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SIETE MINUTOS
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ISMAEL CAMACHO ARANGO

Translated and edited by Maria Camacho

SIETE MINUTOS
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Beginnings

The backyard looked dark with its muddy floor and shrubs growing by the wall, as the sun

careered through the sky in its journey towards infinity. Shifting on the mud by the edge of a

puddle, Homer played with his toys in the water. After enticing some ants with a sweet he had

put in a paper boat, he made it capsize in the mud, and their bodies floated under the sun.

“Hurrah,” he said.

Homer danced around the water, as a woman appeared at the door wearing a dressing gown

and with her hair tied in a bun. Avoiding the toys and other things on the floor, she stood by

the puddles Homer had made, little dots floating amidst the mud. She had battled the ants for a

long time, as after invading the kitchen, they had gone to the other rooms until the house had

been full of the insects. Shivering in the breeze blowing through the garden, mother pushed a

few strands of hair back.

“It’s time for lunch,” she said.

Those words brought Homer back to reality. He had to eat before conquering the world.

Mother waited as he put his cars on a ledge by the door.

“Wash your hands now,” she said.

Leaving a trail of mud on the floor, he washed himself in the sink, as footsteps echoed in the

corridor and father appeared at the door. Middle aged, plump and with a round face, he wore

an apron over his big stomach while fiddling with his hands.

“I have a surprise,” he said.

Mother stopped with a plate in her hands, smoke rising to the ceiling like a staircase to

heaven. Father didn’t bring surprises very often, apart from a day when he had found a puppy

in the street but she had taken it to the dog shelter in spite of Homer’s complaints. A small man

interrupted the silence, his glasses shining under the light of the electric bulb. Homer watched

the stranger waiting by the door as the clock ticked and silence filled everything.

“Uncle Hugh,” mother said. “We didn’t expect you today.”

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After disentangling herself from his arms, mother poured soup on another bowl as Uncle

Hugh sat by Homer’s side, before pushing his glasses up his nose. He talked of his adventure

in the sea, where he had been sick the whole time.

“You should have taken an alka seltzer,” mother said.

“Nothing works for me.”

Uncle Hugh had not enjoyed the fresh Caribbean sun amidst his bouts of sickness. Homer

imagined his uncle looking at the land in the horizon, full of trees and hope, while his stomach

hurt. Then the man put a large hand on his shoulders.

“I remember the day you rescued a dollar bill,” Uncle Hugh said.

“After flying to the branches of a tree, he put it in his wet nappy,” mother said.

Homer knew all the rest. A neighbour who happened to be hanging the washing at that

moment dropped her husband’s pants in the mud, and he left her for the barmaid living next

door. School children sang songs of glory as Father Ricardo praised the qualities of the child

during Sunday mass, and everyone loved him because he was a star. Then Uncle Hugh found a

black and white photograph in his bag.

“This is you,” he said. “I took this picture with my first camera.”

Homer saw a chubby baby without much hair and a toothless smile, sitting in a chair. The

man waited for the reaction to the memory of that moment in time when he had snapped reality

forever.

“I developed it in my studio,” Uncle Hugh said.

“I remember those times,” mother said.

Mother served lunch in his plate, while she spoke of Homer’s birth in the mist of time. Born

during a solar eclipse, he had cried for the first time with the retreating shadows, while doctors

and nurses looked at the sun from the hospital roof. An old nurse who didn’t have good eyes

had helped with the delivery, and Homer had been born after mother had pushed a few times.

Then the nurse had muttered those famous words.

“You have a girl,” she said.

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The sun had been absent during Homer’s birth as he hid behind the shadow of the moon.

Mother thought she had the daughter she always wanted while father sulked, and the nurse

delivered the placenta. She discovered her mistake a few moments later.

“He had lots of dark hair,” father said.

After wiping a tear, she looked at the pictures on the wall, where she held a baby in her

arms. Homer felt the luckiest boy in the world, as everybody loved him, even if the sun had left

him in darkness at the beginning of his life. Uncle Hugh fumbled in his pockets, where he

found a shiny cent with Simon Bolivar in one of its faces.

“Put it in your money box,” he said. “It will bring you good luck.”

“He’s a good boy,” mother said.

Homer admired the coin as the moment stretched into infinity, and the brown marks on the

wall turned into monsters, fighting amidst the buildings where the dollar reigned supreme.

Homer played with his cars as Uncle Hugh spoke of chasing film stars in their limousines in a

place called Broadway. He had seen Marilyn Monroe in the streets filled with the colours of

the morning or the grey curtains of the night, while showing her pants forever. Money filled

Homer’s mind when he ran his trucks through the mud on in that first day of his life, when he

had found out the mysteries of the world . At first Homer saw a shadow behind the tree, but

then he noticed a boy's dirty hair and freckles. He had a sense of déjà vu, while studying the

child behind the tree.

“Hello,” he said.

The boy remained quiet as time went past in this new reality where someone had invaded

Homer’s universe.

“I’m Jose,” the child said at last.

Homer studied the stranger with dirty shoes and stained shirt as he left muddy streaks across

his face, after wiping his nose.

“Would you like to play with my cars?” he asked.

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Kneeling down on the floor, Jose ran one of the trucks along the track of dirt leading to the

fence, before falling on the mud. After washing his hands in the water tap by the door, he

played with the cars again.

“I come from the jungle,” he said.

Those words broke the spell the child had brought to Homer’s world, even though he had

never seen him in his life.

“You’re a liar,” Homer said.

“I’m not,” Jose said.

They rolled amidst the mud, disturbing a few birds looking for worms in the mess, but as

Homer barked, the child stopped his attack.

“Are you a dog?” he asked.

Jose imitated him but Homer shook his head.

“You have to do like this,” he said.

As he pursed his lips, he howled aloud. Jose took a deep breath and barked as Homer

clapped his hands.

“Yes,” he said.

They barked while holding their cars and the dog next door howled. Then Homer’s mother

appeared at the door.

“That dog is too noisy,” she said. “I’ll complain to the owner.”

She didn’t notice Jose and Homer thought the child lived in another world he had yet to

discover. Mother took a look at the messy place and left to finish with her homework. Time

had disappeared as they went on playing, while the mud glowed under the sun like a sacred lake

lost in time. Homer thought he had been there all of his life, even before his birth under the

dark sun. Then Jose gestured at the stars that had appeared in the sky, as the sun set in the

horizon.

“They’re mine,” he said.

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Homer saw specks of light shimmering through the darkness while the child ran in circles

around the tree, chanting strange words and touching the bark.

“Two and two are seven,” he said.

Homer frowned. “No, it isn’t.”

“I say that whenever I feel worried.”

Shadows spread around them and more stars appeared in the sky, as Homer followed his

friend. After a few minutes of chanting and calling, they sat down in the ground.

“You must remember,” Jose said.

“What do I have to remember?”

“Your history.”

“I don’t understand,” Homer said.

Thinking Jose wanted to play another game, Homer ran around the tree shouting and barking

but the child had gone. As he looked for him all over the garden, he found a roll of papers on

the floor. They must have fallen out of Jose’s pocket as he ran away from the shadows of time.

Words in another language intermingled with drawings of the sun, looked back at him. He had

to keep them for Jose whenever he decided to visit him again.

Homer spent a boring evening, as his parents counted the money they had earned during the

day and Uncle Hugh told them about his life in the USA. After looking at the window, Homer

saw stars peeking behind the clouds, and the Milky Way had to be up there, where suns burned

amidst dust and gas like Jose had said. He listened to the sounds of the night while shadows

danced by the tree.

“Mum,” he said.

“Do you want to go to bed?” she asked.

“Don’t have bad dreams tonight,” Uncle Hugh said.

Homer rushed upstairs after wishing them goodnight. Once in his room, he emptied his bag

on the bed and counted all the pesos he had collected over the weeks, but his uncle’s coin was

the prettiest. Homer put it in his bag before he went to sleep.

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Uncle Hugh slept in the guest room, next to marks on the wall undergoing some kind of

transformation. Homer imagined his uncle fighting the spirits of the house when they slept that

night. He thought of the mysteries of his birth, while retreating into a world full of fantasy,

dreams and nightmares. Jose had to be real if he had played with his toy cars but he had to

remember something....
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Maria

Homer danced around the tree of life chanting to the stars, scaring the squirrels and stepping

on centipedes. Jose’s last words didn’t make any sense now or ever.

“Where are you?” he asked.

On imagining the child wrapped in his invisibility cloak,

Homer waited under the branches of the tree, as the breeze moved his hair and the birds looked

for worms in the grass. Jose had to be on the other side of the garden, where the bushes formed

a green mass of plants and hedges.

“Hi,” someone said.

An electric current ran through his body as the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a

blue dress that moulded itself onto her body had appeared by his side. At first Homer thought

he had imagined her, but then she smiled, showing perfect teeth beneath rosy lips.

“You’re real,” he said.

The girl’s laughter interrupted the silence of his world, while he played with his clothes.

Then she looked serious.

“I’m Miguel’s daughter,” she said.

The man helping in his parent’s shop had to be Miguel and this wonderful creature his

daughter. The sound of the dog next door barking interrupted his reverie.

“I don’t like dogs,” she said.

They ran back into the kitchen where a cluttered table stood by a sink

full of saucepans. On tidying away some of the chaos, he found the tricycle Uncle Hugh had

given him years before along with the toy cars. As she looked at the pictures in the albums,

Homer wanted to impress her.

“My parents came here in a big ship,” he said.

“They must be rich.”

“It had many floors, and windows.”

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He explained how they had bought the shop after borrowing money from Uncle Hugh. They

had to pay him back but the business had been slow during the last few months.

“Dad used to take me to see the seagulls chasing the ship.”

“Seagulls?”

“They catch flying fish.”

Maria saw a few pictures of seagulls Homer had in a magazine. Those birds brought to his

memory their trip, when father drank lots of herbal tea to cure his sea sickness.

“A child without a country,” he said.

“I don’t think it matters.”

Talking about his childhood wouldn’t stop his longing for that country he had never known.

That must have been the home Jose had mentioned around the tree in the backyard. As she ate

a biscuit, he saw crumbs falling between into the infinity of her breasts but he had to be strong.

“Your parents should sell coca,” she said.

“Coca?” he asked.

She nodded. “The Indians will travel long distances to buy it.”

Homer’s eyes rose from her breasts to her face. He wanted to keep her by his side forever,

even if he had to get whatever thing she wanted.

“Father buys coca from Coconucos in the central cordillera,” she said.

Homer had never heard of it. Rummaging in her bag, she put a few crushed leaves in his

hand.

“Put them in your mouth,” she said.

He wanted to kiss her lips, as he heard the story of the plant the Indians chewed on their

journey through the mountains. Homer imagined them queuing outside the shop, bringing the

spells of the jungle to the business. He followed her dark eyes, as she looked at the palms of

his hands, making his hairs stand on end.

“Your life will end with the sun,” she said.

“I don’t believe you.”

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She told him how her mother had taught her to read palms on quiet evenings, when her

brothers and sisters had gone to sleep. The sun had been important for someone born under its

influence.

How did you know that?” he asked.

She touched her nose. “The cards know everything.”

“It’s spooky,” he said.

As she studied the papers Jose had left on the floor, Homer looked at her profile under the

light of the sun coming through the window. He wanted to do anything for this beautiful girl

who had given him coca leaves.

“Jose was my invisible friend,” he said. “We went around the tree of life, chanting to the

stars and the universe.”

“It looks like Egyptian language,” she said.

Homer looked at the words made up of strange things. It had to be a magical language if

Jose had known it.

“Can you decipher them for me?” Homer asked.

“You can call me Maria.”

“Maria,” he said. “Will you help me to translate the papers?”

“I’m always busy.”

She lived in a small room with a cooker and a cubicle with a shower in the corner. With

only three beds, her father slept on the sofa and some of her brothers on the floor. Homer

listened to all the problems she had in her life.

“I have seen rats in the latrine,” she said.

“A latrine?”

“It’s a hole in the backyard.”

He had never heard of such a thing. They had to move over piles of rubbish strewn on the

floor to go to the latrine by the shed. Maria looked relaxed, in spite of her ordeal. As she
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talked, he noticed the crucifix moving between her breasts like a lost angel. Homer wanted to

eat her slowly, tasting every bit of her for eternity.

“Would you sleep with me tonight?” he asked.

“I’d have to marry you first.”

She wouldn’t accept the offer of his bed, even if she had to sleep with her family in a

cramped room.

“I’ll buy you a house when I’m a millionaire,” he said.

“You’ll forget about me.”

“I won’t,” he said.

“It says in your hands.”

Then mother appeared at the door, clutching a handkerchief.

“Your father is sick,” she said.

After running upstairs, Homer found father in bed, the room smelling of incense and herbs,

as tufts of hair stuck to his skin. Illness was a luxury father couldn’t afford when they needed

money to renovate the shop.

“He had a convulsion a few minutes ago,” mother said.

Father had gone to bed, complaining of pain in his arm that morning as Miguel had seen to

the customers in the shop. A bottle of aspirin lay on the bedside table, the best drug in the

world according to her, while the clock on the wall marked the passage of time. Homer found

it familiar, as if he had lived through it before in another dimension.

“Miguel has gone to call the doctor,” mother said.

Lost in their own thoughts, they waited in silence, darkness stretching up to infinity outside

the window. Mother held father’s hands, muttering a prayer and wishing for him to get better.

“Everything will be fine,” Maria said.

Then the room turned icy, incense filling everything as mother prayed to her God. Homer

didn’t feel any pulse in his father’s wrists. Everybody had to have a pulse or they would die.

He heard his own screams of pain as mother fainted.

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Darkness

Struggling against the darkness swallowing his soul, Homer remained by his father’s side,

hot tears running down his cheeks. Father had been alive a few minutes before. It had to be a

mistake.

“He is asleep,” he said.

Miguel organised everything during the next few hours when people came to the house and

Maria brought cups of tea. Heavily sedated, mother rested in bed, while Homer remained

aloof, pain washing over him.

After dressing father in his best clothes, the undertaker made him ready for that final trip in

this world. They buried father in a shallow grave by a tree at the back of the cemetery. Time

had gone past in a blur as the priest talked and people offered their condolences. Homer

reflected in his life since he had been a child, tears rolling down his cheeks. He had to find the

reason for his existence and for that journey their parents had made a long time ago in search of

paradise. He sat in his room after going back home, where Maria tried to bring him back to

reality.

“Life has to go on,” she said.

Homer had to awaken from the limbo he had fallen into since father’s death, as mother

buried herself in a room full of memories. One morning a few weeks after father’s death,

Homer found a large envelope with a nice stamp by the door. As he opened it, a cheque fell on

the table. Uncle Hugh had sent them money to board a ship on route to New York. Homer

danced around the kitchen, as Maria appeared at the door.

“I’m going to New York,” he said.

He showed her the letter inviting them to a city full of opportunities in spite of the recession.

Uncle Hugh’s Pictures showed the Statue of Liberty raising its torch to the sky, calling for them

to come to another world. On admiring the Empire State Building, Maria had to imagine all the

steps people had to climb to go up there.

“They have lifts,” Homer said.

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“Lifts?”

“They’re metal boxes inside the buildings.”

As Maria thought of all the wonders in the USA, Homer took the tray up to mother’s bed,

where he found her asleep.

“Breakfast is here,” he said.

Putting the tray on her lap, he helped her to sit up on the bed. She looked tired and drained

even if she had slept all day.

“Shall I call the doctor?” he asked.

Mother ate the scrambled egg, thin fingers cutting the bacon, before mixing it with the eggs.

As she sipped her cup of tea, Homer summoned enough courage to give her the news.

“Uncle Hugh has written to us,” he said.

Mother looked for the glasses on the bedside table before reading the letter with the nice

handwriting. Homer watched her reaction to uncle’s invitation while pouring more juice in her

glass. After putting the letter on the table, she sipped her tea. Father’s death had left her tired

of life.

“We won’t have another chance,” Homer said.

Mother buttered her bread while he tried to convince her of the benefits of New York on her

health and well being. A big city might offer more opportunities in their lives.

“New York is cold in winter,” she said.

“We’ll get a heater.”

After brushing the crumbs off the sheets, mother lay back on the bed trying to forget the

letter and Uncle Hugh. Homer had to fight against her stubbornness to get what he wanted.

