The fourth wall Abelardo
Castillo
If suddenly that wall disappears could see the woman, and to hear the first of seven bells that at any moment will the pendulum clock, and would gradually coming to us a faint smell of lilacs before becoming familiar and disappear completely, it may be almost incomprehensible. Not because there is no room in the lilacs, but just because they exist. Nor is it clear although the presence of women. Or never came before in that room (but where are the lilacs), or someone, a man, has ordered every detail as he organizes a game parts, disregarding others understand it or not. The clock strikes the first stroke. The furniture is heavy and dark convent, the walls, gray stone. No color is more than a great reproduction of Van Gogh ear cut off. There are also two other films, of Beardsley, the severity of the furniture gives these pictures an ambiguous malignancy that becomes almost obscene. The woman is very beautiful. Has perhaps thirty years. He has been motionless next to the telephone stand and now slow, circular strokes the auction arm of the chair, her little round head. Everything in woman is as content, unless that hand gently around the wood. The clock strikes the fourth stroke. The woman's hands are long, remarkably long and thin, giving the impression of complete communicate with the outside, as if the whole strength of his feelings had been focused on them. Even still, would be unnerving. That woman understand things from the moment you touch them. Rises. It seems restless, annoyed. Something expected, planned and calculated, it takes no reason. Take a book. Pass the tip of a finger over the ridge and nail sinks slowly through the leaves. He leaves. Look at the phone. Now look at the clock still has not turned off the sound of the last stroke of seven. Still no smell of lilacs. Suddenly, the phone rings. The woman was shocked, now smiling with a kind of relief. He has a mischievous air, triumphant. Well, whispers, good.
"Looks like we decided to call, finally.
not attend. Is accompanied by the ringing with head movements.
"Gee, today you will get a hundred. A thousand. Let to watch ... seven o'clock. "Where were the
"Looks like we decided to call, finally.
not attend. Is accompanied by the ringing with head movements.
"Gee, today you will get a hundred. A thousand. Let to watch ... seven o'clock. "Where were the
later, when I called?"-The question and the tone are striking: he parodied the voice of a man. At home, and I can prove it, it was seven o'clock. "I said into the phone, and phone, as if accepting an irrefutable argument has stopped ringing. It's annoying, it's as if she had been talking to a live object. The phone rings again. "No, wrong frame. This is the house of your little wife, your house, home of the Great Mogul, just your little wife suddenly comes up with a game does not help you.
has gone into the bedroom and back. Dice something that can be heard. Talk to a paradoxical naturally, not as a woman who is single, is difficult to explain how.
"Then will apologize and will swear to behave like a good guy. And for a while is going to carry as a good guy. But first you need to be afraid, you become ... docile, because today the Lord has done a great filth. And that's going to cost you blood, my angel, "is seated, cross your legs and lights a cigarette. It has very beautiful legs. The telephone does not ring. Sometimes I think that one day you'll end up spoiling everything ... Since childhood. Your sister tells with pride. Marcela: she admires you, see? She'll still admira.Y within a minute to call you, you probably already are calling the "sharply has crushed the cigarette in the ashtray medium smoke. Stands. Now he shrugs it seems fun again. I think if you married me because I look like your sister. No, if it is very probable, these monstrosities are well within your style. Poe and Virginia, the madman and the angel, Hamlet and Ophelia. The rape or incest, but never anything normal, nothing vulgar, nothing ever storey ... That is outrageous, your pension fatal air Hell, faun crazy girls full of ribbons, which disturbs the closeness of sin. And yet it is pure, there's the Big Secret. Once you said he would be the nostalgic memory of countless grandmothers, impossible love when they were teenagers. Too bad we're getting older, love, soon we will have to start remembering us. "It's next to the vase of lilies, gently buries face in them. Cut a flower. Has placed in the hollow of his hand. He looks for a moment. "Things should die in the splendor of her beauty, her youth. Otherwise, age.
The phone rings again. The woman next to the window. The phone has rung only thrice. The woman in front of the glass window ajar, although it is difficult to know if you look at it. Gently rising the left hand, as if to touch your face, but merely drop the little flower. Impossible not to look at their hands when moving.
