百年孤独(英文版)-第8部分

快捷操作: 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! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

　it　had　restored　the　intense　expression　that　he　had　had　in　his　eyes　when　he　was　born。　He　concentrated　so　much　on　his　experiments　in　silverwork　that　he　scarcely　left　the　laboratory　to　eat。　Worried　ever　his　inner　withdrawal；　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　gave　him　the　keys　to　the　house　and　a　little　money；　thinking　that　perhaps　he　needed　a　woman。　But　Aureliano　spent　the　money　on　muriatic　acid　to　prepare　some　aqua　regia　and　he　beautified　the　keys　by　plating　them　with　gold。　His　excesses　were　hardly　parable　to　those　of　Arcadio　and　Amaranta；　who　had　already　begun　to　get　their　second　teeth　and　still　went　about　all　day　clutching　at　the　Indians？cloaks；　stubborn　in　their　decision　not　to　speak　Spanish　but　the　Guajiro　language。　“You　shouldn’t　plain。？？rsula　told　her　husband。　“Children　inherit　their　parents？madness。？And　as　she　was　lamenting　her　misfortune；　convinced　that　the　wild　behavior　of　her　children　was　something　as　fearful　as　a　pig’s　tail；　Aureliano　gave　her　a　look　that　wrapped　her　in　an　atmosphere　of　uncertainty。
　　　“Somebody　is　ing；？he　told　her。
　　　？rsula；　as　she　did　whenever　he　made　a　prediction；　tried　to　break　it　down　with　her　housewifely　logic。　It　was　normal　for　someone　to　be　ing。　Dozens　of　strangers　came　through　Macondo　every　day　without　arousing　suspicion　or　secret　ideas。　Nevertheless；　beyond　all　logic；　Aureliano　was　sure　of　his　prediction。
　　　“I　don’t　know　who　it　will　be；？he　insisted；　“but　whoever　it　is　is　already　on　the　way。？
　　　That　Sunday；　in　fact；　Rebeca　arrived。　She　was　only　eleven　years　old。　She　had　made　the　difficult　trip　from　Manaure　with　some　hide　dealers　who　had　taken　on　the　task　of　delivering　her　along　with　a　letter　to　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　but　they　could　not　explain　precisely　who　the　person　was　who　had　asked　the　favor。　Her　entire　baggage　consisted　of　a　small　trunk；　a　little　rocking　chair　with　small　hand…painted　flowers；　and　a　canvas　sack　which　kept　making　a　cloc…cloc…cloc　sound；　where　she　carried　her　parents？bones。　The　letter　addressed　to　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　was　written　is　very　warm　terms　by　someone　who　still　loved　him　very　much　in　spite　of　time　and　distance；　and　who　felt　obliged　by　a　basic　humanitarian　feeling　to　do　the　charitable　thing　and　send　him　that　poor　unsheltered　orphan；　who　was　a　second　cousin　of　？rsula’s　and　consequently　also　a　relative　of　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　although　farther　removed；　because　she　was　the　daughter　of　that　unforgettable　friend　Nicanor　Ulloa　and　his　very　worthy　wife　Rebeca　Montiel；　may　God　keep　them　in　His　holy　kingdom；　whose　remains　the　girl　was　carrying　so　that　they　might　be　given　Christian　burial。　The　names　mentioned；　as　well　as　the　signature　on　the　letter；　were　perfectly　legible；　but　neither　Jos？Arcadio；　Buendía　nor　？rsula　remembered　having　any　relatives　with　those　names；　nor　did　they　know　anyone　by　the　name　of　the　sender　of　the　letter；　much　less　the　remote　village　of　Manaure。　It　was　impossible　to　obtain　any　further　information　from　the　girl。　From　the　moment　she　arrived　she　had　been　sitting　in　the　rocker；　sucking　her　finger　and　observing　everyone　with　her　large；　startled　eyes　without　giving　any　sign　of　understanding　what　they　were　asking　her。　She　wore　a　diagonally　striped　dress　that　had　been　dyed　black；　worn　by　use；　and　a　pair　of　scaly　patent　leather　boots。　Her　hair　was　held　behind　her　ears　with　bows　of　black　ribbon。　She　wore　a　scapular　with　the　images　worn　away　by　sweat；　and　on　her　right　wrist　the　fang　of　a　carnivorous　animal　mounted　on　a　backing　of　copper　as　an　amulet　against　the　evil　eye。　Her　greenish　skin；　her　stomach；　round　and　tense　as　a　drum。　revealed　poor　health　and　hunger　that　were　older　than　she　was；　but　when　they　gave　her　something　to　eat　she　kept　the　plate　on　her　knees　without　tasting　anything。　They　even　began　to　think　that　she　was　a　deaf…mute　until　the　Indians　asked　her　in　their　language　if　she　wanted　some　water　and　she　moved　her　eyes　as　if　she　recognized　them　and　said　yes　with　her　head。