“We have to talk about this,” he said.

Mother shut her eyes, pretending to be asleep but Homer wouldn’t give up. They had come

to South America in search of a better life and they could do it again. She looked at the

pictures Uncle Hugh had sent them, as he spoke of the doctors looking after her in New York.

“Nobody heals the soul,” she said.

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Pushing the pictures away, she covered herself with the blankets, while Homer waited by

her side. He had to convince her of the goodness of that other country, where he might earn

lots of money. Homer held mother’s hand, muttering silent prayers and wishing for her to

come back to reality. He didn’t believe in God but this was an urgent matter.

“I will be a millionaire,” he said.

“You are a dreamer.”

Miguel appeared at the door, accompanied by a plump priest, wearing a black habit in

contrast to his pale face. Three strands of dark hair adorned his head and his ears stuck out of

more tufts of hair. He put his bible on the table, as mother opened her eyes.

“Father Ricardo,” she said. “I’m sick.”

The priest sat by her side, hands searching for hers as thunder roared outside and drops of

rain battered the window. After crossing himself, he waited for the storm to die out, leaving

them in peace.

“In the name of the father, of the son and of the holy spirit,” father Ricardo said, sprinkling

holy water on mother’s face.

After anointing her forehead, he wished for her soul to be accepted in the kingdom of God,

because of the work Jesus Christ had started on earth, before ascending to heaven.

“She’s not dying,” Homer said.

He threw the container on the floor, where it shattered in many pieces all over the carpet.

Maria picked some of the glass with the dustpan and brush she had found in a corner.

“She is still alive,” Homer said.

The world remained in the grip of the storm, as the wind battered the tree against the wall.

Father Ricardo prayed, while shadows covered the world, and thunder exploded around them.

“Make it stop, father,” Maria said.

Homer though the sun had abandoned them to their fate once more, as Father Ricardo raised

his arms to the ceiling, a strand of hair falling on his face. The priest regained his composure,

after blowing his nose.

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“Uncle Hugh sent us a cheque to go to New York,” Homer said.

After putting his glasses on, Father Ricardo ran his eyes through the letter, stopping in a few

places he must have found interesting.

“New York is an evil place,” he said.

He talked of a city full of gangsters, where loose women wandered the streets, looking for

young boys like Homer. Evil awaited in every corner ready to lead him away from God’s path.

“We need money, father,” Homer said.

Thinking on the problem while Mother drank her tea, Father Ricardo noticed the bags

Miguel had left by the door that morning. On seeing his accusing eyes, Maria tried to explain

about the coca.

“The Indians have taken it for centuries,” she said.

Father Ricardo crossed himself, after looking at her with disdain. She might lead Homer

along the road of sin with her big breasts.

“I haven’t seen you in the church on Sundays,” he said.

“I’m always busy, father.”

Father Ricardo didn’t like people turning their backs on Jesus Christ for economic reasons.

Parents had to teach their children their religious duties even if they were young or their souls

might go to hell.

“If we don’t go to New York, I’ll sell merchandise in the slums” Homer said.

The priest hated Homer’s ideas. That young man would cause the end of the world one day.

“When will you do it?” he asked.

“I don’t know, father.”

Father Ricardo took another bottle of holy water out of his bag and sprinkled it around the

room, vanquishing all the demons forever. As mother coughed, he held her hand, his lips

whispering prayers.

“I’ll get the doctor,” Homer said.

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Father Ricardo didn’t need a doctor when he could treat mother with his faith. He gave her

the last rites against Homer’s wishes as the storm raged outside.
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New business

After a night full of pain, mother passed away in the morning. Father Ricardo had done

what he could with his prayers and the bible.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Wiping his tears, Homer saw the room disappearing amidst the clouds surrounding his soul.

His mother looked pale in the bed, her dark hair surrounding her head like a halo. She had to

be sleeping after the priest had given her the last rites to enter the kingdom of heaven. Maria

brought him a tablet and a glass of water to calm the river of tears leaving his eyes.

“You must be strong,” she said.

Holding his hands, she muttered a prayer to God, keeping his mother captive in another

place and time far away from his own. Homer didn’t notice the passage of time in his new

reality, where Miguel organised the funeral amidst the coca leaves. They had to be in a drawer

by the sink but his legs refused to obey him. The sound of a few people coming in the room

disturbed his concentration. A woman stood by his side holding a handkerchief to her nose.

“I can’t believe it,” she said. “I saw her alive a few days ago.”

Homer heard her talking about her mother’s qualities. She had been a saint all her life,

working hard in the shop and looking after her family. He remembered his childhood in a shop

filled with boxes of merchandise, where his parents had never made any money, even if they

worked hard for many years. Uncle Hugh had brought toys for the child from that country of

the north, full of rich people with big houses and swimming pools.

The biggest treat in Homer's infancy had been their outings to the fair to see the bearded

woman, the fattest man and the child that fit in a tiny box. He had tried doing that with the

boxes in the cellar, scratching his legs and making mother angry.

“The boy in the fair did it, mum,” he had said.

Those sunny days had taught him so many things. He had learned how to annoy the monkey

man by throwing paper balls at his cage while shooting the camel woman with his water pistol.

“I’ll miss your mother,” the woman by his side interrupted his reverie.
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“She was an angel,” Homer said.

He wiped his tears, while the woman hugged him, as Homer tried to keep his balance. The

tablet Maria had given him had driven him away from reality.

“We’ll take her to the cemetery now,” someone said.

Homer wondered why time had gone so fast, as the undertakers surrounded the coffin, and

the clock in the wall ticked in the saddest day of his life. Time doesn’t exist here, a voice said

in his mind but he dismissed it, as Maria appeared with a glass of water.

“You must have another tablet,” she said. “It will help you to relax.”

Putting the medicine in his tongue, he felt the acid taste, washed down with the water Maria

had brought him. Homer tried to get hold of reality as his mother lay dead in the coffin, and the

image of the monkey woman came back to his mind. His mother didn’t deserve to be locked

for eternity.

“Stop,” he said.

“What did you say?” a little man asked.

“Give him an aguardiente,” the woman said.

He drank the liquid they offered him in a small glass, even if he had the tablet from his pain

a few minutes before. Maria led him outside, where the undertaker put mother’s coffin in a

black car, reminding him of hell.

“You must sit next to the driver, Mr. Homer,” he said.

Maria helped him to get in the front sit, before climbing in the back. As the rest of the

people followed on foot, they took mother to the cemetery, where father waited amidst the

flowers and the rain. Mother had paid for her funeral with a life insurance she had purchased

before her death. Homer remembered her putting the money in the bank after doing her

shopping every month. The moving car brought him back to reality, dispelling some of the fog

in his mind. On arriving at the cemetery, Homer saw the mourners gathering by the chapel of

rest, as drops of rain fell on the earth, and the wind ruffled their hair. Father Ricardo appeared

by their side.
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“The world will miss her,” he said.

“I know,” Homer said.

Wiping his tears, Homer heard the man talking about his mother’s role in the world. She

had been a saint, following the right path during her life.

“The doctor couldn’t save her,” he said.

Homer shook his head. “He should have taken her to the hospital.”

“God didn’t want her to live.”

“She was all I had in the world,” Homer said.

Feeling the world crumbling away, nothing mattered anymore. As a dark land waited for

him at the end of time, Father Ricardo got ready to deliver his message of love amidst the rain

and the flowers.

“Dear people,” he said. “We have lost an angel of mercy on this earth.”

He spoke of salvation, while Homer found more coca leaves in his pockets. Brittle and

dried, they might help him to forget his ache. He listened to all the good things his mother had

done, and how she had suffered in the hands of life, before shutting her eyes forever. After

sprinkling holy water over the coffin, Father Ricardo muttered a few prayers to our lord.

“Ashes to ashes,” he said.

“Amen,” everyone said.

Homer remembered the day he had flown, the trees in the cemetery resembling the tree of

life in the backyard with its branches searching for the sky. Then drops of rain fell over the

world, making everything wet.

“The Devil wants to interrupt this service,” Father Ricardo said.

After opening his umbrella, he talked of the work mother had started in this world, helping

poor souls go to the kingdom of heaven.

“She gave me a sum of money every week for poor children begging in the streets,” he said.

Homer heard all the things his mother had done, as tears of frustration left his eyes, already

wet with the rain.

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“This woman devoted most of her existence to helping other human beings to live better

lives,” the priest said.

Homer imagined all the things they might have bought with the money his mother had spent

in charities. He chewed some more coca leaves, their bitter taste leaving his mouth dry as the

rain dampened his soul.

“She will be remembered by the poor and meek,” Father Ricardo said.

A long line of children appeared along the path singing a hymn. One of them threw a single

rose on the grave.

“She gave us everything we needed,” he said.

Homer didn’t feel very well as Maria squeezed his hand. Then he cried on her shoulders for

all the times he had wanted a toy or nice clothes while his mother gave everything to charity.

Father Ricardo kept on talking of mother’s good work in the kingdom of God.

“She left a life insurance for a widow’s charity,” he said.

A few women dressed in black praised mother’s work on this earth. Homer didn’t want to

hear anymore terrible things his mother had done and put more coca leaves in his mouth.

Shutting his bible, Father Ricardo talked to the women while stroking the children’s heads.

Homer cried for his own life without the guidance of his mother.

“She was a good woman,” Maria said.

“We didn’t have any money.”

“God will thank her,” she said.

“I hope so.”

Homer didn’t know when he might do that, while the crowd dispersed under the rain, and

the wind moved the branches of the trees.

“Let’s go,” Maria said.

They went back home through the same streets the funeral cortege had followed before,

where people went about their business and the shop looked sad under the rain. As they entered
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the building, Homer saw the empty space where the coffin had been that morning. Mother had

gone forever this time.

“I’ll make some coffee,” Maria said.

Homer had to start anew. His shop would be the best in town, even if mother had given her

money to charity.

“I’ll call my shop, El Baratillo,” he said.

“El Baratillo?”

Homer nodded. “Everything will be cheap.”

He would charge hundreds of pesos every week for someone to live in his house, while he

slept in the shop. As Maria put the kettle on, he went in the cellar, full of shadows and

cobwebs, his footsteps echoing in the lose boards. Maria appeared behind him, with a cloth in

her hands.

“I want to sleep here,” he said.

“You must be mad.”

“Mother’s love of charities was crazy,” he said.

He led her to the darkest part of the dark cellar, where moss grew on the walls and boxes of

merchandise rose up the walls. Disentangling herself from his arms, she left Homer alone in

that place full of grief. The darkness parted and he saw Jose’s face amongst the bags of coca,

while Homer saw another reality intruding into his world. A moon appeared behind the clouds

of a world in turmoil far away in space and time.

“Are you coming?” Maria’s voice disturbed the apparition, bringing him back to reality.

Muttering to himself, he had a last look at the cellar without a moon or anything else, before

making his way over the boxes of merchandise littering the place.

“You shouldn’t trick me like that,” Maria said.

“I didn’t trick you.”

23

Standing by the cellar door, Homer remembered that world he had just glimpsed for a

second beyond the walls of cobwebs. He had a good imagination but this time the darkness had

appeared real amidst the clouds of time.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Homer asked.

Maria frowned. “I have never seen anything.”

Having a last look at the cellar, Homer got ready to start anew after the tragedy, even if he

had glimpsed the extraordinary.

24

The visitor

El Baratillo became an institution: a neck tie that cost ten pesos, Homer sold for eight pesos

and the same with everything else. One day something happened that changed his life. It

started in a simple way like all the great things in the world. An Indian with high cheek bones,

a long black skirt and his hair in a pony tail had come in the shop. Standing by the dirty white

walls, he waited while Homer sold to the customers. Miguel had gone to sort out a

consignment of coca leaves and Maria had stayed at home, helping her mother tidy the house.

The Indian stood by a few boxes of merchandise that had arrived that morning, and Homer

thought the man had gone to sleep in the corner. As he summoned enough courage to get

closer, he saw his eyes flickering in the shadows.

“Can I help you?” Homer asked.

He didn’t want to accept the box the man offered him. It could be a bomb or something

equally sinister.

“I want you to go,” Homer said.

The Indian remained by the counter, his hands fiddling with the box he had in his hands.

Homer thought the policemen patrolling the market during the day would get rid of him.

Keeping his cool, he moved towards the shop door, hoping to find someone in the street to save

him from the maniac.

“I’ll call the police,” he said.

Then the man opened the bag he had in his hands. Expecting a big bang at any time, Homer

crouched behind some boxes of coca by the door. He expected the Indian to go in flames in

front of his eyes to please his gods or his people, as a small head surrounded by black hair

appeared out of the bag. With its eyes shut and sewn mouth, it looked like a midget’s head

from another land. Memories of the fair with all the malformed people in cages came back to

Homer’s mind, while, he studied the head with its yellow skin.

“Is it real?” he asked.

The Indian checked the bags of coca by his feet, while muttering to himself.
25

“Do you want them?” Homer asked.

“Mmm,” the man said.

Homer understood why the Indian had brought the head to his shop. The fame of his coca

leaves must have spread to the inhabitants of the jungle, amidst their trees and pumas. On

opening one of the boxes, he put a handful of coca by the man’s face. He watched the little

man, sniffing the contents of the bags with a lot of pleasure in his face.

“You must bring me more heads,” Homer said.

As the Indian chewed coca leaves, Homer thought he had discovered something never

imagined. Balboa must have felt like that as he set eyes on the Pacific Ocean or Columbus

when he shouted “Land” for the first time.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked.

Busy sniffing the coca leaves, the Indian didn’t pay attention to him. They had to be his

favourite thing. Homer marvelled at the similarity between the man and the small head while

boiling some water in the stove. Children should play with shrunken men instead of artificial

toys, he thought.

“No heads,” Homer said pointing at the bags. “No more coca.”

Rummaging in a wardrobe, he found a map of the country his father had kept amidst the

boxes. On opening it on the floor, the capital and big cities of the cordillera appeared next to

the jungle. Homer pointed to a dot lost in the greenery.

“This is Florence,” he said. “Where do you live?”

Avoiding the rubbish strewn around him, the Indian looked at the map, while Homer talked

of piranhas and giant snakes eating men alive.

“This is the Guaviare River,” he said.

“River,” the Indian said.

Then the man pointed at a place in the jungle, lost amidst the trees and other things.

“Is that your home?” Homer asked.

26

The Indian had to live at the end of the world. As Homer pretended to ride on a horse, the

man stopped his scrutiny of the paper.

“Do you go there by horse?” Homer asked.

He galloped around the room, repeating the word horse all the time, while jumping around

the boxes. The little man stared at him, his face not showing any emotions.

"I want to know where you live," Homer said.

Indifferent to the question, the Indian sniffed the coca leaves, the best thing for him in the

world. Homer showed him a few pictures he had found by the map, where women washed

their clothes by a river and a puma hid behind the trees.

“I still don’t know where you come from,” he said.

“Jungle,” the Indian said.

Homer nodded. “Can you understand me?”

The Indian didn’t care about anything in his life, as Homer pointed at the bags on the floor.

He had to communicate with sign language. After shutting his box, the Indian got ready to go

back home, wherever that was but Homer wanted more heads.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “When are you coming back?”

The Indian moved along the corridor, stopping by the door.

“Remember to bring me more heads,” Homer said.

Sropping by the door, the Indian looked at him in silence.

He watched the little man disappearing around the corner, taking the mysteries of the jungle

with him. Homer admired the head in the privacy of his room, feeling the rough skin of the

face and the black hair around it. He had to get more heads in the jungle. Homer found a

padded envelope in his desk, after scribbling a few things in a paper. He had to get the correct

number of stamps from the post office to send the letter across the sea.

On examining the head once more, Homer saw wrinkles around the eyes and little holes in

the cheeks. A simple head reduced to its smallest expression by the Indians might make him
27

the richest man on earth. As Maria appeared at the door, Homer put the head in the bag, hoping

she had not seen anything.

“You should buy a bed,” she said.

Dust adorned the sides of the room, and spiders looked at them from a myriad cobwebs, but

Homer only cared about his money. Then Maria screamed.

“Something is on the floor,” she said.

The head had fallen amidst the littler, but Homer had left it inside the envelope a few

moments before. It had to be magic. Taking a broom she found by the door, she got ready to

attack the thing looking at her from the papers.