- The talented young faun! And we must recognize that the character will feel like a charm. Relatively, there are times when you still feel. Only, for how long. One day you'll surprise yourself in the mirror making faces, or worse: they will surprise you. Dolphins. Them if they're afraid. The dolphins really young that one day may not admire more the man of talent and leave it alone, could one day steal all the ribbons girls, sleep with them, and let the memory of a laurel wreath withered on your beautiful face. And a splendid pair of horns.
phone rings. She visibly startled. It seems humbled by the involuntary shudder.
"Oh, we're not convinced, or perhaps you imagine that I will attend. Yes? But no, I will not attend. I'm here, close to the phone, not-going-to-serve. Then yes, but not now. Then, when your imagination invent fantasies rotten more massive, and be afraid, and let me live in peace! "I said into the phone, almost in a scream. The phone stops ringing. The woman looks surprised, as if he had noticed a secret connection between their words and the sudden silence. Now she laughs. Her laugh is so much younger than her, gives the impression of not belonging. It's funny, things, objects. As if something lively, living, in things. Or in your stuff. Some of it stays on, attached to things. Something worse than a ghost. You can almost touch. "He made a gesture as cold, as if not to keep thinking about this. It is visible that strives to play down their ideas. -Marc, yes, "and is also visible now necessary to speak aloud, this woman is secretly terrified, not knowing it is safe. Anyway, it amused again. Surely you are calling. "Are you there my wife ?"... "No, Andrés, "says another voice now, a little voice tender and child farcical. "No, dear, is not here, but what's wrong, something wrong? There will be returned to discuss "... And she'll say fine words Ondina, soothing words of inimitable woman overboard still in windows on rainy days ... Discuss! Call it so if you think that's the worst thing that can happen in the world. However, one thing remains unchanged in her custody for fifteen years. That's what makes it unbearable. And so is calling it now. I, however, I grew up: I can jurártelo, has said dryly, looking this time in the glass the window, but did not refer to age: not given that impression at all. And I think if she saw something the other day. What was ... "You give too much confidence in this guy a student of Andres", it said ... Well, it's a favorite of my husband, Marc. Furthermore, it reminds me a bit as it was before. A dolphin. Playing a dangerous game said it seems that Andrew did not know him ... Uh, if I know! Boy, you know, baby, better than me. Fifteen years ago you know.
- The talented young faun! And we must recognize that the character will feel like a charm. Relatively, there are times when you still feel. Only, for how long. One day you'll surprise yourself in the mirror making faces, or worse: they will surprise you. Dolphins. Them if they're afraid. The dolphins really young that one day may not admire more the man of talent and leave it alone, could one day steal all the ribbons girls, sleep with them, and let the memory of a laurel wreath withered on your beautiful face. And a splendid pair of horns.
phone rings. She visibly startled. It seems humbled by the involuntary shudder.
"Oh, we're not convinced, or perhaps you imagine that I will attend. Yes? But no, I will not attend. I'm here, close to the phone, not-going-to-serve. Then yes, but not now. Then, when your imagination invent fantasies rotten more massive, and be afraid, and let me live in peace! "I said into the phone, almost in a scream. The phone stops ringing. The woman looks surprised, as if he had noticed a secret connection between their words and the sudden silence. Now she laughs. Her laugh is so much younger than her, gives the impression of not belonging. It's funny, things, objects. As if something lively, living, in things. Or in your stuff. Some of it stays on, attached to things. Something worse than a ghost. You can almost touch. "He made a gesture as cold, as if not to keep thinking about this. It is visible that strives to play down their ideas. -Marc, yes, "and is also visible now necessary to speak aloud, this woman is secretly terrified, not knowing it is safe. Anyway, it amused again. Surely you are calling. "Are you there my wife ?"... "No, Andrés, "says another voice now, a little voice tender and child farcical. "No, dear, is not here, but what's wrong, something wrong? There will be returned to discuss "... And she'll say fine words Ondina, soothing words of inimitable woman overboard still in windows on rainy days ... Discuss! Call it so if you think that's the worst thing that can happen in the world. However, one thing remains unchanged in her custody for fifteen years. That's what makes it unbearable. And so is calling it now. I, however, I grew up: I can jurártelo, has said dryly, looking this time in the glass the window, but did not refer to age: not given that impression at all. And I think if she saw something the other day. What was ... "You give too much confidence in this guy a student of Andres", it said ... Well, it's a favorite of my husband, Marc. Furthermore, it reminds me a bit as it was before. A dolphin. Playing a dangerous game said it seems that Andrew did not know him ... Uh, if I know! Boy, you know, baby, better than me. Fifteen years ago you know.
has made a bow. Play. Has opened up her skirt like a fan. "Andrés Córdoba? He murmurs. "Nice." Tends his hand slowly. Suddenly he has operated on the woman a real change: no longer play. See something, and is amazed by what he sees. His gestures are alien to it, occur in an ambiguous zone where they mix the most authentic and lost innocence. There is a madness in all this ground.