　　　They　kept　her；　because　there　was　nothing　else　they　could　do。　They　decided　to　call　her　Rebeca；　which　according　to　the　letter　was　her　mother’s　name；　because　Aureliano　had　the　patience　to　read　to　her　the　names　of　all　the　saints　and　he　did　not　get　a　reaction　from　any　one　of　them。　Since　there　was　no　cemetery　in　Macondo　at　that　time；　for　no　one　had　died　up　till　then；　they　kept　the　bag　of　bones　to　wait　for　a　worthy　place　of　burial；　and　for　a　long　time　it　got　in　the　way　everywhere　and　would　be　found　where　least　expected；　always　with　its　clucking　of　a　broody　hen。　A　long　time　passed　before　Rebeca　became　incorporated　into　the　life　of　the　family。　She　would　sit　in　her　small　rocker　sucking　her　finger　in　the　most　remote　corner　of　the　house。　Nothing　attracted　her　attention　except　the　music　of　the　clocks；　which　she　would　look　for　every　half　hour　with　her　frightened　eyes　as　if　she　hoped　to　find　it　someplace　in　the　air。　They　could　not　get　her　to　eat　for　several　days。　No　one　understood　why　she　had　not　died　of　hunger　until　the　Indians；　who　were　aware　of　everything；　for　they　went　ceaselessly　about　the　house　on　their　stealthy　feet；　discovered　that　Rebeca　only　liked　to　eat　the　damp　earth　of　the　courtyard　and　the　cake　of　whitewash　that　she　picked　of　the　walls　with　her　nails。　It　was　obvious　that　her　parents；　or　whoever　had　raised　her；　had　scolded　her　for　that　habit　because　she　did　it　secretively　and　with　a　feeling　of　guilt；　trying　to　put　away　supplies　so　that　she　could　eat　when　no　one　was　looking。　From　then　on　they　put　her　under　an　implacable　watch。　They　threw　cow　gall　onto　the　courtyard　and；　rubbed　hot　chili　on　the　walls；　thinking　they　could　defeat　her　pernicious　vice　with　those　methods；　but　she　showed　such　signs　of　astuteness　and　ingenuity　to　find　some　earth　that　？rsula　found　herself　forced　to　use　more　drastic　methods。　She　put　some　orange　juice　and　rhubarb　into　a　pan　that　she　left　in　the　dew　all　night　and　she　gave　her　the　dose　the　following　day　on　an　empty　stomach。　Although　no　one　had　told　her　that　it　was　the　specific　remedy　for　the　vice　of　eating　earth；　she　thought　that　any　bitter　substance　in　an　empty　stomach　would　have　to　make　the　liver　react。　Rebeca　was　so　rebellious　and　strong　in　spite　of　her　frailness　that　they　had　to　tie　her　up　like　a　calf　to　make　her　swallow　the　medicine；　and　they　could　barely　keep　back　her　kicks　or　bear　up　under　the　strange　hieroglyphics　that　she　alternated　with　her　bites　and　spitting；　and　that；　according　to　what　the　scandalized　Indians　said；　were　the　vilest　obscenities　that　one　could　ever　imagine　in　their　language。　When　？rsula　discovered　that；　she　added　whipping　to　the　treatment。　It　was　never　established　whether　it　was　the　rhubarb　or　the　beatings　that　had　effect；　or　both　of　them　together；　but　the　truth　was　that　in　a　few　weeks　Rebeca　began　to　show　signs　of　recovery。　She　took　part　in　the　games　of　Arcadio　and　Amaranta；　who　treated　her　like　an　older　sister；　and　she　ate　heartily；　using　the　utensils　properly。　It　was　soon　revealed　that　she　spoke　Spanish　with　as　much　fluency　as　the　Indian　language；　that　she　had　a　remarkable　ability　for　manual　work；　and　that　she　could　sing　the　waltz　of　the　clocks　with　some　very　funny　words　that　she　herself　had　invented。　It　did　not　take　long　for　them　to　consider　her　another　member　of　the　family。　She　was　more　affectionate　to　？rsula　than　any　of　her　own　children　had　been；　and　she　called　Arcadio；　and　Amaranta　brother　and　sister；　Aureliano　uncle；　and　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　grandpa。　So　that　she　finally　deserved；　as　much　as　the　others；　the　name　of　Rebeca　Buendía；　the　only　one　that　she　ever　had　and　that　she　bore　with　dignity　until　her　death。