“It’s a head,” Homer said. “An Indian gave it to me.”

“A human head?”

Homer nodded. Keeping a few steps away, Maria studied the face encased in the hair.

“It’s horrible,” she said.

“I know.”

“Why do you keep it?”

“I like it,” he said.

Maria tried to ignore the thing on the table by wiping the furniture in the room, the cloth

looking dirtier by the minute. Homer tried to calm her down.

“I like you,” he said.

“Throw it away then,” she said.

“Would you come with me to the jungle?” he asked.

She dropped the saucepan she had been washing, the noise echoing through the kitchen in

do minor. A man seldom asked a girl to the jungle unless he wanted to marry her.

“Is it to find your Indians?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I will have to ask father.”

28

Maria had to ask her parent's permission for everything in her life, as Homer thought of

them making love amidst the trees. Fantastic! On finishing his tea, he found stamps inside the

desk, cluttered with all kinds of things. The head had to travel through the sea to get to a land

full of opportunities and money.

“The Indian lives by the Guaviare River,” he said.

“Did he tell you that?”

“He can’t talk.”

After opening the map on the table, Homer showed her the part of the jungle where the

heads might be amidst the savannah. The Indian had to trek a long way in search of his coca

leaves. As Homer looked into her dark eyes, he wished she came with him. Holding her hand,

he muttered sweet words in her ear, hoping for the impossible.

“The jungle is dangerous,” she said.

“I’ll protect you with my gun.”

Running his fingers over her breasts, he tried to imagine the shortest way to the Indian

village, and the heart of the jungle.

“He wants coca leaves,” he said.

29

Jaramillo

Homer imagined all the money he might make with the heads, while the tree of life swayed

in the breeze, its branches brushing against the windows. The death of his parents ran through

his mind, as the noises of the world intruded in this reality, and the breeze caressed his face.

He must have dozed for a few moments, because the sun had gone behind the clouds when

he opened his eyes. Homer didn’t notice a shadow moving through the garden. At first the red

bricks looked grubby but then a little boy with dirty clothes and picking his nose stood against

the wall. Homer hoped the child might go away, but after moving along the path the apparition

stopped by the tree.

“I must be dreaming,” Homer muttered to himself.

Having played with invisible companions during his childhood, he thought the child

couldn’t be real, while looking at him under the rays of the sun.

“Hi,” Homer said.

That single phrase broke some of the ice, while the flies flew around them and Jose picked

his nose.

“Where is your mother?” the child asked.

Homer shrugged. “She died.

“She died?”

“Yes.”

Looking at the kitchen window, Homer noticed the bottles he had left there a few days

before, and the cloth Maria used to wipe the surfaces. His mother had gone to the kingdom of

the sky some time ago, but a mirage like Jose wouldn’t understand that. Even though Homer

had grown into a tall man with green eyes and dirty hair, Jose had remained the same in the

confines of the garden.

”I had to leave early yesterday,” he said.

“That was a long time ago.”

“Time doesn’t exist here,” Jose said.

30

“What do you mean?” Homer asked.

“You’ll understand one day.”

Jose caressed the tree full of brown patches, as Homer barked. Jose imitated him, their

voices rising amidst the plants covering the wall, the nature of time and life itself dissolving

into nothing.

“Do you still want to be invisible?” Jose asked.

“I don’t know.”

Jose had not aged at all since the last time he had appeared, his eyes keeping that light

brown colour while his cheeks looked dirty.

“Where is your uncle?” the child asked.

“He’s a journalist in New York.”

“Good for him.”

Memories of that day flooded Homer’s mind, as he looked at a toy car rotting amidst the

wild flowers, but the tricycle Uncle Hugh had given him had survived amidst the mud.

“Can you guess the future?” Homer asked.

“It’s all around you.”

“What do you mean?”

”I can’t tell you anymore.”

The sounds of the garden intruded in their silence. At first Jose talked of life, but now he

mentioned the future. Ignoring his invisible friend, Homer touched his nose and Jose did the

same thing.

“You seem to guess my thoughts,” Homer said.

Jose played with the lower branches of the tree, dislodging a few leaves and some of the

seeds. They would bring more life to the garden one day. As Homer studied his friend, he

remembered the invisibility cloak protecting him against the world.

“Shut your eyes,” Jose said.

31

Homer didn’t know what surprise the child had for him, but then the sound of voices

intruded in his reality. On opening his eyes, he saw Maria accompanied by a tall man.

“He wanted to see you,” she said.

“Good afternoon,” the man said. “I’m Jaramillo.”

Wearing smart clothes, he kept away from the wall and the branches of the tree full of bird

muck.

”I hope I haven’t disturbed you,” he said.

Brushing a few cobwebs sticking to his shirt, Jaramillo avoided the dirty patches in the

garden.

“I’m a friend of your Uncle Hugh,” he said.

“He’s in New York.”

“I met him there.”

After rummaging in his bag, he showed Homer pictures of the shrunken head along some

articles about the Amazonian jungle he must have cut from a magazine.

“A New York shop wants more heads,” he said.

Images of all the money he might make went through Homer’s mind, as he took the

journalist back to the kitchen full of trash. He put a few things on the floor, as dust enveloped

them like a mantle. Jaramillo coughed and Homer muttered apologies.

I’m sorry,” Homer said.

“When will you go to the jungle?” Jaramillo asked

“I must wait for the Indian to come back.”

While opening a map full of greasy spots, Homer looked for the mark the Indian had made

with a pencil a few days before

“He must live by the Guaviare River,” he said.

“Your heads must be there,” Jaramillo said.

“I think so.”
32

Homer sipped some coffee Maria had brought them, while looking at Mitu, the capital of the

Guaviare province. He didn’t care if he had to ride amidst the wild life.

“He wants coca leaves,” he said.

“Can’t they grow them in the jungle?” Jaramillo asked

“I don’t know.”

“It’s incredible.”

Jaramillo left a few greasy spots in the paper, while writing the conversation in his

notebook. He must have touched something dirty when sitting at the table. Wiping his hands

in his handkerchief, he examined them carefully before writing more things about the heads.

“I’ll take civilization to remote parts of the jungle,” Homer said.

“Well done.”

After writing Homer’s statements for future reference, Jaramillo spent a few moments

wiping his hands in his handkerchief.

“You must come to my office next time,” Jaramillo said.

Having put his pen and paper in his bag, he got ready to go back to his office at the other

end of town.

“Call me if the Indian comes again,” he said.

“I’ll do that.”

After making his way through all the boxes, papers and other things, he reached the shop,

where Miguel served a customer.

“I’ll be in contact,” the journalist said, before disappearing amidst the merchandise waiting

to be sold to the public.

33

The trip

Wearing a gown and with his long hair in a pony tail, the Indian stood next to the tins of

soup and bags of rice in the corner, while waiting for Homer to serve his customers. He

resembled one of those statues of San Agustin in the Huila province, as a woman bumped into

him.

“He’s from the jungle,” Homer said.

She smiled. “Don’t worry, Mr. Homer.”

“I have a few things you might like to see,” he said.

Homer put boxes on the floor, before holding a nice dress with golden buttons around the

waist. It would look beautiful on the woman’s slender body with big breasts.

“It came from Paris yesterday,” he said. “I have my contacts there.”

Anything good in Paris had to look well in Homer’s shop. Holding it against her body, she

looked at her reflection in the mirror by the counter, the fabric tagging her body.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

Fiddling inside a drawer, he found some more clothes in different colours and sizes, their

buttons shining under the light of the lamp.

“This red blouse must suit you,” he said.

She turned it around, inspecting the front and back, her eyebrows rising in admiration. After

twirling in front of the mirror a few times, she seemed satisfied with the garment, but frowned

on looking at the price.

“I’ll give you eighty pesos for this one,” she said.

He shrugged. “I’d be losing money.”

“Eighty pesos,” she said.

“One hundred is my last offer.”

“You will lose a customer, Mr. Homer.”

Everything seemed to stop, as she moved along the shop. He couldn’t let her go without

buying anything or his universe might crumble.

34

“You can have it for ninety pesos,” Homer said.

“Eighty pesos.”

He shrugged. “Ninety.”

On handing it to her, he saw her hands running through the fabric, long nails caressing the

material. A satisfied customer will bring more business, Homer thought. As she looked in her

handbag, coins fell on the counter, disturbing the peace with their noise. Then she handed him

crisp notes she had must have withdrawn from the bank that morning, with the water mark and

the signature of the vice-president of the country.

“You’ll look like a princess,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. Homer.”

“And it’s a good price.”

“I hope so.”

She looked at the other dresses in the counter, while waiting for Homer to write a receipt.

He hoped she would buy something else to go with the blouse.

“Do you want to see some other things?” he asked.

“I’ll come some other time.”

“I’ll have nice clothes next week,” he said.

“Fine, Mr. Homer.”

Waves of cheap perfume wafted in the air, as she moved towards the door, her hips waving

with each step she took. Homer saw her moving along the street, before disappearing by the

coffee shop in the corner. Next time he might even invite her to have a cup of tea. Going back

to the counter, he saw the Indian in the shadows.

“Here is your bag of coca,” Homer said.

“Ummm,” the Indian said.

“I want my payment.”

“No,” the man said.

“You won’t haven it then.”

35

The man didn’t react or he had not understood one word. On opening his draw, Homer

found his gun, useful for settling any kind of dispute, but then he remembered the promise the

Indian had made.

“Are we going to the jungle?” Homer asked.

The Indian nodded, as Miguel appeared at the door.

“I don’t like him, Mr. Homer,” he said.

“He’s harmless.”

“He wants you to believe that.”

Taking a few tins of food from the cellar, Homer put them in his bag, while the Indian’s

dark eyes followed his actions.

“Where are you going?” Miguel asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You have to have some idea, Mr. Homer.”

“I’ll come back in a few days,” Homer said.

Straightening the bags of coca by the counter, Homer checked them for any holes or other

imperfections. He didn’t want to find a nightmare of debts and angry customers on his return.

Leaving his diary on the counter, he made sure the cash machine worked properly, before

counting the clothes in the corner.

“You must write a receipt every time someone buys something,” Homer said.

Miguel nodded. “I know, Mr. Homer.”

Having had a last look at his merchandise, Homer put a few more things in his bag. He had

bought a mosquito lotion and had a good watch to tell the time in the jungle, where he planned

to offer the Indian lots of coca for many heads.

“I thought the journalist might come,” Miguel said.

Homer shook his head. “I want to go on my own.”

“He might kill you.”

“He won’t.”
36

“I don’t know, Mr. Homer.”

With the gun in his pocket, Homer thought the Indian might have a rough time if he tried

anything funny during their journey. Jaramillo would be useless with his notebooks and the

wild animals of the undergrowth. Homer saw a shadow standing by the tree, his figure outlined

against the grass and the plants. Thinking an intruder had gone in the backyard, he opened the

back door, its handle falling on the floor. He had to repair it when he had some time. The

backyard looked empty, as a squirrel stood on the wall and the tree overshadowed the floor. It

had to be his imagination, triggered by his journey to the unknown.

On touching the tree branches, he remembered Uncle Hugh visiting them long ago. Miguel

would keep his customers satisfied while he looked for his heads in the jungle. Then Jose

appeared by his side. Shutting his eyes, Homer hoped the apparition might go away, by the

time he opened them again. The child had to be made of fantasy like many other things in his

life.

“I thought you had gone,” Homer said.

“I never left you,” Jose said. “You’ll understand one day.”

He had gone as the Indian waited in the shadows. It had to be a miracle, like everything else

in his life.

“Two and two are seven,” Homer said to himself.

37

The savannah

“Be careful,” Miguel said.

Homer nodded. Don’t worry.”

Miguel escorted them out of the shop with his mop, as the afternoon sun shone in the sky.

On moving along the street, they went past other shops selling all kinds of things amidst the

noise of the market. Nobody seemed to pay attention to the Indian wearing a gown and a plait

hanging out of his hat, as Father Ricardo stopped by their side

“I don’t like him,” he said.

“He’s harmless, father.”

“Bring him to the church on Sunday then.”

“I’ll do that father.”

Shaking his head, Father Ricardo moved toward the cemetery, while Homer led the Indian

through a wide street with a few shops. As they arrived at the city centre, bicycles and cars

mingled with the carriages, but then a grey station loomed amidst the palm trees and bushes.

Espresso Palmira, said in big letters by the door. On entering the place, they saw the

passengers sitting in the benches, while a

girl filed her nails behind a desk filled with papers. Homer interrupted her concentration by

knocking at the table.

“I want two tickets to Villavicencio,” he said.

Blowing on her nails, she checked a notebook, full of names and numbers.

“It’s four hundred pesos,” she said.

Homer wanted the heads, even if he had to spend some of his money. Counting some of his

pesos he put them in the counter by the papers and magazines.

“Thank you,” she said.

Then she handed him the tickets, her big breasts trembling like jelly. Homer wanted to stay

by her side instead of looking for the heads in the jungle.

“I’m going to the Amazon jungle,” he said.

38

“Your friend is waiting,” she said.

“He’s my guide to the unknown.”

“You must be crazy.”

He had to go, even if he liked her teats, and holding the tickets, he went back to the Indian

sitting at the table.

“We’re going to Villavicencio,” Homer said.

Faced with the man’s silence, Homer wondered how much money his own head might fetch

in the shops. His life could be at the mercy of cannibals with a taste for coca.

“Are we going the right way?” Homer asked.

The Indian went on looking at the garage, where the driver checked the bus tyres. He had to

know whether they caught the wrong bus to hell, but Homer needed the money to sail across

the Caribbean Sea in his yacht. Then he noticed one of the buses moving away from the bay.

Taking his case in one hand, his bag in another and the tickets in his mouth, Homer rushed

through the crowd followed by the Indian. He knocked at the bus door, his cases threatening to

fall on the floor.

“Can you let us in? Homer asked.

He put a fifty pesos note against the bus window, hoping the driver would kill the engine.

“It will be yours if you open the door,” he said.

The driver shook his head but after a few moments, he beckoned them inside the darkness.

Homer blamed himself for coming to the unknown with the Indian from hell.

“It’s not a sin to leave on time,” the driver said.

“I paid you money,” Homer said.

On moving along the aisle, they stepped on the bodies lying in the floor. Homer couldn’t

understand why they didn’t sit somewhere.

“I’ll kill you,” a fat woman said.

Homer shrugged. “I’m sorry, Madam.”

“You’ve broken my leg.”

39

She gestured somewhere under the mass of people, where her legs had to be. Homer saw

two empty seats at the back of the bus, and amidst the commotion. As

They stepped on a few limbs and torsos, they managed to avoid a serious injure by the time

they arrived at a cage full of chickens. God must have kept those places in the crowded bus or

he had good luck in his life. Flapping their wings, the birds looked at him with beady eyes.

“I want one hundred pesos,” A woman said.

“Not now,” Homer said.

“You can’t sit next to me then.”

Homer ignored the woman, as the bus drove along the countryside full of sugar plantations,

the wind bringing him a rain of feathers and shit. He covered his face with his hands, trying to

stop the dirt going up his nose.

“The birds don’t like you,” the woman said.

“I don’t want them either.”

The thought of the heads kept Homer sane amidst all the mess around him. After chewing a

bit of coca, he dreamed of the Indians dancing at the sound of drums as a beautiful girl

beckoned from a hammock.

“Empanadas,” someone said.

On opening his eyes, Homer saw a woman lifting a plate filled with flies and food, outside

the bus window.

“Tamales,” someone else said.

They tempted Homer with their concoctions harbouring zillion of illnesses amidst the dust

covering everything.

“I’m not hungry,” he said.

“He eats shit,” the woman sitting by his side said.

Homer kept quiet, even though she had to be the biggest shit eater in the world. Then he

noticed the Indian had left his seat. He might have gone outside to stretch his legs or to the

toilet. Moving down the aisle, Homer stepped on people’s feet once more.
40

“Have you seen my friend?” he asked.

“No,” they answered.

“He wore a long gown,” Homer said.

Everyone followed his movements as he walked on the mass of bodies spread along the

aisle, while a child cried.

“Your friend is outside,” the driver said.

At first Homer couldn’t see anything outside the windows, but then he noticed a figure

waiting by a few mules. Getting off the bus, he hurried amongst the vendors accosting him

with their wares.

“I want some money to buy a coffee,” someone said.