"Sure ... Although I do very badly, has spread his arms: he accepts that to dance. Slowly turning on itself. One fears that this time it sounds the phone. I do not know, "he says, is so hard to explain. I never thought that one day ... The people, the newspapers speak of a person, say Andrés Córdoba, and can not imagine very well that ... As a child, for example, Dad took me a Recova late for, and there were the Cabildo and the Cathedral. Were the same that appeared in the films drawn from books, and yet there they were, with high barred windows, with its yellow walls. Existed.
"Sure ... Although I do very badly, has spread his arms: he accepts that to dance. Slowly turning on itself. One fears that this time it sounds the phone. I do not know, "he says, is so hard to explain. I never thought that one day ... The people, the newspapers speak of a person, say Andrés Córdoba, and can not imagine very well that ... As a child, for example, Dad took me a Recova late for, and there were the Cabildo and the Cathedral. Were the same that appeared in the films drawn from books, and yet there they were, with high barred windows, with its yellow walls. Existed.
The woman is being held in the center of the room. She no longer dances. For a few seconds just turns his head, throwing it back with a sleepwalker and uncontrolled movement. Now look here, as if just noticing something. "You laugh," he says very quietly. The boyish smile disappears from his face. With visible effort takes a step back. As if someone were to deviate wildly. "I will end up ...", he said. He was about to say go crazy. It builds on the door to the hallway. The phone starts to call. She does not pay attention, you may not hear it.
"Until I learned to despise. Bear it at first: that was the price. Long mourn inconsolably. And I hated everything, holy God, everything. Your jealousy, your little quirks, your ridiculous hobbies superior man. Until I learned to despise.
"Until I learned to despise. Bear it at first: that was the price. Long mourn inconsolably. And I hated everything, holy God, everything. Your jealousy, your little quirks, your ridiculous hobbies superior man. Until I learned to despise.
That was the key. You can not imagine, my angel, to what extent you can get to despise a man, the woman has separated from the door, slowly seems to recover his poise, his tone between funny and mischievous. The phone no longer rings. By dint of seeing it in half. And not just in half, brushing teeth, yawning, or cold. You should never have before me catch cold. Men like you should hide your little cliches ... I've been sleeping, you understand that? I've been sleeping! ... Mr sometimes sleeps with his mouth open, like the dead, and he runs a trickle of saliva around here, like suckers. Come and see, gentlemen, come see! In a few moments, Andrew Cordova, the Emperor of China, will jump out of bed in his underwear and make tremendous as usual some gymnastics ... One-two. One-two. Arriba!, Below! Oh, your legs are so absurd, laugh, but he has said almost tenderly, now lifting a finger. "Juan Lanas, the boy from the corner, it's absolutely equal to the Emperor of China, the two are the same animal" ... They know your Ooobra: I know your legs. One-two. Up, down.
She has not stopped laughing as he spoke. Her laugh is really funny. In it, however, in laughter, something disturbing. It is now very serious.
And everything else. Everything that makes you sloppy and clumsy, a lustful creature, without pride. And your filthy suspicions. Filthy, yes. Because at first, before they were unclean.
She has suddenly become the door to the hallway, where something or someone, just make noise. It has been hand to mouth. The word before is like floating in the air. "Who's there," he whispers, and screams almost immediately. Motionless, listening. The phone calls again. She heard it, has been relaxed.