　　　One　night　about　the　time　that　Rebeca　was　cured　of　the　vice　of　eating　earth　and　was　brought　to　sleep　in　the　other　children’s　room；　the　Indian　woman；　who　slept　with　them　awoke　by　chance　and　heard　a　strange；　intermittent　sound　in　the　corner。　She　got　up　in　alarm；　thinking　that　an　animal　had　e　into　the　room；　and　then　she　saw　Rebeca　in　the　rocker；　sucking　her　finger　and　with　her　eyes　lighted　up　in　the　darkness　like　those　of　a　cat。　Terrified；　exhausted　by　her　fate；　Visitación　recognized　in　those　eyes　the　symptoms　of　the　sickness　whose　threat　had　obliged　her　and　her　brother　to　exile　themselves　forever　from　an　age…old　kingdom　where　they　had　been　prince　and　princess。　It　was　the　insomnia　plague。
　　　Cataure；　the　Indian；　was　gone　from　the　house　by　morning。　His　sister　stayed　because　her　fatalistic　heart　told　her　that　the　lethal　sickness　would　follow　her；　no　matter　what；　to　the　farthest　corner　of　the　earth。　No　one　understood　Visitación’s　alarm。　“If　we　don’t　ever　sleep　again；　so　much　the　better；？Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　said　in　good　humor。　“That　way　we　can　get　more　out　of　life。？But　the　Indian　woman　explained　that　the　most　fearsome　part　of　the　sickness　of　insomnia　was　not　the　impossibility　of　sleeping；　for　the　body　did　not　feel　any　fatigue　at　all；　but　its　inexorable　evolution　toward　a　more　critical　manifestation：　a　loss　of　memory。　She　meant　that　when　the　sick　person　became　used　to　his　state　of　vigil；　the　recollection　of　his　childhood　began　to　be　erased　from　his　memory；　then　the　name　and　notion　of　things；　and　finally　the　identity　of　people　and　even　the　awareness　of　his　own　being；　until　he　sank　into　a　kind　of　idiocy　that　had　no　past。　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía；　dying　with　laughter；　thought　that　it　was　just　a　question　of　one　of　the　many　illnesses　invented　by　the　Indians？superstitions。　But　？rsula；　just　to　be　safe；　took　the　precaution　of　isolating　Rebeca　from　the　other　children。
　　　After　several　weeks；　when　Visitación’s　terror　seemed　to　have　died　down；　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　found　himself　rolling　over　in　bed；　unable　to　fall　asleep。　？rsula；　who　had　also　awakened；　asked　him　what　was　wrong；　and　he　answered：　“I’m　thinking　about　Prudencio　Aguilar　again。？They　did　not　sleep　a　minute；　but　the　following　day　they　felt　so　rested　that　they　forgot　about　the　bad　night。　Aureliano　mented　with　surprise　at　lunchtime　that　he　felt　very　well　in　spite　of　the　fact　that　he　had　spent　the　whole　night　in　the　laboratory　gilding　a　brooch　that　he　planned　to　give　to　？rsula　for　her　birthday。　They　did　not　bee　alarmed　until　the　third　day；　when　no　one　felt　sleepy　at　bedtime　and　they　realized　that　they　had　gone　more　than　fifty　hours　without　sleeping。
　　　“The　children　are　awake　too；？the　Indian　said　with　her　fatalistic　conviction。　“Once　it　gets　into　a　house　no　one　can　escape　the　plague。？
　　　They　had　indeed　contracted　the　illness　of　insomnia。　？rsula；　who　had　learned　from　her　mother　the　medicinal　value　of　plants；　prepared　and　made　them　all　drink　a　brew　of　monkshood；　but　they　could　not　get　to　sleep　and　spent　the　whole　day　dreaming　on　their　feet。　In　that　state　of　hallucinated　lucidity；　not　only　did　they　see　the　images　of　their　own　dreams；　but　some　saw　the　images　dreamed　by　others。　It　was　as　if　the　house　were　full　of　visitors。　Sitting　in　her　rocker　in　a　corner　of　the　kitchen；　Rebeca　dreamed　that　a　man　who　looked　very　much　like　her；　dressed　in　white　linen　and　with　his　shirt　collar　closed　by　a　gold　button；　was　bringing　her　a　bouquet　of　roses。　He　was　acpanied　by　a　woman　with　delicate　hands　who　took　out　one　rose　and　put　it　in　the　child’s　hair。　？rsula　understood　that　the　man　and　woman　were　Rebeca’s　parents；　but　even　though　she　made　a　great　effort　to　recognize　them；　she　confirmed　her　certainty　that　she　had　never　seen　them。　In　the　meantime；　through　an　oversight　that　Jos？Arcadio　Buendía　never　forgave　him