Homer shrugged. You need to have a bath.”

“Help me, mister” a woman stretched a hand towards him.

“Empanadas,” another one said.

Homer reached the Indian after fighting with the sellers, the man greeting him with cool

eyes.

“I thought we had to go to Villavicencio,” Homer said.

“Mmm,” the Indian said.

Putting their bags on a mule, the Indian climbed on another one, leaving Homer amidst the

dust. Having seen a few cowboy films, he tried to get on his animal like John Wayne did, but

fell down the other side, hurting his arms. That had never happened to the Wild West heroes of

his childhood. The Indian chewed some more coca, while Homer tried to climb on the mule.

“You won’t have any more coca,” he said.

“Mmmm,” the Indian said.

“Can’t you talk?”

“Mmmm.”

Everyone cheered when Homer got up the saddle, the best achievement of his life in the

jungle up to that moment. He followed the Indian down the lane, as a flock of birds chatted to
41

each other in their own language, and children waved at him, while their mother washed their

clothes by a well. Homer had visited this land a few times in his night terrors, even if he had

floated through the path, taking him to the unknown. After they had been riding through the

wild for a few hours, they arrived at a river, where the Indian helped him to get off the mule.

“I can’t swim,” Homer said.

“Mmmm.”

“You must be dumb,” Homer said.

Sitting down on a boulder covered with moss, he saw the Indian catching their lunch with a

fishing rod he must have purchased in the market. The line swam in the current, before it

tightened under the weight of a fish or a piranha.

“Bravo,” Homer said.

The man smiled. “Mmmmm.”

“You must learn my language,” Homer said.

“Mmm.”

“That is called fish.”

“Mmmm.”

“Fish,” Homer said.

As the Indian cleaned it with his knife, the scales mixed with the grass around them. Then

he made a fire with some matches he had in his pockets, the smoke frightening the insects of

the jungle. They waited in silence for the fish to fry in the fire burning the grass and other

things.

“How many heads do you have?” Homer asked.

Faced with the man’s silence, Homer tried to imagine the Indians keeping the heads of their

enemies somewhere in the jungle. Then the Indian served the food in a few palm leaves he had

found somewhere amidst the trees. The man had to have a great imagination to accomplish his

deeds. Feeling hungry after his trek through the jungle, Homer ate the fish he had seen alive a

few moments before.

42

“I want to have many heads,” Homer said.

He pointed to his own face to communicate his business feelings to the Indian. He had

come here to find a treasure of heads, but the Indian didn’t care. Homer imagined how much

he might charge to Uncle Hugh’s friend in New York to increase his capital. A nice head might

fetch a few thousand dollars or he could even more money for the Indians’ relics of war.

After erecting a pole amidst the grass, the man hammered its sides onto the floor. Homer

hoped the snakes and other things wouldn’t keep him company during the night. Night had

come to the plains, the sun turning into a ball of fire before disappearing behind trees in a

beautiful spectacle. Homer sipped his drink, enjoying the sunset in the land of the trees, but

then he felt tired. Staggering around, he managed to find the entrance to the tent the Indian had

erected in the middle of the field, before losing consciousness for some time. Homer dreamed

of walking through the forest in the moonlight, the sound of drums echoing around the land of

the trees.
43

Lost

Homer didn’t know where he was or why he had appeared here. Darkness greeted his

senses wherever he looked, as a cricket sang somewhere in the night. Shutting his eyes, he

expected things to be fine when he opened them again. He blamed the Indian for pouring

something in his drink, as he ran through the fields with no clothes on.

“Help me,” he said.

The wind answered his question. Homer must have lost his clothes while rushing through

the jungle in his dreams, as he had been afraid of something in the night. He remembered

wandering through his home in the middle of the night during his childhood, when he had

crashed with the furniture and other things. Night terrors his mother had called them.

The doctor had given him some tablets to take before going to bed and Father Ricardo had

blessed him with holy water but he still wandered about the shop or anywhere else he might be.

The sound of drums brought him back to reality, disturbing the stillness of the night. Homer

blamed the Indian for his misfortune. Then the sounds of a river roaring amidst the darkness

brought him back to reality and his fear of the unknown.

Whilst moving towards the water shining under the light of the moon, a thousand insects

illuminated his path along the shores of a strange world. The moon shone overhead, while dark

shapes adorned the horizon, bringing back the memories of his nightmares. If he followed the

shore, he might find the Indian sleeping on his mat and the mules munching the grass by the

tent. The man must have tricked him into coming in this journey of waking dreams.

“You were stung by an animal,” a voice said.

Homer saw Jose clutching a toy in his hands, but he didn’t feel afraid of the apparition,

another sign of coming madness.

“I want to go home,” Homer said.

“Do you talk to yourself often?” the child asked.

“You are here.”

“I might be.”
44

“What do you mean?”

“You have to find her,” Jose said.

Following his pointing finger, Homer saw dark shapes under the moonlight, like giants

ready to fight with him in his dreams. He wanted to flee the scene before they killed him

forever.

“She’ll save you,” Jose interrupted his thoughts.

“I’m already in hell.”

Homer found huts with conical roofs, but no one seemed to inhabit them. On entering one

of them, he found a hammock hanging in the darkness. He had been there on a night of death

and desolation, when his world had crumbled into nothingness somewhere in time.

“Where is everyone?” Homer asked.

“They might have gone,” Jose said.

“I don’t understand.”

The child disappeared, leaving Homer alone with his fear. On looking inside the hammock,

he found a blanket waiting for him to go to sleep, as a dark shape threatened to swallow the

universe. He remembered the huts amidst the trees under the light of the moon in another

reality, as the sound of the drums echoed around the place.

Remaining e with his face under the blankets, he waited for the monsters to go away.

Homer had come here to get the heads before his night terror turned everything upside down.

He had to find the Indian once more.

Then he heard footsteps in the darkness. At first he thought ghosts had come to get him, but

then a girl appeared holding a candle in her hands, other shadows hovering in the background

of her world. Shutting his eyes, Homer expected her to go by the time he opened them again.

“Help me,” he said.

The shadows quivered at the sound of his voice, while the candle dissolved in drops of wax.

As the women chanted, the girl got inside the hammock, making it move across the precipice of
45

hell. He felt her body next to his, her naked beauty an allure to his senses, while his lips tasted

of strawberries.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Mmm,” she said.

“No one talks in the jungle,” he said.

She touched him with her erect teats and soft skin, her pubic hair darker than the night.

Homer had to be hallucinating or the Indian wanted to keep him happy with his drugs.

“I like you,” Homer said.

“Mmmm,” she said.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Kam,” she said.

“You understand me.”

“Kam,” she said.

Squashed against her breasts, Homer heard her muttering more things in language scientists

might classify with a strange name.

“I have waited for you all my life,” he said.

“Kam,” she said.

“Homer smiled. “I know.”

He didn’t notice what happened to the other people, as he promised her eternal love in the

kingdom of the shadows, even if he didn’t get the heads. Homer loved Kam but she adored an

idol made of mud, baked in a town full of ghosts. After making love to her for an eternity, he

saw the Indian by the hammock. The man moved towards them, dressed in a white gown and

his hair plaited around his face.

“Welcome to our town, Mr Homer,” he said.

“You speak my language.”

“Of course I do, Mr. Homer.”

“I came here in a night terror,” Homer said.

46

“The Gods led you to us.”

“What Gods?”

“The ones who live in heaven,” the Indian said.

“You must have drugged me.”

The Indian shrugged. “We have been looking after you.”

“I don’t like your poisons.”

Kam tried to stop the argument, while arousing him with her charms and her fingers under

the blankets.

“She loves you,” the Indian said.

“Why don’t you let me go?” Homer asked.

“You are sick.”

“I’m not.”

“Prove it then.”

Homer tried to stand up, holding the sides of the hammock, but fell back inside the blankets.

“You must take our potions,” the Indian said.

Cupping his face in her hands, the girl sucked Homer’s ears while caressing his face.

“She cares about you, Mr. Homer.”

“Does she?”

Kissing his cheeks, she made sure he swallowed the herbs she had put in his mouth a few

moments before. They had to be good for his heath or for whatever purposes they kept him

prisoner.

“I want my heads,” Homer said.

“I never promised anything, Mr. Homer.”

“You won’t have any more coca then.”

“We have enough for the moment.”

“Thieves,” Homer said.

47

He remembered the bags of coca he had left in the tent, before disappearing into the night.

The Indian must have taken them to his village, forgetting to give him the heads. Feeling

angry, Homer pushed her away for luring him into a world of sex and pleasures of the flesh.

“I want to go home,” he said.

“You’ll have your heads, Mr. Homer.”

“When will it be?”

“You must remember, Mr. Homer.”

“I want them now,” Homer said.

He felt weak and his body felt heavy. It had to be the herbs she had put in his mouth before.

They had made him feel sleepy, while his mind tried to escape from his captors.

“Kam will make you better,” the Indian said.

“I don’t understand,” Homer said.

“You want Kam, Mr. Homer.”

Homer stopped struggling, even though he didn’t have the heads. As the girl caressed his

chest, they made love amidst the blankets of his dreams and by the time dawn came, he felt the

happiest man on earth but he had to remember something...

48

Escape

Homer dreamed of his shop on the other side of the jungle. He had gone to another land of

love in the sky, where Kam reigned supreme.

“I love you,” he said in his dreams.

“Mmmm,” he heard her answering somewhere in the night.

Waking up later, he found Kam by the hammock, her silhouette visible in the twilight world

of the hut. She caressed his hair while muttering in her language, as the taste of herbs

penetrated his brain, and the hammock moved in empty space forever. He waited for hours, his

eyes studying the darkness around them, while she slept.

He had to act fast before dawn came to the outside world, somewhere beyond the walls of

his prison. After lowering his legs to the floor, his fingers felt the bumps and cracks on the wall

but he couldn’t find a door. He went around the place in a circle looking for that opening to the

outside world.

Homer worried, while thinking what might happen if she found him amidst the shadows.

They could sell his head for a few bags of coca in the nearest town, or they would eat his

entrails with potatoes and soup. Shutting his eyes, he wished Jose solved his problems, but

nothing happened. Then he heard Kam whispering in the darkness. Wearing a long gown, she

looked like a beautiful ghost of the hut lost somewhere in time.

“I want to go home,” Homer said.

“Home,” she said.

“You must understand.”

Holding her hands, he took her around the hut, while getting entangled in a few cobwebs

adorning the place. Then he felt something running down his chest. It had to be one of those

spiders living amidst the vegetation. He had to get rid of it, before it poisoned his body with its

poisons and illnesses from the jungle. Homer ran around, his body convulsing under his fear of

the unknown, as something conspired against him, but Kam stopped him in the darkness, her

hands taking away whatever had frightened him to death.

49

“Where is the door?” he asked.

“Door,” she said.

“Where is it?”

Leading him towards the wall, she pressed something and a panel lifted up, the sky full of

stars greeting his senses. He had to find his way home as he stepped in the grass.

“Will you come with me?” he asked.

“Home,” she said.

Kam defied the wishes of her tribe, while moving along the path under the light of the moon.

They could kill her for helping him escape back to the wild, where no one would find them. He

wore a tunic similar to hers, protecting him against the wind and some of the mosquitoes

infecting the place with their poisons.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Kam.”

“I’m grateful to you, Kam.”

He saw her smiling in the twilight, her breasts bouncing under her gown. She could live

amidst the coca bags in his shop, while boiling her herbs and talking nonsense forever. Her

witchcraft could help the insomniacs of the world. On arriving at the shore of a river, they saw

other side looking like an enchanted forest of a fairy tale. Cooping some of the water in his

hands, Homer tasted the goodness of the jungle in its molecules of hydrogen and oxygen.

As the sound of the drums echoed around them, Homer felt nervous. The Indians might be

looking for his head at that moment in time.

“We have to hurry,” he said.

“Kam,” she said.

“You know your name.”

Muttering something, Kam followed him along the river shore, as the fields brought them

the sad melodies of the drums. Homer wanted to take Kam back to the city, even if he couldn’t

have the heads anymore.

50

“They’ll be jealous at home,” Homer said.

“Mmmm.”

“Women will hate you, while men will want to marry you.”

“Door,” she said.

“You are improving,” he said.

On arriving at a clearing, Homer heard footsteps following them amidst the darkness. He

had to keep his head in place.

“I’m frightened,” he said.

“Kam,” she said.

He kissed her lips. “You are beautiful.”

They ran through a path in the jungle, the branches of the trees getting entangled in their

hair. They had to be following them with their potions to make his head small enough to send

to New York. Holding her hands, he led the way amidst the vegetation and other things amidst

the shadows of the night, but he couldn’t see anyone around them.

“Where are they?” Homer asked.

Kam looked around the forest, the light of early dawn filling their world with long shadows,

while the sun struggled to appear behind the clouds.

“No,” Kam said.

“What is it?”

Gesturing at the sun, she escaped along the fields, the sound of her voice echoing around

him, as her hair flew in the wind from the west.

“Kam,” Homer said.

He followed her through the foliage, stepping on the puddles left by the rain and scratching

his legs with the thorns. Homer expected the girl to come back, muttering some more words in

her language.

“Kam,” he said. “Stop playing games.”

51

The drums went on but Kam stayed away, abandoning him to his fate. Homer examined a

few rags she had left on the floor, her scent assaulting his senses. Kam had taught him to love

in the hammock and to distrust the Indians in the middle of nowhere. He found the mules

munching the grass by the shores of the river, when the Indian had caught fish for their dinner.

He galloped along the path he had followed with the Indian, the sound of the drums fading

in the distance. Homer found a town with white houses and a big church by a statue of Simon

Bolivar, after moving along the path for some time. People appeared out of the doors to

welcome the stranger on a mule.

“It isn’t palm Sunday yet,” they said.

“I escaped from the Indians,” he told a policeman. “They wanted to shrink my head.”

“The sun has made you crazy,” the man said.

“It’s true,” Homer said.

He led him to the health centre, where one of the nurses took his pulse, while the other

patients moved away from him. He scared them with his gown and dirty face.

“He must be crazy,” they said.

“Where can I take the bus to the nearest city?” Homer asked.

“It leaves tomorrow morning,” she said. “You won’t need the mules anymore.”

Homer kept Kam’s possessions in his bag, a reminder of his journey to the jungle. He had

to forget about the heads for the moment.

52

The sea

Miguel and Maria had welcomed Homer back in the shop, although he didn’t get the hero’s

welcome he expected. Lucky to be alive, he had to forget all about Kam, and his adventure in

the jungle. She had disappeared, leaving her clothes on the floor, after they had escaped

through the forest in the middle of the night. That last aguardiente he had by the fire, must

have brought his night terrors of hammocks and sex in the twilight. Homer put the rugs he had

found in his safe, as a reminder of his adventure in the jungle where he had found Kam. He had

to forget the heads and all the money they had promised in his life, although Uncle Hugh had

sold them in New York.

Foreign businessman defies the jungle, Homer read in the papers the next day. They didn’t

know anything about his escape in the land of trees, where he had nearly died. Thinking of

other ways of earning his money, Homer looked for the phone he kept by the safe.

“I want to talk about the sea,” he said to the young woman who answered.

“What about the sea?” she asked at the end of the line.

“It’s to help the local economy.”

“I can’t understand,” she said.

“I’m Mr. Homer.”

He heard her voice again, after a pause, when he thought she had hung up.

“I’ll call you when we arrange something, Mr. Homer.”

Homer realised how easy it was for him to talk about money. It had to be his fame as a rich

foreigner or his adventure with the Indians in the middle of the jungle. He sipped some hot

chocolate Miguel had brought him, while thinking of his talk in the library, where he had to

convince the public to part with their money.

The sun shone in the sky, as he moved through the streets full of people in his way to the

library. Mother had warned him of people who liked reading books. They had to be crazy.

After summoning enough courage, he pushed the library doors, leading him to the reception,

where a young woman stamped a pile of books on her desk.

53

“I want to borrow some books,” he said.

“You must fill the library card first.”

She waited for him to write his details in a piece of paper, but Homer could only read. His

parents had taught him the basics of life at home, where he had learned about life and death.

“I didn’t bring my glasses,” Homer said. “Could you do it for me?”

She wrote his name and address after asking him some questions irrelevant to the sea or

whatever else he wanted to know.

