes had closed the door behind them and unbuckled his leather belt, Dulce Rosa lived for revenge. In the thirty years that followed, that thought kept her awake at night and filled her days, but it did not completely obliterate her laughter nor dry up her good disposition. Her reputation for beauty increased as troubadors went everywhere proclaiming her imaginary enchantments until she became a living legend. She arose every morning at four o’clock to oversee the farm and household chores, roam her property on horseback, buy and sell, haggling like a Syrian, breed livestock, and cultivate the magnolias and jasmines in her garden. In the afternoon she would remove her trousers, her boots, and her weapons, and put on the lovely dresses which had come from the capital in aromatic trunks. At nightfall visitors would begin to arrive and would find her playing the piano while the servants prepared trays of sweets and glasses of orgeat. Many people asked themselves how it was possible that the girl had not ended up in a straitjacket in a sanitarium or as a novitiate with the Carmelite nuns. Nevertheless, since there were frequent parties at the Orellano villa, with the passage of time people stopped talking about the tragedy and erased the murdered Senator from their memories. Some gentlemen who possessed both fame and fortune managed to overcome the repugnance they felt because of the rape and, attracted by Dulce Rosa’s beauty and sensitivity, proposed marriage. She rejected them all, for her only mission on Earth was vengeance.
Tadeo Céspedes was also unable to get that night out of his mind. The hangover from all the killing and the euphoria from the rape left him as he was on his way to the capital a few hours later to report the results of his punitive expedition. It was then that he remembered the child in a party dress and crowned with jasmines, who endured him in silence in that dark room where the air was impregnated with the odor of gunpowder. He saw her once again in the final scene, lying on the floor, barely covered by her reddened rags, sunk in the compassionate embrace of unconsciousness, and he continued to see her that way every night of his life just as he fell asleep. Peace, the exercise of government, and the use of power turned him into a settled, hard-working man. With the passage of time, memories of the Civil War faded away and the people began to call him Don Tadeo. He bought a ranch on the other side of the mountains, devoted himself to administering justice, and ended up as mayor. If it had not been for Dulce Rosa Orellano’s tireless phantom, perhaps he might have attained a certain degree of happiness. But in all the women who crossed his path, he saw the face of the Carnival Queen. And even worse, the songs by popular poets, often containing verses that mentioned her name, would not permit him to expel her from his heart. The young woman’s image grew within him, occupying him completely, until one day he could stand it no longer. He was at the head of a long banquet table celebrating his fifty-fifth birthday, surrounded by friends and colleagues, when he thought he saw in the tablecloth a child lying naked among jasmine blossoms, and understood that the nightmare would not leave him in peace even after his death. He struck the table with his fist, causing the dishes to shake, and asked for his hat and cane.
“Where are you going, Don Tadeo?” asked the Prefect.
“To repair some ancient damage,” he said as he left without taking leave of anyone.
It was not necessary for him to search for her, because he always knew that she would be found in the same house where her misfortune had occurred, and it was in that direction that he pointed his car. By then good highways had been built and distances seemed shorter. The scenery had changed during the decades that had passed, but as he rounded the last curve by the hill, the villa appeared just as he remembered it before his troops had taken it in the attack. There were the solid walls made of river rock that he had destroyed with dynamite charges, there the ancient wooden coffers he had set afire, there the trees where he had hung the bodies of the Senator’s men, there the patio where he had slaughtered the dogs. He stopped his vehicle a hundred meters from the door and dared not continue because he felt his heart exploding inside his chest. He was going to turn around and go back to where he came from, when a figure surrounded by the halo of her skirt appeared in the yard. He closed his eyes, hoping with all his might that she would not recognize him. In the soft twilight, he perceived that Dulce Rosa Orellano was advancing toward him, floating along the garden paths. He noted her hair, her candid face, the harmony of her gestures, the swirl of her dress, and he thought he was suspended in a dream that had lasted for thirty years.
“You’ve finally come, Tadeo Céspedes,” she said as she looked at him, not allowing herself to be deceived by his mayor’s suit or his gentlemanly gray hair, because he still had the same pirate’s hands.
“You’ve pursued me endlessly. In my whole life I’ve never been able to love anyone but you,” he murmured, his voice choked with shame.
Dulce Rosa gave a satisfied sigh. At last her time had come. But she looked into his eyes and failed to discover a single trace of the executioner, only fresh tears. She searched her heart for the hatred she had cultivated throughout those thirty years, but she was incapable of finding it. She evoked the instant that she had asked her father to make his sacrifice and let her live so that she could carry out her duty; she relived the embrace of the man whom she had cursed so many times, and remembered the early morning when she had wrapped some tragic remains in a linen sheet. She went over her perfect plan of vengeance, but did not feel the expected happiness; instead she felt its opposite, a profound melancholy. Tadeo Céspedes delicately took her hand and kissed the palm, wetting it with his tears. Then she understood with horror that by thinking about him every moment, and savoring his punishment in advance, her feelings had become reversed and she had fallen in love with him.
During the following days both of them opened the floodgates of repressed love and, for the first time since their cruel fate was decided, opened themselves to receive the other’s proximity. They strolled through the gardens talking about themselves and omitting nothing, even that fatal night which had twisted the direction of their lives. As evening fell, she played the piano and he smoked, listening to her until he felt his bones go soft and the happiness envelop him like a blan- ket and obliterate the nightmares of the past. After dinner he went to Santa Teresa where no one still remembered the ancient tale of horror. He took a room in the best hotel and from there organized his wedding. He wanted a party with fanfare, extravagance, and noise, one in which the entire town would participate. He discovered love at an age when other men have already lost their illusions, and that returned to him his youthful vigor. He wanted to surround Dulce Rosa with affection and beauty, to give her everything that money could buy, to see if he could compensate in his later years for the evil he had done as a young man. At times panic possessed him. He searched her face for the smallest sign of rancor, but he saw only the light of shared love and that gave him back his confidence. Thus a month of happiness passed.
Two days before the wedding, when they were already setting up the tables for the party in the garden, slaughtering the birds and pigs for the feast, and cutting the flowers to decorate the house, Dulce Rosa Orellano tried on her wedding dress. She saw herself reflected in the mirror, just as she had on the day of her coronation as Carnival Queen, and realized that she could no longer continue to deceive her own heart. She knew that she could not carry out the vengeance she had planned because she loved the killer, but she was also unable to quiet the Senator’s ghost. She dismissed the seamstress, took the scissors, and went to the room on the third patio which had remained unoccupied during all that time.
Tadeo Céspedes searched for her everywhere, calling out to her desperately. The barking of the dogs led him to the other side of the house. With the help of the gardeners he broke down the barred door and entered the room where thirty years before he had seen an angel crowned with jasmines. He found Dulce Rosa Orellano just as he had seen her in his dreams every night of his existence, lying motionless in the same bloody organdy dress. He realized that in order to pay for his guilt he would have to live until he was ninety with the memory of the only woman his soul could ever love.
Translated by E. D. Carter, Jr.