I let the girl know, said Marcos. There’s café con leche in that thermos.
What did she say? I said.
Nothing, said Marquitos. I asked if she needed anything, and she said no, that she was fine.
She always says she’s fine, I said.
Yes, he said. She seems to be one of those people.
Then I told him to stop bringing food, that the chicken would be more than enough.
Don’t you want to shave, said Marquitos.
No, I said.
In any case, you won’t be offended if I come back this afternoon to see how things are going, right? said Marquitos.
Absolutely, I said. Speaking of which, if you come back, could you bring me two or three comic books? El Tony, if possible. And, if you could, a notebook, or something like that, and a pencil.
Sure, said Marquitos. El Tony, right?
That’s right. El Tony, I said.
Then Marquitos left, and I went back to my cell. I poured myself two cups of café con leche and then I closed the thermos. Out of curiosity I opened the second package and saw that it was full of rolls. I wrapped them back up and left the package on the floor, next to the chicken. Then I sat down next to the door and looked out at the morning sun.
Well, the two circles had touched. While I was doubling my green rectangles, they were talking on the phone, were getting ready, were picking up their machine guns, were leaving the station, were getting in their cars, were approaching the club. They were getting out of their cars, going up the stairs, and entering the gaming hall. Just then I was standing up. I had just won the last hand to banco, the next-to-last, also to banco, there had been a push, and three hands to punto. I could trace the internal course of each sphere, backward, and see how they coincided, despite there being no connection between them. By the time they arrived, the raid had already happened. But it had already happened for them, not for us. I had won all the small bets, of ten, of twenty, of fifty thousand. But the biggest bet, the one that wiped it all away, I lost. That was the hand being played that night, and I bet blind against it. And I lost. For a moment, they pierced the surface of my circle, passed through like a strong wind, but that was enough for me to lose everything.
Marcos came at two with the comics, the notebook, and the pencil, and I told him not to come back. I read the comics, but I didn’t use the pencil or the notebook.
They let me go the next day, as it was getting dark, after I gave a statement to a judge’s secretary. The secretary knew me, and he said he was going to see if he could take care of things. He also said we were all human.
Some more than others, I said.
Probably, yes, said the secretary. When a guy doesn’t know how else to bust his neighbor’s balls, recommend police work. Don’t worry, counselor, everything here is done with the utmost discretion.
I asked him why discretion was necessary.
He looked at me, but didn’t say anything. I didn’t look away. When we left the station, the manager from the cabaret shook my hand and told me to come see him some night, for a drink. I told him I didn’t drink.
I found Delicia in the kitchen, with her notebook open. She had started drawing the letter A again. I told her I had been in prison, and that I hadn’t washed my face in three days. Then I went up to the bathroom, shaved, and took a shower. While I was shaving, I had a chance to look at myself in the mirror. Yes, I was much thinner, and my beard was going gray. But to myself I was always the same. Other people noticed the changes, after they happened. I was getting old, sure. It would happen again, completely, until I disappeared. Another guy looking for something solid would feel that sudden blackout and disappear when he’d only just glimpsed the possibility of finding his way to it. I could live thirty, forty, fifty more years. It made no difference. I had reached the point where it was clear that the territory I hoped to map out was utterly indecipherable. From the outside, I was passing like a meteor, casting off a green tail that was extinguished just as it was igniting. A blackout, and everything would be dark. Quick spark, then darkness. I stared at myself in the mirror. That’s me, I said. That’s me. Me.
Then I undressed and got in the shower. When I went back down, Delicia was making dinner. We were just sitting down when the doorbell rang. It was Marquitos. I told him to eat something and he started peeling an orange. He asked how I was doing.
Are you really that worried? I said.
Terribly, he said.
Okay. Don’t be, I said.
There’s something self-destructive in all this, Sergio, said Marcos. I’m honestly worried.
There’s no alcohol, I said. I can offer you coffee.
I’ll take it, said Marquitos.
We went to the study, where I had left the comics that Marquitos had brought to the station. I pushed them aside and sat down. Marquitos sat on a sofa.
There’s your blanket and the rest of your whatnots, I said.
After we drank the coffee, he said he wanted to take a drive. I went along. We got in the sky blue car, turned toward the city center, then onto San Martín, drove around the Plaza de Mayo, passing in front of the government buildings and the courthouse, and then turned back onto San Martín, this time to the north. We passed by the corridors of the arcade, and at the corner turned toward the bus station. The post office was ahead, all lit up. Then we took the harbor road, where the palms glowed in the light of the streetlamps, and we reached the suspension bridge. We stopped on the waterfront. We got out and leaned on the cement wall and looked out at the river.
It must be two years since I’ve been here, I said.
Sergio, said Marcos. You’re not even twenty blocks away.
It’s true, I said. But I haven’t come.
I realized he was staring at me.
There’s something — something heroic in this, said Marquitos.
Don’t mythologize, I said.
And something — something. ., said Marquitos.
Stupid, I said.
No. Not that, said Marquitos. Something—
Absurd, I said.
No, he said. Insane.
A swath of light shone on the river, dividing it. A yellowish, jagged band, with black water on both sides. But the water is never the same, Marquitos said when I showed it to him. Neither is the reflection, therefore.
It’s true, I said.
He took me back up the avenue. On 25 de Mayo we turned south, and on the round Banco Municipal clock, in roman numerals, I saw that it was twelve twenty-five. We turned on Primera Junta, passing in front of the building that housed the offices of the estate agency. The clock at the Casa Escassany showed twelve thirty when we passed. When we got to my door I got out and told Marquitos to wait a minute. I went to my desk, opened the second drawer, and took out three ten-thousand-peso bills. I took them to Marquitos and handed them through the window. He took them, saying that he didn’t need them. Then he said he missed Rey.
Chiche was always a thug, I said.
No, said Marcos. It’s something else.
He always needed forgiving for everything, I said.
Who doesn’t? said Marcos.
I wondered if that was an allusion to me. Then he turned on the engine and left. After I got in bed I remembered that I had seen a strip of light at the bottom of the door to the kitchen. I got dressed and went downstairs. When I opened the door I saw Delicia with five decks of cards on the table. Next to the decks there was a disorganized pile of cards, face up. Delicia was drawing them four at a time, in pairs, then she would turn over the first two and see the value.