“You have the name of a Greek hero,” she said.

“Really?”

“He fell in love with Helen during the Trojan War.”

Homer had never heard of his name sake doing all of those exciting things in the name of

love. That wasn’t quite like him. He had to conquer the world without any women by his side,

but then she gestured to the back of the library.

“The books about him are by the window.”

Following her pointing finger, Homer crashed with a child reading some comics, as

everyone looked at him.

“Quiet,” someone said.

Homer had arrived at the middle of the library, where a few mothers looked at books with

their children. On taking one of the books he saw on a table, the picture of a man with crazy

eyes and a big nose looked back at him from the cover. As he sat at a table, he disturbed some

of the chairs, getting angry looks from the people around him. On opening the book, he saw a

long poem, stretching through the pages with a few illustrations to break the monotony. The

other Homer had been a busy man.

The Iliad by Homer, it said in big letters across the first page. It was something about the

Gods of Olympus helping Homer to win a war against a name he couldn’t pronounce. The

other Homer must have loved his girlfriend a lot for starting that war the librarian had talked

about in the mist of time. As Homer tried to understand all about Zeus, Hector, and King
54

Hermes doing their dealings with the Trojans, he saw a book with big boats on its cover. It had

big boats with a few floors and passengers looking like ants in the upper deck. Holding the

books, he moved along the library, disturbing the mothers and their children sitting at the table.

“I want to take these books home,” he said to the girl behind the desk.

Nodding, she stamped their first page, before looking at the picture of the other Homer in

the cover.

“It’s weird,” she said.

“What is it?” Homer asked.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Can you meet me tonight?” he asked.

“I have a boyfriend,” she said.

Homer left the library as an orchestra played in the park, and he thought of his ships sailing

around the world one day. He had to work towards getting his dreams.

“I’m Homer the Greek,” he muttered to himself.

As the band played the national hymn, Homer barked. The Trojan War made him strong

enough to fight for his life, even if the other Homer’s Gods didn’t support him.

“Hurrah to the president,” a woman said.

“To the president,” some other people said.

Homer remembered a sad looking man who kept on talking about the economy but never did

anything about it. The country needed someone else to lead them into the next century. As he

moved amongst the crowd, Father Ricardo appeared by his side full of the joys of life. Plump

and without much hair, the priest looked healthy and glad to be alive. It had to be all those

women keeping him happy with their charms and the love of God.

“You should have left the Indians alone,” the priest said.

“They made me rich, father.”

“We’ll discuss that another day,” father Ricardo said. “Will you come to mass tonight?”

“I’m busy, father.”

55

Shaking his head, Father Ricardo moved down the street, where the butcher cut his meat and

the grocer put more apples in his counter. Everybody worked to feed their families, even if

some of them didn’t go to mass or believe in heaven. Homer found Miguel tidying the boxes of

coca in his shop as thunder echoed around them, bringing turmoil to his soul.
56

The library

“I’m giving a lecture about the sea in the library,” Homer said when Jaramillo answered the

phone.

“The Indians didn’t bring you much money,” Jaramillo said.

“It will be different this time,” Homer said. “I’ll buy boats.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jaramillo said.

“Thank you.”

Putting the phone down, Homer thought of telling people to part with their money for his

own good. He had to use his intelligence to get ahead in his business.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in front of a mirror by the door. “I have an idea to help the

world.”

He tried to convince his invisible audience of his words, whilst waving his hands in the air.

Homer would have to get enough money to buy a ship and a few trucks to bring his

merchandise back from the port.

“Two and two are seven,” he muttered to himself.

Homer liked the sentence, even if it meant nothing. Many things didn’t go anywhere, like

the papers Jose had left on the floor full of strange words without a meaning. He wanted

recognition for his struggles to help the economy and the country, but a squirrel was his only

audience at that time of the morning.

“I love myself,” he said.

Turning the pages of the book, he saw boats full of sailors ready to conquer the world. The

memory of that voyage with his parents came back to his mind, when Homer remembered the

waves rising around the boat, as his stomach hurt. The telephone ringing disturbed his reverie.

“We have booked a room for you tonight, Mr. Homer,” a woman said.

“Thank you,” Homer said.

“You must be here at seven thirty pm.”

57

He spent most of the morning looking at his books and after having a cup of tea with some

bread for lunch, he got ready for his appointment with history. Homer practiced in front of the

mirror, what to say to the audience in the library. On looking at the papers Jose had left by the

tree, he hoped they would help him in his new enterprise. They brought back to his memory

the Indian heads he had sent to Uncle Hugh in New York and the adventure with Kam in the

jungle.

Putting the lucky coin in his pocket, he left by the back door, as Miguel served the

customers, because time didn’t exist in this world of merchandise and money. Hurrying away

through the park, Homer saw people sitting by the fountain, instead of coming to his lecture.

“Hello, Mr. Homer,” a man said. “Do you have any coca today?”

“It’s the best in the country,” Homer said.

“I’ll check it later.”

He moved down the street, as pigeons chased each other by the park benches, but then the

library loomed over him, red bricks looking dirty amidst everything else. Pushing the door, he

found the photographers waiting for him amidst all their equipment.

“We were expecting you, Mr. Homer,” They said.

The librarian left a stale scent in the air, as she led him to a room behind the lobby, where

she introduced him to the crowd.

“Homer wants to help the local economy,” she said.

He had forgotten everything he had to say, as tears ran down his face and the sun stopped

shinning outside. It had to be Armageddon for his soul.

“Will someone bring him a glass of water?” the girl asked.

Homer sipped a bit of aguardiente Jaramillo offered him, before holding the microphone in

his hands. Then he got ready to talk.

“This country has large coasts filled with treasures,” he said. “I love the sea.”

People applauded when he promised to have the best ships in the world. They had to

support the young entrepreneur leading the country to the future.

58

“I’ll give employment to local people, he said.”

“That sounds fair, Mr. Homer,” the girl said.

Homer went back to his seat amongst the public ovation.

“You must help our young businessman to achieve his goals,” the girl said.

People donated lots of money to his cause, as the journalists pledged their support for his

enterprise and Homer accepted the offers with tears in his eyes.

“I love the sea,” he said.

“Hurrah to Homer,” they said.

They opened a bottle of champagne to toast the hero.

“You can help the economy now,” they said.

Homer drank some aguardiente, while the world faded away in a symphony of colours and

he fell in a whirlpool of light. A girl wiped his forehead with a wet cloth, the next time he

opened his eyes.

“You fainted, Mr. Homer,” she said.

“It must be the excitement,” he said.

He drank some water with an alka- seltzer she offered him. It must have been his nerves...
59

The ships

The papers spoke of the foreign businessman travelling in the back of his truck to the port.

Homer slept between a sack of potatoes and another one of plantains. The flies annoyed him

but he had a fare paying passenger next to the driver. Stretching his legs, he tried to be

comfortable amidst the boxes around him. He had bought the truck for a few hundred pesos,

with the money he had collected after his talk in the library. Miguel had to repair the motor but

it had worked properly afterwards. It would be filled with merchandise next time the truck

returned to the city

Homer fell into a world of darkness, where the huts waited for him under the moon, while

the wind rushed by his face in its way to the port. Looking for Kam in his dreams, he forgot his

purpose in life or what he had to do in the real world, but the seagulls’ cries brought him back

to reality. Sitting down amidst the boxes, Homer saw the outskirts of the town all around him.

The sea had to be somewhere beyond the houses full of people, waiting to buy his merchandise.

As the truck stopped in a garage, Homer got off the vehicle.

“Hello, Mr. Homer,” the drivers greeted.

They prepared their vehicles for the long journey to other cities and towns in the region. As

Homer looked in a map he had brought in his journey, he saw a long street stretching all the

way to the docks on the other side of the town. Putting it back in his bag, he got ready to find

the sea, wherever it might be.

“Can I help you, Mr. Homer?” the driver asked.

“I want to go to the harbour,” Homer said.

“It’s at the end of the road.”

Looking at the distance, Homer thought it had to be a long road but he wanted to find his

boats.

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning,” the driver said.

Homer nodded. “It’s fine.”

60

Folding the map, he got ready to start his long trek to the docks, as the breeze cooled his

face and the dogs barked. After moving down the road, he saw shops selling fish and other

food from the sea. He bought a coconut biscuit, while other sellers accosted him with their

food. On opening a bottle of aguardiente Miguel had put in his bag, Homer remembered when

he had travelled with his parents across the sea many years before. They had been looking for a

dream in another country across the sea and on the other side of the world. He moved along the

street for some time, the rays of the sun toasting his skin to the bone.

“Can I help you?” a voice interrupted his reverie.

Homer saw a man with an earring in his left ear, a dog barking by his side. He had seen him

in his dreams or somewhere else in time.

“I want a boat,” Homer said.

“You have come to the right place,” the man said.

Following his pointing finger, Homer saw a few ships swaying in the waves.

“Are you selling them?” Homer asked.

He nodded. “I need the money.”

Homer couldn’t believe his luck. The boats seemed all right, even if he might have to paint

them a bit. On moving around the platform, he held onto the railings for fear of falling in the

water. Miguel or Jaramillo must have been planned the whole thing in advanced.

“I’ll give you one thousand five hundred pesos for them all,” he said.

“No way,” the man said.

“Two thousand pesos.”

“No.”

Homer shrugged. “I’ll find something else then.”

The man followed him along the pier, as a few sailors drank aguardiente outside a bar.

Homer noticed a pretty girl serving the customers, long legs showing through her miniskirt.

“Hi Cesar,” one of the sailors said. “When does the world end?”
61

Homer saw his companion doing a rude gesture with his fingers, before disappearing down

the path.

“Is he your friend?” they asked.

Homer shook his head. “He sells boats.”

“He’s a liar,” they said.

The men debated whether Cesar owned any boats and if they could sail the sea, as Homer

felt that anguish again.

“Don’t trust Cesar,” they said.

The aguardiente burnt his throat, while Homer thought about his dilemma, and the girl left

his lips tasting of rum and onions.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Maria,” she said.

Homer had met a few Marias in his life, but none of them made him happy. Meanwhile she

caressed his hair, her hands straying along his neck.

“Have we met before?” he asked.

She stopped her sex games to look at his eyes, before resuming his caresses.

“I have seen you in my dreams,” he said.

“I’m not dumb,” she said.

Massaging his chest, she forgot to serve her other customers, but Homer had to find his

boats before the truck went back to the city.

“I must go now,” he said.

“Why?”

“I’ll come back later.”

Homer didn’t say whether it would be on the same day or sometime in the future, but she

remained on his lap, her hands exploring under his clothes where he kept his money. She had

managed to open his shirt, but he pushed her away. Looking hurt, she rearranged her clothes,

before getting her tray.

62

“Wait for us,” the men said.

63

Cesar

The boats floated on the gray waters of the bay as Homer arrived at the docks, followed by

the sailors. He had to find the man selling his boats for a few thousand pesos, the best bargain

in the world. Homer had a guardian angel looking after him forever, making sure he found his

boats in the port. The clouds loomed over the water, as the seagulls flew overhead and the

waves crashed against the vessels he wanted to buy with the money from the library. Cesar

moved along the dock, followed by a little dog.

“You’ve found your men,” he said.

He ate rice with a wooden spoon, while the dog munched the food he dropped on the floor.

“They’re the best ships in the world,” he said.

“I’ll give one thousand pesos for them all,” Homer said.

“You kill me, Mr. Homer.”

“It’s my last offer.”

Homer counted the pesos he had collected in the library, a small price for someone who

loved the sea. Simon Bolivar’s face smiled at him from the bills, happy with Homer’s wishes

to help the poor and oppressed in the country. The sailors went inside the first boat, while

talking at the same time.

“It must be faulty,” they said.

“Shut up,” Cesar said.

On taking a bottle out of a bag, he poured aguardiente in small cups with pictures of the flag

on them. Then he offered Homer some of it to everyone.

“We must drink to the ships,”

“That’s good idea,” Homer said.

“You can’t trust the sun,” he said. “But you’ll believe the sea.”

The sailors laughed, while opening another bottle of aguardiente, the smell of alcohol filling

Homer’s senses. He had to organise his life before losing a grip on the world around him but

then he had an idea.

64

“Would you like to work for me? He asked. “I’ll pay you well.”

The men conferred with each other, while Homer inspected his possessions. They didn’t

look like the most beautiful vessels in the world, but they would do for the moment.

“When can we start?” they asked.

“Now,” Homer said.

After getting a few things Cesar kept in a cupboard aboard one of the boats, the sailors got to

work on the floor and the walls. They had to scrub them for their first mission in the world.

Cesar put the saucepan on the floor, letting the dog lick it.

“You’ll be the captain,” Homer said.

“Thank you, Mr. Homer.”

“He’s crazy,” the sailors said.

Homer wanted to give Cesar a chance, but the sailors wouldn’t accept it.

Cesar grinned. “The boats love me.”

“He can go to hell,” they said.

Homer opened the map he had got from the library a few days before, while trying to restore

the calm in this life cycle. He had to plan the path the boats would follow amidst the Caribbean

islands, full of tax free goods for his shop.

“I’m calling them Athena, Esparta and The Thermopiles,” Homer said.

Cesar nodded. “They remind me of Salvacion.”

“Why?” Homer asked.

“We had a horse called Athena.”

Homer didn’t see what it had to do with everything, but Cesar was a man full of surprises.

“Did you talk to Miguel?” Homer asked.

“I don’t understand, Mr. Homer.”

“Everything must have been arranged by my employee.”

Cesar shrugged. “Nobody told me anything.”

“Thanks for selling me the boats,” Homer said.

65

“Whatever thing you say, Mr. Homer.”

Homer heard Cesar’s adventures around the seas, where he had gone around the world a few

times. He must have had a good life or the man was a liar.

“I was born in Salvacion,” Cesar said.

Homer nodded. “It must be a beautiful place.”

“The president is a football fan,” Cesar said.

“That is fantastic,” Homer said.

“Hurrah to Salvacion.”

Cesar saluted an invisible flag, while Homer longed to do business with the republic of

Salvacion in the future. Then Cesar turned serious, his eyes getting darker.

“It could happen at any time, Mr. Homer.”

“What is it?” Homer asked.

“Armageddon,” Cesar said. “The world must be ready for it.”

Homer heard about the end of the world, when the sun would explode up in the sky

according to Cesar’s predictions.

“How do you know about it?” he asked.

“I read the bible, Mr. Homer.”

Homer wiped the floor and the walls full of dirt, listening to Cesar’s tales of horror. Then

they went down the steps to the lower deck, where the sailors drank aguardiente.

“We’ll finish tomorrow,” they said.

66

Homer is ill

After coming back from the port, Homer decided to save some money. Miguel helped in the

shop but Homer did his own cleaning, cooking and guarded the premises as a dog. He spent

most of his time chewing coca leaves, while watching the squirrels running up the tree branches

in the backyard. They only had to worry about gathering nuts from the floor to take to their

families, hiding somewhere in the woods. Homer could sell the trees, the flowers and the grass

to rich entrepreneurs interested in nature, if he put a price to the vegetation in the region. He

howled, the sound getting lost amidst the complexities of the day. Then Miguel appeared by

his side, interrupting his reverie.

Would you like to have lunch?” he asked.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten anything for a few days.”

“Food cost money,” Homer said.

“You have a shop, Mr. Homer,” Miguel said. “You can eat whatever` you want.”

Homer considered his words. He could open a tin of beans if he wanted and no one would

know, but he had to earn his money with sacrifice and hard work. Be tough, his mother’s voice

shouted through the abyss of time.

“The doctor has his surgery at the other side of the market,” Miguel said. “Why don’t you

come with me?”

“I’m not ill.”

“You must be healthy to get rich, Mr. Homer.”

Homer wanted to show the world what he could do with his life, but if he might have to pay

for any drugs he prescribed for him. The thought of spending money made him feel faint.

Looking at his own image in the mirror, he saw his hollow cheeks and thin arms.

“You must eat, Mr. Homer,” Miguel said.

“I do what I want.”

“You can’t enjoy your money in the cemetery, Mr. Homer.”

67

Homer had to sort out his life, before he spent his money in food.

“The doctor is free,” Miguel said. “He treats poor people for nothing.”

Homer might not be a millionaire in the future, if he got sick. He thought about his

dilemma, while taking his own pulse.