"Jesus, yet I've lost respect. I you have the nerves to pieces, that's what happens ... Respect! No. I do not respect you. No-te-respect. I just imagine, Raskolnikov, there in your phone, disheveled as befits a sensitive man, with eyes of chaos and catastrophe, thinking "I'll kill her!" "The telephone does not ring, she sits and watches the clock .- Yes, certainly at this time still think about killing myself. Then no. Then he will say something in the style of "Sorry, Adelaide, I'm a scoundrel." But first we need to be afraid, I imagine my heaven knows how, and be afraid, and need to come. Unclean. Today we did the most beautiful of your beautiful junk. I should have imagined, I shook hands touch me. And I started to feel helpless. It was one of your precious moments. Then, stroking, very quietly told me sweetly, bitch. Should not be telling the truth that way. You scared me, you know, I thought ... Fortunately, no. Fortunately it was one of your fits great. "I someday betray you. "My flesh perverse What you were always overly literary, my God, and evil is that until it lovely to hear you say things like that. And you swear that you also like to hear. So I started to despise. You can become a bit shocking. Never wrong, too. Even today. And that is also shocking. On the other hand, you made a delicate error ... For a moment, standing next to Van Gogh self-portrait, with a finger is touching the nose .- Teach you were not the only man in the world. Both speak of them, well, I started to notice. And not entirely unpleasant, do you want to believe? The key is to not get to know a lot, and it is even better not to know at all. When you start to get family, farewell, my lovely, do not be sad.
The phone calls again.
"You know, dear lizard. If you attend now you'd be able to throw it all away. You always had the power to ruin everything. The fear of spoiling things: that is precisely what breaks them. Devil conjures one has said confidentially, to the phone, the phone stops ringing. Since childhood. Marcela tells. For months, asked a toy, it was expensive for sure. It was the best, surely. You see it every day when returning from school. Cried. When you finally bought it, also cried. "I will break. Someday I will break. "It was the only thing that happened to you. And the next day you did it yourself pieces ... 'd Let me alone with your friends, pork. To spy. Or maybe not even that: to imagine and suffer in silence and torment you. It was impossible to bear. Adivinarte worse than if you were behind a door or the ear to the wall; adivinarte imagining my actions and my words my children getting dirty gestures and words. One can not lie with another man in such conditions. That is within your folly, and throws it all away. Does not work. Your dolphins, however. The first was one of your boys. I admired so much, poor angel. Sent him home on any pretext. A guardian angel with her eyes clear and his face to go missing. "You are so beautiful," he said. And then: "Sorry, ma'am. So fragile, so helpless. You do not know how important it is that, to have something, someone to protect trembling like a bird. You had too much confidence in your dolphin that was even more insulting than your jealousy. Confidence in you. You saw his face afterwards, and that of all others, you could see his eyes forlorn. Fool you, wonderful man. Acostars
and women with admirable man, they, in itself admirable man's bed ... One was not decided, was the only ... No never again ... So like you.
phone rings. "Yes," murmured the woman, "yes." Have sat down and spoke in a voice suddenly spent. Reach out to the phone, with a gesture almost physical pain, and leaves it there without lifting the tube.
"Now, next time, love. And address and I'll hear your voice off, nice guy, you regret a little solemn, and I have to say beautiful words of consolation and forgiveness. And all for a minute, will be beautiful.
And everything else. Everything that makes you sloppy and clumsy, a lustful creature, without pride. And your filthy suspicions. Filthy, yes. Because at first, before they were unclean.
She has suddenly become the door to the hallway, where something or someone, just make noise. It has been hand to mouth. The word before is like floating in the air. "Who's there," he whispers, and screams almost immediately. Motionless, listening. The phone calls again. She heard it, has been relaxed.
"Jesus, yet I've lost respect. I you have the nerves to pieces, that's what happens ... Respect! No. I do not respect you. No-te-respect. I just imagine, Raskolnikov, there in your phone, disheveled as befits a sensitive man, with eyes of chaos and catastrophe, thinking "I'll kill her!" "The telephone does not ring, she sits and watches the clock .- Yes, certainly at this time still think about killing myself. Then no. Then he will say something in the style of "Sorry, Adelaide, I'm a scoundrel." But first we need to be afraid, I imagine my heaven knows how, and be afraid, and need to come. Unclean. Today we did the most beautiful of your beautiful junk. I should have imagined, I shook hands touch me. And I started to feel helpless. It was one of your precious moments. Then, stroking, very quietly told me sweetly, bitch. Should not be telling the truth that way. You scared me, you know, I thought ... Fortunately, no. Fortunately it was one of your fits great. "I someday betray you. "My flesh perverse What you were always overly literary, my God, and evil is that until it lovely to hear you say things like that. And you swear that you also like to hear. So I started to despise. You can become a bit shocking. Never wrong, too. Even today. And that is also shocking. On the other hand, you made a delicate error ... For a moment, standing next to Van Gogh self-portrait, with a finger is touching the nose .- Teach you were not the only man in the world. Both speak of them, well, I started to notice. And not entirely unpleasant, do you want to believe? The key is to not get to know a lot, and it is even better not to know at all. When you start to get family, farewell, my lovely, do not be sad.
