Laura Restrepo - Delirium

I KNEW SOMETHING irreparable had happened the moment a man opened the door to that hotel room and I saw my wife sitting at the far end of the room, looking out the window in the strangest way. Id just returned from a short trip, four days away on business, and I swear that Agustina was fine when I left, I swear nothing odd was going on, or at least nothing out of the ordinary, certainly nothing to suggest what would happen to her while I was gone, except for her own premonitions, of course, but how was I to believe her when Agustina is always predicting some catastrophe; Ive tried everything to make her see reason, but she wont be swayed, insisting that ever since she was little shes had what she calls the gift of sight, or the ability to see the future, and God only knows the trouble thats caused us.

This time, as usual, my Agustina predicted that something would go wrong, and once again, I ignored her prediction; I went away on a Wednesday, leaving her painting the apartment walls green, and on Sunday, when I returned, I found her in a hotel in the north of the city, transformed into someone terrified and terrifying, a being I barely recognized. I havent been able to find out what happened to her while I was gone because when I ask she turns on me, its incredible how fierce she can be when shes upset, she treats me as if Im not me and shes not who she used to be, or at least thats how I try to explain it, and if I cant its because I dont understand it myself. The woman I love is lost inside her own head and for fourteen days now Ive been searching for her, wearing myself out trying to find her, but its excruciating and impossibly difficult; its as if Agustina were living on a plane parallel to reality, close but just out of reach, as if she were speaking a strange language that I vaguely recognize but cant quite comprehend. My wifes unhinged mind is a dog snapping at me, but at the same time its barking is a call for help, a call to which Im unable to respond; Agustina is a hurt and starving dog who wants to go home but cant, and the next minute shes a stray dog who cant even remember it once had a home.

IM GOING TO TELL YOU this point-blank because you have the right to know it, Agustina sweetheart, and anyway what do I have to lose talking about it all, when Ive got nothing left anymore. Your husband is spinning in circles trying to find out what the hell happened to you and theres so much even you dont know, because listen, Agustina darling, all stories are like a big cake, with everybodys eyes on the piece theyre eating, and the only one who sees the whole thing is the baker. But before I start, let me tell you that Im happy to see you, despite everything Ive always been happy to see you, and the truth is that after what happened youre the only person I wanted to see. Will you believe me if I tell you that this disaster started with a simple bet? Its almost embarrassing to confess, Agustina doll, because you took it all so seriously and were hurt so badly by it, but it was the lowest kind of bet, a dirty joke if were going to call things by their true names, a prank that turned bloody.

We dubbed it Operation Lazarus, because the idea was to see whether we could breathe life back into Spider Salazars pecker, which had been dead between his legs since the accident at the Las Lomas Polo Club. Do you remember the scandal, Agustina darling? The truth is, it was a stupid, ordinary accident, although later people tried to make it seem more heroic by spreading the story that Spider fell off his horse during a match against a Chilean team, but the rough stuff actually came later, during a drunken free-for-all, because the match was in the morning and Spider had watched it from one of the bottom rows of the stands since hes too fat to make it up to the top, and I can tell you that the closest he got to the action was betting on the Chileans and against the locals. The Chileans won and then were treated to a typical Colombian lunch that they probably choked down out of politeness, who knows what folk dishes were foisted on them suckling pig, tamales, fritters, figs with caramel cream, or all of the above and then they went back to their hotel to digest it while at the club the revelry went on, everyone getting drunker by the minute. Rivers of whiskey flowed, it got dark, and the only people left were the local polo players and the club regulars when Spider and his pals decided to saddle up, and Im guessing, or actually I know, that when the happy pack rode into the night they were all as drunk as cossacks, a gang of juiced-up clowns; I dont know whether your brother Joaco was with them, Agustina doll, though probably he was, because Joaco never misses the chance for a spree.

They mounted the horses, which are high-strung to begin with and dont appreciate overweight brutes squashing their kidneys and making them gallop in the dark along muddy paths, followed by a procession of Toyota 4x4s full of bodyguards, you know how it is, angel, because you come from that world and escaped it only when youd had all you could stomach, but does the aftertaste ever go away? no, sweetheart, the taste of shit lingers in your mouth no matter how many times you gargle with Listerine. Every fat cat from Las Lomas Polo is shadowed wherever he goes by five or six escorts, and Spider Salazar is even worse; ever since he struck it rich hes had himself protected by a troop of thugs trained in Israel, and that night Spider, who hadnt been on a horse for months because he was clogged with cholesterol and had to content himself with watching from the stands, that night Spider, who was completely plastered, ordered them to bring him the most spirited horse, a big, imperious bay called Parsley, and if I say called, Agustina princess, its because no one calls it anything anymore, since in the darkness, the mud, and the commotion, Parsley lost his temper and threw Spider, slamming him against a rock, and then some genius of a bodyguard, a guy they call the Sucker, had the brilliant idea of teaching the horse a lesson by blasting it with his machine gun, leaving it riddled like a sieve with its hooves pointing up at the moon, the most pathetic little scene imaginable. In a single burst the idiot pissed away the two hundred and fifty grand Parsley was worth, because thats life, Agustina sweetheart, fortunes go down the drain in a single binge and nobody bats an eye.

THE GIRL AGUSTINA hugs another, smaller child tight; its her brother Bichi, who has a head full of dark curls, a Christ Child, the kind artists paint with black hair instead of golden. Its the last time, Bichito, Agustina promises him, my father will never hit you again because Im going to stop him, dont hold your arm like that, like a chicken with a broken wing, come here, Bichi, little brother, you have to forgive my fathers bad hands because his heart is good, you have to forgive him, Bichi, and not stare at him like that because if you do hell go away and itll be your fault, does your arm still hurt? come here, its all right, if you stop crying your sister, Agustina, will summon you to the great ceremony of her powers, and well do what we always do, shell get the pictures from their hiding place and Bichi will spread the black cloth on the bed, you and me preparing for the service that will make my eyes see, Agustina calls up the great Power that lets her know when her father is going to hurt her brother, youre the Bichi I loved so much, Agustina repeats over and over again, the Bichi I love so very very much, my darling little brother, the beautiful boy who abandoned me a lifetime ago and is lost to me now.