“I don’t need a doctor,” he said.

“You do, Mr. Homer.”

“I can cure myself,” Homer said.

Homer put two aspirin tablets in his mouth, the bitter taste filling his senses. He had to

conquer the world, like his mother had said before leaving her money to the charities of the

world. After shutting the shop, Miguel led him through the streets full of shoppers looking for

a bargain. Homer would lose lots of money by going to the doctor in the middle of the day,

when his customers wanted to buy his merchandise.

They had arrived at a small park, where the pigeons chased each other and children played a

football game nearby. Homer’s customers waited to buy his goods in the shop, as Miguel led

him inside a dark corridor at the other side of the market. As they entered a room, they saw

other people waiting. A man had a cut in his face, while a baby slept in his mother’s arms,

unaware of Homer’s pain.

“You should have gone to the hospital,” the receptionist said.

“I’m fine,” he said.

Homer couldn’t understand why they all fussed about his appearance, when a tin of beans

cost a lot of money. If he looked after his business, his pesos would soon multiply into lots of

money. He had to win the war, like the other Homer had done in the book he had seen in the

library.

“The doctor can see you now,” the girl interrupted his reverie.

She led him into a room, where a man sat at a desk full of papers. He smiled showing a row

of ugly teeth while shaking his hands.

“Mr. Homer,” he said. “You are not looking well.”

68

“I feel weak,” Homer said.

“When was your last meal?”

“I don’t remember.”

The doctor took Homer’s temperature and his reflexes. On asking him some more

questions, Homer told him how money had become the most important thing in his life. He

remembered his childhood where he had played by himself in the backyard, while his parents

worked hard in the shop. He had to have money to honour their memory buried in a cemetery

plot.

“You have to eat, Mr. Homer.”

Homer shrugged. “Food cost money.”

“You have food in your shop.”

“I told him that,” Miguel said.

Homer had to prove he was fine at that moment. Staggering to his feet, he moved a few

steps before collapsing by the door, the whole world fading away in a stream of colours. On

trying to get up, he crashed with a wardrobe and the books fell on his face. He had been

attacked for his sins, whatever they had been.

“I’ll phone the hospital,” the doctor said.

“I don’t need a hospital,” Homer said.

“They’ll feed you intravenously.”

“No.”

“You suffer from anorexia, Mr. Homer” he said.

“What is anorexia?”

“You want to starve yourself to death.”

The doctor wrote down a diet plan for Homer to follow. He had to eat lots of vegetables,

milk and meat, everything available in his shop. Then he gave Homer vitamin tablets to take

with his meals every day.

“You have to eat slowly at first,” he said.

69

“I’ll cook for him,” Miguel said.

Homer had to covalence in his bed for a while, even if he had to eat the food from his shop.

Taking a syringe, the doctor approached him.

“This injection will give you strength, Mr. Homer.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Too weak to fight the doctor, Homer felt pain in his arm as the shadows blended with the

darkness and the world stopped for a few minutes...

70

No tax

Homer ran with Kam through the jungle in his dreams, but she disappeared as the sun rose

behind the trees, leaving him holding her clothes. On waking up, he felt something had

changed in the room or it might be his imagination. On touching soft material, where splinters

had injured his hands before, he thought it had to be a bed, like the one he used to have during

his childhood some time ago. Miguel must have bought it with the money he kept in the cash

machine, even if it didn’t belong to him. Homer sent some of the blankets on the floor, as

Miguel appeared at the door.

“I found it in the trash, Mr. Homer,” he said.

“You’re lying.”

“Ask Maria.”

Homer surveyed his surroundings from his new position. He would have to sell lots of

merchandise to the public to get his money back, but then his stomach made a few noises. He

had forgotten those sensations when the body asks for replenishment of nutrients.

“I must be Hungry,” he said.

“It’s the injection the doctor gave you.”

“What injection?”

“It gives you strength.”

Miguel had prepared ham with scrambled eggs followed by a large glass of juice, everything

found in his own shop. What a waste of money. Homer ate slowly, savouring every morsel of

food he put in his mouth, hoping the man would never do that again.

“Do you want some more eggs, Mr. Homer?”

“They cost forty cents,” Homer said.

Homer thought of recovering the money he had lost during the last few days. As the other

employee of El Baratillo, he would ask for a substantial increase in his own wages. On opening

his diary, he saw all the things he had to do. After getting dressed, Homer found his bag for his

journey to the sea.

71

“I’m off to the port,” he told Miguel.

“I don’t know, Mr. Homer.”

“There is nothing wrong with me,” Homer said.

“The doctor...”

“He made a mistake.”

Homer left the shop and moved along the streets full of traders selling their merchandise,

and Father Ricardo talked to little old ladies about Jesus Christ. Homer avoided the priest, who

wanted him to sell his soul to the angel living in heaven. Then he found his trucks by the bus

station.

“Mr. Homer,” the drivers said. “You look slim.”

“I’ll tell you for a few hundred pesos.”

“Is it about you illness?”

“I’m not ill.”

Homer sat down in the back of one of the vehicles, thinking Miguel had told everyone about

his affliction and the trip to the doctor. Nothing bad had happened to him, apart from his hate

of food and love of money, but the doctor had made a big fuss of it.

“Mr. Homer,” the driver asked. “Would you mind if the dog travelled in the back?”

“It will cost more pesos,” Homer said.

“It’s fine,” the driver said. “But you must feed him.”

Putting the dog on the crates, he gave Homer a warm packet, smelling of chicken and other

things.

“He eats at this time of the day,” the man said.

The truck moved amidst the traffic, as Homer’s stomach gurgled and the animal looked at

him with dark eyes. It had to be those vitamins the doctor had given him to make him hungry.

On opening the parcel, Homer saw rice and beef washed in a brown sauce. A waste of money

if he gave it to the dog, but people could be funny. As he threw a bit of meat, the dog caught it
72

in the air with a thud. Homer tasted chillies and flour, after dipping his fingers in the sauce. He

ate all of it, and the dog had a few crumbs to calm his hunger.

“It’s mine,” Homer said.

The animal sat in one of the crates of coca to sell in the port, but Homer felt happy after such

a nutritious lunch. Then he masturbated, the sperm running through the boxes and ending by

his feet. It’s cheaper than doing it with a prostitute, he thought. Why didn’t he marry himself?

He might increase his own salary, and as a married man, he would have to pay less tax.

Homer’s Industries answered in an unexpected way. He thought of a long declaration of love

to himself, but the prospect of being hungry made him answer yes. After a long hour of

speculation, Homer had not found the solution to his problem. He didn’t want to marry yet,

even if it had to be to someone as nice as himself. The suburbs of the city filed past the truck,

as he thought of his marriage, and the dog whimpered.

“Shut up,” Homer said. “He’ll buy more food for you.”

Homer saw the streets full of people, where they bought fish and coconuts for quenching the

thirst in the hot weather. The driver helped Homer off the truck, after they had stopped at a

small garage full of vehicles.

“Mr. Homer,” the other drivers said. “You look sick.”

“Has Miguel told you that?” Homer asked.

“We don’t know what you mean.”

Homer sat in a chair. He shouldn’t have come on this trip after his illness. Women’s

clothes and the latest fashion from Los Angeles had just arrived, while wigs from Burma joined

the other boxes destined for El Baratillo. Homer saw a gaunt figure looking back at him from a

mirror by the door. He really looked thin and ill or it had to be the glass.

“I have anorexia,” Homer said.

“What is that?”The driver asked.

“I want to starve to death.”

“It’s a strange illness, Mr. Homer.”

73

The driver counted the number of boxes they had to take back to the city, while Homer

reflected in his life. Did he want to spend the rest of his days with himself? The answer had to

be yes, before he went back to his shop by the market. Everything seemed to be in order, and

the boxes had not been tampered by the customs. Knocking on the sides, he made sure they

wouldn’t burst in their journey through the jungle.

“Are you all right Mr. Homer?” a voice asked.

“Yes,” homer said.

“We’ll be leaving in seven minutes.”

74

Marriage

Once in the shop, Homer couldn’t wait to tell Miguel the good news.

“I’m getting married,” he said.

“Who is the lucky girl?” Miguel asked.

“I’m getting married to myself.”

“The doctor will give you medication,” Miguel said.

“I don’t need medication,” Homer said. “I need a wife.”

“You are mad.”

Chewing some coca leaves, Homer heard of the miracles doctors could perform on mad

people. Nobody married himself or herself unless they were crazy. He thought of the dark sun

conspiring against him ever since his birth in the mist of time, while listening to Miguel’s

speech. Badness had to be excluded from the world, before it did terrible things to his life but

Homer had a wedding to organise.

“Let’s go to the doctor, Mr. Homer,” Miguel said.

“We’ll go some other time.”

“It might be too late.”

Homer didn’t want to visit the doctor every time he had a problem, as his confidence had

increased since regaining his health. On opening the phone book, he looked for Jaramillo’s

telephone number amidst the names of other journalists in the city. Homer waited for a few

moments before his friend’s voice answered at the other end of the line.

“I’m getting married to myself,” Homer said.

“Is it to raise money?” the journalist asked.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s the best idea you have ever had,” Jaramillo said.

“Thank you.”

Homer phoned the hotel where the sailors stayed in the port to get more witnesses to his

marriage. It had to be the best party he had in his life and the new person he would become.
75

Homer congratulated himself for his plans to conquer the world, while waiting for the operator

to connect him. He had to defeat the taxman at all costs.

“Hi,” Cesar said at the other end of the line.

“I’m getting married to myself,” Homer said.

“It’s a great idea Mr. Homer,” Cesar said. “You can’t trust women.”

“How did you know?” Homer asked.

“You have just told me.”

Homer put the phone down. Cesar seemed to know more about his life than anyone else in

the world. First he had been ready with the boats in the port, and now he guessed his actions

and thoughts ahead of time. Homer imagined a terrible scene of devastation at the end of

everything dear to him.

“My daughters are here, Mr. Homer,” Miguel interrupted his reverie.

Maria appeared with Amelia in tow. They left a saucepan with some food their mother had

sent Homer, plus some rice pudding and other things, good for his health. Maria looked more

beautiful than ever, while looking at him with her dark eyes.

“He’s getting married to himself,” Miguel said.

“Stop joking,” she said.

She looked shocked, before regaining her composure. Homer had to be mad. Pecking his

cheeks, she left them full of the lipstick she had purchased in the market a few days before.

Homer felt an erection while she fussed over him, but women wanted food, clothes and toys for

the children, a waste of many things in the world.

“I want to hang the balloons, Uncle Homer,” Amelia said.

As the child put a few decorations around the room, it looked like a jungle with all the

flowers and plants Miguel had brought. The clocks Homer kept in a wardrobe kept the pace of

time in the most important day of his life.

“Why doesn’t he marry you?” Amelia asked her sister.

“Homer doesn’t want that,” Maria said.

76

The child shrugged. “You are pretty.”

Maria ignored her while Homer admired her body, even if he would love to himself forever

to get his money. She giggled, when he whispered in her ear and her dark hair tickled his

shoulders.

“Let’s talk,” he said.

“I’m busy.”

He had to be strong on his wedding day, as Amelia ran around them singing love songs, and

the sound of the door bell echoed in the air. He wished to be alone with Maria, before he had to

love himself forever.

“That must be the other guests,” she said.

She moved along the hall, followed by Homer.

“Can I see you later?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

He felt her breasts, as Father Ricardo appeared holding a cross. The priest had shaved his

head, leaving some hair by his ears. Then he gestured to the child.

“Why is she here?” he asked.

“It’s Homer’s party,” Maria said.

Putting the cross on the floor, Father Ricardo surveyed the scene of sin, but Homer didn’t

want to upset God’s representative on earth. On opening his bible amidst the bags of confetti

Amelia had prepared earlier, the priest had to exorcise Homer’s soul, before he went to hell.

“I’ll give you money to repair the tower, father,” Homer said.

Father Ricardo nodded. “The church clock doesn’t work.”

“I’ll have it repaired.”

“What about the confessionary?”

“You can have a new one, father.”

“Our Lord’s picture by the altar is looking pale.”

“I’ll have it painted, father.”

77

“God bless you, my son,” Father Ricardo said.

“Thank you.”

As Homer made a mental note of all the equipment he needed for Father Ricardo’s

evangelical work, Cesar appeared in the shop with some of the sailors. They stepped on the

confetti Amelia had put on the floor.

“Are you getting married to yourself?” they asked.

Homer nodded and they congratulated him.

“It’s a good idea,” they said.

“Hurray to Homer,” they chanted.

While passing a bottle of aguardiente around the room, they looked for Homer’s bride

behind the boxes of merchandise.

“Are you his girl?” they asked Maria.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Dear God,” Father Ricardo said.

Maria took a few slices of cake to the guests around the room, while the sailors eyed her

body.

“You are beautiful,” they said.

“She has a boyfriend,” Homer said.

“You love yourself.”

One of the sailors put the radio on and they danced at the rhythm of salsa, moving their

hands in the air and drinking aguardiente. The sound of the door bell interrupted the party. As

the music stopped, Homer moved along the corridor, followed by Maria.

“Come to see me tonight,” he said.

“You are worse than the sailors.”

“I know.”

On opening the door, Jaramillo appeared with his camera crew and all their equipment.

They had to find somewhere clean and without any cobwebs to film the wedding.
78

“You haven’t greeted us,” Homer said.

“El pais will pay you good money,” Jaramillo said. “And el tiempo.”

“Hurrah to Homer,” everyone said.

They mixed coca leaves with aguardiente, while waiting for the ceremony to start in the

shop.

“We want Maria,” the sailors said.

“You must marry me,” Homer said.

Father Ricardo read parts of the bible, under the sounds of the wedding march, blaring from

a gramophone Homer had bought in the market for a few pesos. The priest talked of Homer’s

commitment to himself until God called him to that place in the sky called heaven.

“I must join this man in matrimony to himself,” Father Ricardo said.

Homer held his own hands, as the priest read passages of the bible and the journalists took

pictures for the world to see. He had to show his love to himself to the world.

“Do you accept yourself as your wife?” Father Ricardo asked.

Homer nodded. “I do.”

“I pronounce you husband and wife,” Father Ricardo said.

Jaramillo recorded the moment for posterity, while everyone congratulated Homer for

choosing such a nice person to spend the rest of his life in harmony. It had been a nice party for

his moment of glory in the market.

“I want to marry you now, Uncle Homer,” Amelia said.

“Congratulations,” Maria said.

“Come to the cellar tonight,” Homer said.

“They might hear you.”

Homer had married himself when Maria didn’t have a boyfriend. Little Amelia’s dolls

married each other and the festivities lasted until the morning, when the cellar had confetti

everywhere.

“It’s the happiest day of my life,” Homer said.

79

“You must start your honeymoon,” they said.

They left with the bottles of aguardiente and some of the confetti in their clothes. Homer

had to start his life as a married man in love with himself.

“You’ll be in the papers tomorrow,” Jaramillo said before leaving.

“Amen,” Father Ricardo said.

“Don’t you want more aguardiente, father?” Homer asked.

“Keep it for some other day.”

They left Homer alone with his hopes and the bottles of aguardiente. Lying down on the

bed, he thought of his life up to that moment, when he wanted to be together with himself for

his own benefit.

“Father mustn’t know I came here,” a voice said.

He saw Maria, looking like an angel of mercy. Her long hair went down her shoulders like a

dark waterfall and her breasts trembled under her blouse.

“Are you real?” Homer asked.

“You chew too much coca,” she said.

Losing himself in her breasts, he calmed his passion, while promising many things for the

whole family if she visited again.

“I’m a virgin,” she said.

She had gone by the morning, leaving her fragrance of cheap perfume all around him.

Businessman marries himself, said in big letters in El Pais and El Tiempo the next day, as

people donated their money to the clever foreigner with the best ideas in the world.
80

The widows

Miguel had to go home to solve a family crisis, leaving Homer all alone with his customers.

A beautiful girl had come in the shop. Wearing dark clothes, her breasts trembled under her

blouse every time she breathed in a vision from heaven.

“Can I help you?” Homer asked.

She didn’t reply, as she looked at the clothes in the corner, the light of the sun showing her

curves through her dress. Homer had ended with women forever, when he had married himself

a few days before and his life had changed beyond any recognition. Then she gestured to a

dark blouse in the counter.