The phone calls again.
"You know, dear lizard. If you attend now you'd be able to throw it all away. You always had the power to ruin everything. The fear of spoiling things: that is precisely what breaks them. Devil conjures one has said confidentially, to the phone, the phone stops ringing. Since childhood. Marcela tells. For months, asked a toy, it was expensive for sure. It was the best, surely. You see it every day when returning from school. Cried. When you finally bought it, also cried. "I will break. Someday I will break. "It was the only thing that happened to you. And the next day you did it yourself pieces ... 'd Let me alone with your friends, pork. To spy. Or maybe not even that: to imagine and suffer in silence and torment you. It was impossible to bear. Adivinarte worse than if you were behind a door or the ear to the wall; adivinarte imagining my actions and my words my children getting dirty gestures and words. One can not lie with another man in such conditions. That is within your folly, and throws it all away. Does not work. Your dolphins, however. The first was one of your boys. I admired so much, poor angel. Sent him home on any pretext. A guardian angel with her eyes clear and his face to go missing. "You are so beautiful," he said. And then: "Sorry, ma'am. So fragile, so helpless. You do not know how important it is that, to have something, someone to protect trembling like a bird. You had too much confidence in your dolphin that was even more insulting than your jealousy. Confidence in you. You saw his face afterwards, and that of all others, you could see his eyes forlorn. Fool you, wonderful man. Acostars
and women with admirable man, they, in itself admirable man's bed ... One was not decided, was the only ... No never again ... So like you.
phone rings. "Yes," murmured the woman, "yes." Have sat down and spoke in a voice suddenly spent. Reach out to the phone, with a gesture almost physical pain, and leaves it there without lifting the tube.
"Now, next time, love. And address and I'll hear your voice off, nice guy, you regret a little solemn, and I have to say beautiful words of consolation and forgiveness. And all for a minute, will be beautiful.
The telephone does not ring. The woman, and nothing has been waiting for that gesture, suddenly has her hands to her face and strange sounds and monotonous: a kind of soft moan animal, halfway between laughter and tears. When hands down, however, his face has not changed at all expression. The phone rings again. She attends. He has not said "hello" in a dull voice immediately has spoken a few words that were not able to be heard. Suddenly it is silent. Has stood back, as if an icy hand had touched the surprise.
-O, Marcela, forgive me, "he says. I thought ... No, Andrew is not home ... What are you saying? The woman looks at his watch with a look of bewilderment and suspicion. From what time are you calling?
has never looked mechanically the clock. He has a deadpan air of crazy. Stands. With the tube in hand, slowly turns his head toward the door where a while ago, seemed to hear a sound. The handle has begun to turn.
As the door opens slowly, disappearing the heavy furniture, tables, vase of lilies and the beautiful woman with long hands. What remains, then later, a wall that the dim light of dusk has turned almost purple. Still achieved to hear, but so dull and remote as the ghost of a stroke, the stroke of half past seven. End
-O, Marcela, forgive me, "he says. I thought ... No, Andrew is not home ... What are you saying? The woman looks at his watch with a look of bewilderment and suspicion. From what time are you calling?
has never looked mechanically the clock. He has a deadpan air of crazy. Stands. With the tube in hand, slowly turns his head toward the door where a while ago, seemed to hear a sound. The handle has begun to turn.
As the door opens slowly, disappearing the heavy furniture, tables, vase of lilies and the beautiful woman with long hands. What remains, then later, a wall that the dim light of dusk has turned almost purple. Still achieved to hear, but so dull and remote as the ghost of a stroke, the stroke of half past seven. End
When 