“It’s nice,” she said.

Her voice brought him memories of that other world of trees and hammocks by a river in its

way to eternity, but Kam had gone away some time ago. Muttering to himself, Homer looked

for a few other things she might like to see.

“These dresses would suit you,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You can thank me in other ways.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

They looked at each other, as the clock kept its pace towards the end of time somewhere in

the future. Homer crashed with a display by the door, while admiring her legs under her cheap

skirt. She had to be an angel sent from heaven to enlighten his days in the market.

“I have new merchandise from Paris,” he said.

“That’s a long way away, Mr. Homer.”

“But it’s nice.”

Homer put some clothes on the table, hoping she might buy something in the shop, apart

from his soul. He had black tights the sailors had found somewhere in the Caribbean Sea

amidst the crabs, women and rum.

“The paramilitaries killed my husband,” she said.

81

“I’m sorry,” he said.

As he looked at her face s, he thought of all of those pictures of dead people he had seen in

the papers. This woman disserved her happiness, after all the suffering she must have endured

in her life.

“You remind me of someone,” he said.

“Who is it?”

“She lives in the jungle.

“Stop making fun of me,” she said.

“I’m not.”

Homer tidied the clothes in the counter, hoping he might sell her something, while she

wiped her tears. Women looked more beautiful when they cried for their men amidst the ruins

of their life.

“I have been hungry many times,” she said.

He showed her his thin arms as a sign of solidarity, as he couldn’t understand how she could

go hungry with so much beauty to give to the world.

“I have anorexia,” he said.

“What is that?” she asked.

“I want to starve myself to death.”

“You are rich, Mr. Homer.”

While putting the tights back in the counter, she dropped a few things on the floor, when

Homer had another opportunity of looking at her legs. She could pay him in other ways he

didn’t dare to mention.

“The tights are a present,” he said.

“I don’t want them.”

“Why?” he asked.

Moving along the aisle, she pushed her hair back, s her hips swaying under her flowing skirt

at the rhythm of music.

82

“Wait a minute,” he said

“I have to go back to my children,” she said.

“Children?” he asked.

“I have lots of them.”

The bell rang as she opened the door with delicate hands made rough by scrubbing the floors

and her children’s clothes. She had a beautiful soul, lost amongst all her poverty.

“I’ll see you, Mr. Homer,” she said.

“Wait a minute,” he said.

On hurrying after her, Homer crashed with a woman standing by the counter. Too busy with

the widow, he had not heard her come into the shop a few minutes before.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

The woman held a pink dress with sequels, she must have found somewhere in the counter.

“It costs fifty pesos,” he said.

“I like it, Mr. Homer.”

Looking at the street through the window, Homer saw the girl disappearing amidst the

crowd of shoppers at that time of the morning. She must have been in a hurry to get back to her

starving family in the suburbs.

“She won’t come back,” the woman said.

“Do you know where she lives?” Homer asked.

“In the slums, I suppose.”

As the woman checked some other blouses, Homer thought he had to find the girl, even if

she lived in a hut at the end of time. Widows with many children never had much in life left in

them, apart from debts and misery.

“I’ll give you one hundred pesos for the dress,” the woman interrupted his reverie.

“I’ll be losing money.”

She looked at a few more things in the counter, while Homer studied a map of the slums.

“Would you take her out of the gutter?”She asked.

83

“Yes, I will.”

“I believe you, Mr. Homer,” she said.

“Thank you.”

He wrote down the prices of the skirts in the notebook Maria had given him for his birthday.

He had to earn his money, even if life played funny tricks sometimes.

“I would like a discount for the blouse,” the woman said.

“Give me eighty peso for it,” he said.

“You’re a good man, Mr. Homer.”

Homer thought of the young widow, while wrapping the blouse in a nice paper for the

woman to give someone she treasured.

“My neighbour was attacked last night,” she interrupted his reverie.

She showed him a newspaper full of terrible stories of love and death under the cover of the

shadows. Every day men, women and children appeared dead in the country and nobody cared,

genocide becoming a national industry just as football and politics. Widows with lots of

children were numerous, but no one would help them. Homer’s eyes filled with tears as he had

another ingenious idea.

“We need a miracle to stop the violence,” she said.

“Would you give money to this miracle?” he asked.

“Of course I would.”

Homer felt sorry for the widow and her family, a product of a society gone mad.

“I’ll get more merchandise tomorrow,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. Homer.”

She left him alone with his thoughts of revenge for a young widow living in hell. Homer

saw a bicycle he kept in the shed, good for rescuing women in distress. He would use the pump

Miguel kept in the cellar to put some air in the tyres, as he couldn’t afford an accident in the

slums.
84

Homer is famous

Homer cycled through the poor parts of the city until he found an empty plot of land to build

his houses. Putting the bicycle behind some bushes, he looked at the site full of papers, and

other things, while the smell of the sewage assaulted his senses. Homer thought it might look

different once he had transformed the mess into houses for the poor to lead better lives.

Thinking in his widows, Homer didn’t notice the passage of time or the fact that a shadow

looked at him from the bushes.

As he debated within himself whether a few houses could share a toilet, or the light cables in

order to save money, a child appeared by his side. He had dirty hair and held a bag in his

hands, while looking at him with dark eyes. Homer felt a sense of déjà vu. He must have seen

the urchin begging for money in the city centre or in the market.

“Can I have a coin, mister?” the boy asked.

Putting the bag against his nose, he took a deep breath, while looking at Homer with dark

eyes. He seemed to enjoy the contents of the bag, whatever he kept in there.

“This is good stuff,” he said.

“Is it?” Homer asked.

“You can try it, mister.”

Shaking his head, Homer looked for any lose change he might have after buying the

newspaper that morning. He had to know what people thought of his business ventures, and if

they wanted to contribute to his ideas. Then he found five cents amidst the remains of a

chewing gum and some coca leaves he had put there earlier.

“Thank you, Mister,” the boy said.

After examining the coins with his dirty hands, the child put them in his pocket. He have to

be ten or eleven years old, difficult to tell with all that mud in the face and the rags covering his

body.

“Where is your mother?” Homer asked.

“She died,” the child said.

85

“I’m sorry.”

“Look mister,” the child said. “Give me some more money.”

Homer shook his head. He didn’t have anything else to give the poor orphan, but he might

be helpful in his business enterprise.

“Do you know of any builders around here?” Homer asked.

The boy gestured at the trash, where a few gamines played with a dirty ball while a dog

chased them around the place.

“It’s behind those trees, mister” he said.

Following the child through the path, Homer’s shoes splashed in the water, even though the

rainy season had not come yet. He didn’t know where the child could take him, as the other

children pulled his clothes, where they found a few pesos Homer had taken out of the cash

machine that morning.

“Leave me alone,” he said.

The first boy imitated his accent and manners and his friends laughed.

“Go away,” Homer said.

While trying to get away, he hurt his legs with a few planks of wood someone had thrown in

the garbage as the children laughed. Homer had to go before it got worse but they wouldn’t

leave him alone.

“I’ll give you lots of money,” he said.

“We don’t believe you.”

Homer found some bits of papers, mixed with chewing gum in his pockets, as he had to

think fast, before they did some more naughty things. Straightening his clothes, he looked for

his bicycle behind the bush where no one ever went, but something must have scared the

children or they had got tired of their antiques. He wanted to go back to his shop, even if he

had not found his widow in the slums.

86

Busy with his thoughts, Homer failed to notice a group of men gathering by his side. While

they looked at him with dark eyes full of hate, he thought he must have met them in his waking

dreams of devils in the jungle.

“We must talk,” they said.

“I have nothing to tell you,” Homer said.

Homer’s legs slipped every time he moved in the mud, but he had to get out of the bog fast,

before losing his life to the bad spirits of the slums. He should have never come to this place of

death and desperation.

“I want to build houses around here,” he said.

“You must be deluded,” they said.

They laughed aloud, making him feel nervous.

“Look mister,” one of them said. “What do you really want?”

They found his diary, and the tablets the doctor had given him inside his bag with a few

other things Homer had packed for his adventure.

“We don’t want your medicine,” they said.

On checking the contents of his bag, they found the sandwiches Miguel had put that

morning, while bits of tomato and lettuce fell at their feet.

“It must be his lunch,” they said.

As they opened a bottle of juice, each one of them drank a bit of the reddish liquid full of

vitamins for Homer’s busy life.

“You should have brought aguardiente,” they said.

“I didn’t know.”

“You know nothing.”

Homer didn’t want to finish his days buried in the bog at the edge of the city, when he had to

conquer the world. They had to be the pigs from hell in the slums.

“I’ll call the police,” he said.

“Don’t you want your houses?”

87

Leading him along the street, they took him to an empty plot full of rubbish, where broken

toys mixed with dirty nappies. Homer didn’t know what they wanted in such a horrible place.

“It won’t look like this when we build your houses,” they said.

Kicking the mud about, they cleared a bit of the trash, leaving the earth glistening under the

sun. Then they started digging at the dirt until they had made a hole big enough to bury

someone inside it.

“No,” said Homer.

“Yes,” they said.

The first man put a handful of dirt by his face, while the others threw mud on his head with

their spades. It was like a dream, where the most horrible things happen in a weird world of

monsters.

“Help,” Homer said.

“Will you hire us?” they asked.

“You are not builders,” Homer said.

“Yes, we are.”

Homer hoped they would leave him alone, but they kept on laughing.

“This will be their floor,” they said.

Homer shrugged. “It’s mud.”

“The children will love it,” they said.

“We’ll get cheap materials from the streets,” they said.

“That’s stealing,” Homer said.

“It will cost you more money then.”

Sighing, Homer heard how they would start their work before the rains turned the slums into

a river bigger than the Amazon, where everyone might drown. He didn’t want the young

widow to die if he found her again.

“Nobody cares about poor people,” they said.

“I do,” Homer said.

88

“You must have your own reasons.”

After writing down the price of a few things they needed in a piece of paper, one of the men

handed it to Homer. They charged the basic for anything they stole from other sites and

whatever they found in the street.

“This is our office,” they said.

“Your office?” Homer asked.

“We can’t afford anything else.”

Homer thought the poor people would waddle in the crap they had known all their lives,

when he had built the houses. He couldn’t see the electric cables, water pipes or any other

amenities of the modern world.

“What about the toilets?” he asked.

“They can go outside.”

“That’s not very clean.”

“Poor people don’t care about anything.”

On following them through the mud, Homer saw men loading bricks into a truck. They had

to use them to build their houses. As he stepped in the dirt, his feet slipped in the ground once

more, threatening to throw him on the floor.

“I want to find a widow,” Homer said.

“Do you want widows?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll get them for you,” they said.

“It’s a deal.”

“We’ll provide you with the houses and the widows, Mr. Homer.”

Homer imagined his houses full of families in the realm of garbage and rats, while the

builders talked of their work in the slums. They had to prepare the soil for the walls and the

bogs for the children to play with the rats.

“We’ll build them in seven days,” they said.

89

“That’s good,” Homer said.

“You must trust us.”

90

Homer attends a party

The inhabitants of the slums admired the young entrepreneur and as Journalists heard of the

widow’s helper, Homer became more famous than Saint Francis of Assize. The papers spoke

of the five chalets destined to redeem the widows of the violence. He tried to answer all the

questions about his housing scheme, while visiting the site where the workers dag mud from the

river. No one else cared about the women’s suffering in the city.

“We admire you,” they said. “First you marry yourself and now you help the widows.”

“I have many talents,” Homer said.

Jaramillo took Homer’s picture talking to the women and smiling at the children. A woman

spoke to the national papers, while cuddling her baby for the entire country to see.

“Homer’s like a father to us,” she said with tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” he said.

Homer smelled her essence of baby powder and cologne as she hugged him for some time,

and the child wriggled in her arms, a vision of heaven on earth.

“I could be in the gutter,” she said.

“Hurrah to Homer,” they said.

She made him frantic with desire, while leaving a stale smell in the air. He got ready to

answer more questions for the nation, after disentangling himself from her arms.

“I want to help the women,” he said.

“Hurrah to Homer,” they said.

Homer showed them the picture of a family living rough at the edge of the town, before

moving to his housing project.

“They needed somewhere to live,” he said.

“What about the rubble?”A journalist asked.

“The workmen will take it away,” Homer said.

“I hope so.”
91

The sewers stunk in the middle of the day, as Homer tried to keep the press happy. He had

to get money for his project of love. The equipment had been nearly free with the exception of

the time the workmen had been caught stealing from a building site, and he had to pay for the

police to release them from prison.

“People will give you money,” Jaramillo said.

“When will it be?”

“I’ll think of something.”

Homer smiled, as the children had fun, and their mothers spoke about the most important

day in their lives, when the press wanted to help them all. Then a car arrived at the site and

stopped by the huts.

“It must be the bishop,” Jaramillo said.

“The bishop?” Homer asked.

A short man wearing a long gown left the vehicle, while a few other men followed him out

of the car. Lifting their gowns, they went across the field full of puddles left by the rain. They

had to hold each other to steady themselves in the mud, before reaching the place where Homer

waited with the journalists.

“Are you all right, Excellency?” Jaramillo asked.

Regaining his balance, the bishop nodded. “I want to see Homer.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Excellency,” Homer said.

As the bishop stretched his hands, Homer didn’t know whether he had to kiss the expensive

ring the man had in his little finger. It had to be worth lots of money.

“We have brought a few families from the street, Excellency” Homer said.

“That’s very good,” the bishop said.

“They are building some more houses over there,” Homer gestured at an empty space, where

a few shadows hid behind a wall.

“They didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Homer said.

“I understand.”
92

Moving through the darkness, his Excellency managed to go down amidst the dirt, where a

woman with two children shivered in the mud.

“Come here,” the bishop said.

Moving amidst the pools of stagnant water, he led them towards one of the houses, as the

cameras flashed, recording the moment for posterity.

“We were afraid,” she said.

“Homer wants to help you,” the bishop said.

“Thank you,” she said.

“God loves you,” the bishop said.

He blessed her in the name of the father, the son and the Holy Spirit, while she knelt down

on the floor. She had to trust God’s representative on earth, who would try to help her in the

slums.

“My children will thank you, Excellency,” she said.

“Their lives will change forever.”

“I hope so, Excellency.”

Homer waited while the bishop blessed her a few times and she muttered a holy Mary to our

God. As the bishop finished, Homer told him all about his labour of love amidst the poor and

destitute of the city.

“I must save them,” Homer said.

“I’ll see what I can do.” The bishop said.

“Thank you, Excellency.”

The woman they had found in the gutter looked at them from one of the huts, as he bishop

checked the site full of children and mud. Checking the materials left by one of the houses, he

counted the bricks left for the construction of another hut very similar to the others.

“God will thank you for this,” he said.

“Will I go straight to heaven, Excellency?” Homer asked.

The bishop nodded. “You’ll sit next to Saint Peter up there.”

93

“I’m glad,” Homer said.

The bishop sprinkled holy water on his head as the cameras flashed, and the country

followed the events in the first radio station in the city. Homer remained with his head down,

the water absolving his sins forever.

“You’re Apostle Homer now,” the bishop said.

“Thank you, Excellency.”

The cameras flashed, as the bishop muttered a few words in Latin while pouring more holy

water on his head. Homer hoped the bishop would do more to help his mission on earth or he

might not have enough money for the poor.

“I’m grateful for all your help, Excellency,” Homer said.

The bishop smiled. “God has chosen you to help his flock.”

Homer admired the bishop, a man of integrity battling to save humankind amidst all the

problems of the world. As the photographers’ flashes disturbed his thoughts, a girl knelt in

front of him, her hair falling on her face.

“Homer is our benefactor, Excellency,” she said.

“I know,” the bishop said.

Helping her to her feet, he offered her his ring, the best thing after the Holy Communion and

Christ’s blood. On kissing it, the woman crossed herself, while mumbling a prayer to Jesus in

the cross and his apostles.

“I’ll teach you in the church tomorrow,” the bishop said.

“Thank you Excellency,” she said.

He read a few pages from the bible, hoping to cleanse her soul from the impurities of the

world. Homer wished women idolised him as they loved the bishop, God’s representative on

earth.

“Congratulations, Apostle Homer,” Jaramillo said.

Homer smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t you have to be canonised after your death?”

94

“The bishop should know about that,” Homer said.

“It might not be legal.”

“God won’t mind,” Homer said.

Jaramillo showed them the latrines the workmen had made for the families to use in the

backyard. They were smelly amidst the flies and the rats, inhabiting the place. The band’s

music drowned Jaramillo’s words, as the bishop found a paper in one of his pockets.

“I have written a letter,” he said. “Shall I read it?”

“Yes, Excellency,” Homer said.

“Dear children,” the bishop said.

“Our flock has been invaded by the wolves the scriptures talk about as atheists and sinners

try to lead astray the herd God has given me.

“You have witnessed my efforts to kill those wolves, but it seems as if the earth throws them

out in big numbers every day. These atheists are the antichrists the scriptures talk about but

hell will teach them a lesson they’ll never forget.

“Assassins without any faith kill men, women and children. Our churches have been filled

by orphans and poor widows who ask the heavens for retaliation but God will punish the

sinners just as he did the Egyptian children.

“You must be afraid of his anger and repent of your sins. If the Devil appears from the

abyss the angels can also come from heaven. God hasn’t abandoned us yet.

“A foreigner called Homer has dedicated his life to help the widows and orphans of the

violence. We mustn’t let our angel alone, as we need the solidarity of God’s people to win over

darkness and we want your charity to erase the most despicable sins against these poor people.

“I’m asking you to send money to our Episcopal palace. You must forget material interests

that won’t serve in our present life, as this is a temporal place before our real country up in

heaven or down in hell for sinners. Perhaps they didn’t help their poor brothers or sisters.
95

“You’ll have God’s blessing for every million pesos you give to Homer for his mission on

earth.

His Highness, Pomponio, bishop of the city.

The letter had a good effect. Homer received many times the money he had spent in the

houses in the next few days, even if the bishop kept some of it, and he had to reprimand a few

priests who wanted a percentage of the earnings. Jaramillo kept some money to keep the press

quiet about the lack of toilets and other things in the widow’s housing. In the pictures they

took, Homer gazed at the distance, as if looking at God’s face instead of a million pesos. The

mystical breakdowns of Saint Theresa might give us an idea of Homer’s face before the

cameras.

The citizens filled millions of petitions asking for social solidarity as the governor with all

his cabinet marched to the Widow’s Houses. They failed to notice the absence of toilets, water

or electricity.
96

Amelia’s wishes

On opening his eyes to the light of a new day, Homer remembered the banquet he had to

attend that afternoon to celebrate the widow’s housing, and a chance of getting more money for

his charity. The women had brought him lots of luck even if he had to endure boring people,

talking about his charity nearly every day. Getting his notebook from the table, Homer

examined all the money he had made in the last few weeks. He had thousands of pesos in his

bank account plus all the interest he had earned during the years. On looking at his image in

the mirror, his green eyes looked back at him. He had to practice for his lecture in the library

that afternoon to convince his audience to give him more money, as Miguel appeared by his site

followed by Amelia.

“Good morning, Mr. Homer” they greeted.

Miguel poured orange juice in a glass, after putting a tray with the breakfast on the table.

“You must eat now, Uncle Homer,” the child said.

Homer ate the yolk, full of nutrients and good for his health, if he wanted to keep on earning

his money.

“I saw your picture in the paper, Uncle Homer,” Amelia said.

She showed him the paper they had bought in their way to the shop. Homer attends a

banquet today, it said across the front page of El Pais, where the governor and other

personalities had been campaigning to raise money for the widow’s housing.

“Have you found your widow?” Miguel asked.

Homer shrugged. “No.”

Amelia followed the letters with her fingers, her eyes widening when she saw the amounts

of money promised by some people to the cause.

“You are rich, Uncle Homer,” she said.

“That’s the widow’s money,” Miguel said.

Homer needed the money for his labour of love amidst the poor, as Amelia marched around

the room at the rhythm of imaginary music.

97

“She wants to join the army,” Miguel said.

Homer had been thinking of the widows and his words didn’t make much sense, when the

child could study to be a lawyer of an accountant. She had enough brains to make lots of

money in a few years time.

“I’ll pay for your university,” Homer said. “The army is for men.”

Sitting in his only chair, he discussed her education while Miguel checked the boxes of coca

stored against the wall. She had to learn how to conquer the world like he had done.

“The army is the best university,” Amelia said.

She marched around the shop while shouting instructions to her troops of invisible people.

“One, two, one two,” she said.

“It must be her age,” Miguel said.

“I hope so.”

Homer thought of the few lines he had to read in the banquet, even though he couldn’t write

much. He had to convince people of his intentions towards the poor women, needing a lot of

help to live normal lives.

“This is my speech for the banquet,” Homer said holding the paper. “I am the apostle of the

oppressed, bringing hope to the world…”

Stopping her march around the shop, Amelia listened to his words. One day she’d

remembered everything as the world collapsed around her in an explosion of colours.

“I like it, Uncle Homer,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said

On looking at his reflection in the mirror, Homer pushed his hair back while thinking of his

moment of glory. Rich people had to help the widows in the slums. He arranged his clothes,

while practicing his best face to get his money.

“I’ll make the world a better place,” he said.

“Yes, Mr. Homer,” Miguel said.

“One, two, one, two,” Amelia said.

98

Homer got ready while Amelia commanded a troupe of invisible people around the shop.

Then the child looked at the numbers Homer had written in the diary, after counting his money.

“You are rich, Uncle Homer,” she said.

“Two and two are seven,” Homer said.

Amelia shook her head. “Two and two are four and everyone knows that, Uncle Homer.”

“I see,” Homer said.

She marched around the kitchen, while Homer combed his hair back in front of the mirror.

He had to appeal to the people of the town, if he wanted them to part with their money. Trying

his best smile, Homer got ready for the lecture of his life.

“You’ll be late for your party,” Miguel said.

“Can I come?” Amelia asked.

“It’s for adults,” Miguel said.

On finishing his cup of tea, Homer checked his clothes didn’t have any spots. He had to

look nice in the best day of his life, when he would have to convince the world to give him

money. Putting his notes in his bag, he got ready to leave the shop.

“Good luck, Uncle Homer,” Amelia said.

“Think of the money you’ll have,” Miguel said.

As someone knocked at the door, Homer had a last look at himself in the big mirror in the

corridor. A little man wearing a uniform stood by a car.

“I come to take you to the party,” he said.

“Look for the shadows, Uncle Homer,” Amelia said.

“What shadows?” he asked.

99

The banquet

“We were waiting for you, Mr. Homer,” a young woman said in the town hall.

As she took him along the aisle, Homer felt the eyes of the public following his journey to

the podium. He wanted to run away back to his shop but he needed more money.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the governor said. “Here we have the apostle of the poor."

“Hurrah to Homer,” people said.

Homer waited for the applause to die down, before looking at an old bible the governor had

brought. He didn’t like reading in front of the public, but he opened it in the beginning, when

God had made so many things in a short time.

“Our father who art in heaven,” Homer said. “Hollowed be thy name.”

“Thy kingdom will come,” the governor said.

“Amen,” people said.

Homer didn’t know what else to say to the audience. He had never prayed in his life, as his

parents had forgotten their religion after arriving in the country. Moving backwards, he crashed

with a table, some of the papers falling on the floor.

“I’m not feeling well,” he said.

The governor smiled. “It’s all right, Mr. Homer.”

The governor gave him a glass of water, and as a woman collected money from the

audience, Homer heard the noise the coins made inside the tin. He watched the woman making

her way along the hall, getting lots of money for his cause. Feeling strange, he found himself

back in the jungle, where the drums went on forever and the Indians waited for his head.

“Mister Homer,” a voice said.

On opening his eyes, Homer saw the governor, holding a handkerchief full of cologne on his

nose.

“You fainted, Mr. Homer,” he said.

Homer remained in his seat with the handkerchief over his nose for a few moments, when

nice senoritas served the food to the crowd. The beauty queen of Colombia, the queen of the
100

potato, the yucca, the corn, the banana, the pea, the pumpkin, the yucca bread, the tamales, the

guarapo, and a hundred more beauties moved around the hall with their trays. They left a bowl

filled with boiling water and cold bread for the sum of one thousands of pesos in front of each

one of the guests attending the festivities. Mingling with the journalists writing about the

event, rich people hoped that God would absolve their past sins and those still to come.

“Are you feeling better?” the governor asked.

“I think so,” Homer said.

“You must eat with us, Mr. Homer.”

Then Homer had his soup, accompanied by a bit of bread, while trying to ignore the insipid

taste. Jaramillo appeared by his side with a big camera. Having promised Homer to take lots

of pictures for the papers, he made ready his equipment on the floor.

“The food’s worth the money,” Jaramillo said.

Homer didn’t want to say anything else about the food giving him so much money, as a

beautiful young woman, dressed in a golden gown, stopped by his side.

“Mr. Homer,” she said. “Can I kiss your hand?”

“Yes, of course,” he said.

She left it full of tears and saliva, as a few more girls waited in line to kiss him. The Curuba

Queen left a sweet taste in his lips, while the Papaya one wouldn’t stop her lingering kiss,

leaving Homer exhausted.

“Thank you,” he said, when she finished.

“I love you,” she smiled.

Homer tasted the lipstick she had bought in the market, as some more girls wanted to

congratulate him, and by the time the pineapple queen sat in his lap, Homer had been aroused

enough to forget his mission on earth.

“Can I see you later?” he asked.

“I have to attend a beauty pageant tonight,” she said.

“I’ll make you win,” he said.

101

“Thank you, Mr. Homer.”

As she stood up, another girl took her place, keeping Homer warm under her hips. He

wanted to take her to a dark corner, as she wriggled in his lap.

“I’ll give you money for sleeping with me,” Homer said.

“What?” she asked.

A girl pushed her out of the way, sitting on Homer’s lap.

“It’s my turn now,” the coffee queen said, her breasts trembling under her gown.

“Are you a virgin?” Homer asked.

“Of course I am,” the girl said.

“You must prove it tonight then,” Homer said.

“We have collected two million pesos,” a voice interrupted the conversation.

“Hurrah,” everyone said.

People in the restaurant sobbed as radio audiences cried. The readers of the newspapers

cried the next day and the poor widows wept, as Homer shed tears of happiness. He was a

genius. Although he made enough cash to build a city filled with poor widows, he needed the

money for his projects. Five more huts joined the others while some young and pretty widows

who liked the bishop, went to live there. Homer had never earned so much and so quickly, but

he had to think of himself first.

102

Tragedy

Jealousy reigned in heavens as they heard of Homer’s good work, bad angels opened the

gates of rain over the city and the poor inhabitants of the slums suffered more than anyone else.

A few widows and orphans drowned but the newspapers called it a calamity of nature. God

takes away innocent lives, the headlines said as the victims’ pictures appeared under the titles.

They spoke of the women’s bravery while confronting the elements in their homes. The

wooden coffins would be lowered into the ground later that day without any ceremony.

Homer had been barking the night before and felt tired, and as he heard someone knocking

at the door, he thought Miguel had forgotten his keys or the coca delivery had arrived.

Standing at the door, Jaramillo held the morning paper.

“The rain has wiped all the houses,” He said as soon as they went inside the shop.

Homer sat on his bed. Having helped the women to better their lives, he blamed nature for

their misfortune. God had forgotten to help his best son or the devil liked him

“They were so full of life,” he said.

Jaramillo showed him the paper with the full story of the tragedy. The women had been

sleeping when the rain water had overflowed the sewers, drowning them while they slept. The

survivors talked of their children dying in front of their eyes, as a woman tried to bring her dead

baby back to life.

“The place is a mess,” Jaramillo said. “The rest of the families have been housed in the

church for the moment.”

Homer nodded. “That is a relief.”

The picture of the priest holding one of the children had been displayed by the major papers.

Homer remembered the day when the orchestra had played and the children had been very

happy.

“How much do you want?” Homer asked.

“A few thousand pesos,” Jaramillo said.

Homer wrote down something in a check, before putting it on the table.

103

“Thank you,” Jaramillo said.

“It’s terrible,” Homer said.

“Let’s forget about that,” Jaramillo said.

Money bought everything in life, even if people died in the world. Homer made a cup of tea

as Jaramillo read about the widows God had entrusted in his care, but the heavens had killed

with the rain.

“They battled to save one of the toddlers in the hospital,” Jaramillo said.

He showed Homer some more pictures of the women waddling in the dirt, and of a baby

wrapped in a sheet. That had to be the young victim the journalist had described in the paper.

“They don’t have anywhere else to go,” Jaramillo said.

“I’ll build new houses,” Homer said.

“It’s a good idea,” Jaramillo said.

“Can you drive me to the builders?”

“Fine.”

Getting his wallet once more, Homer followed the journalist along the corridor. He didn’t

want to see Miguel at that time of the morning. After getting in the car, they drove along the

market, where pictures of the victims adorned a few of the shop windows. Jaramillo stopped

the car by a small house and a little dog barked showing its teeth.

“I think he’s harmless,” Jaramillo said.

“I hope so.”

A man chewed his nails behind the counter, as they went inside the place. Pictures of

houses adorned the walls, while a few books lay on a table. They had advanced a lot since the

last time Homer had spoken to them amidst the mess.

“Mr. Homer,” a man said. “I’m glad to see you again.”

“I had a shock when I read the papers this morning,” the man said. “They didn’t stand a

chance against the elements.”

“I want you to build more houses,” Homer said.

104

“Are they for the widows?”

“You must work fast before the rains come,” Homer said.

“We’ll do that Mr. Homer.”

Homer had to sign a form before they began working on the site. The man searched for

something in a draw, putting some files on the table. Then he held a pink paper close to his

face, before finding his glasses.

“You still owe us $l26, 000 from the last houses we built, Mr. Homer.”

Putting the form on the table, the man gestured to his notebook amongst Homer’s

consternation.

“I want one thousand pesos in advance plus all the interest,” the man said.

“You are a bad boy,” Homer said.

“I need my money.”

The widow’s charity would repay Homer as they had done before. On opening his wallet,

he counted the pesos on the counter, before laying them in neat rows.

“It’s for a good cause, Mr. Homer.”

The man chewed his nails again before counting the money on his desk. Writing down the

amount in his book, he looked at the numbers again.

“You must use bricks this time,” Homer said.

“It will cost you more, Mr. Homer.”

“Forget about it then.”

“Do you want the houses to have floors?”

“They can sweep the dust every morning,” Homer said.

The man gave him the receipt for the money he had paid, and the widow’s society would

refund him again. He needed the cash to help the meek and destitute to find shelter. Homer

had been born under the shadow of the sun, the Indians had disappeared in the jungle and now

the widows had drowned because of the rains. It had to be his bad star or the dark sun.
105

Leaving the engineer’s office, Homer saw the slums full of life, where the memory of the

women’s pain survived.

“I must go,” Jaramillo said. “Good luck with your new project.”

“Thank you.”
106

Alicia

A woman waited when Homer arrived at his shop.

“I’m Alicia,” she said.

Homer shook hands with the stranger.

“You have been nominated for a medal for your work amongst the poor,” she said. “The

ceremony will take place tomorrow morning in the library.”

As she spoke of his good work amongst the poor and oppressed because he was the apostle

of the destitute, Homer watched her breasts trembling through her dress.

“The rains killed the widows,” she said.

“I know,” Homer said.

She must have read the papers blaming the weather for the tragedy that had shaken the

nation. Holding her handbag, she looked at the mess on the floor.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Homer asked.

“Thank you, Mr. Homer,” she said.

Sitting down amidst the merchandise littering the room, Alicia looked like one of those

Hollywood stars he had seen in the local cinema. Crossing her legs, she showed him a bit of

her hips and her pants.

“The widows need you, Mr Homer,” she said.

He nodded. “This tragedy is killing me.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Mr. Homer.”

She sent shivers down Homer’s nervous system, but he tried to calm down, while

extinguishing the demons of sin in his soul.

“I work to earn a living,” Homer said.

“I understand.”

“Do you?” he asked.

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As he moved closer to her, her eyes looked darker under the glare of the bulb. Homer

wanted to hug this woman sent by God to his world full of problems. Lifting her skirt, he

revealed more of her hips, her frilly pants welcoming him to paradise, but Alicia screamed.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You must control yourself, Mr. Homer.”

“Miguel won’t know anything.”

“Who?” she asked.

“He’s my employee.”

He held her hands, while kissing her mouth, his tongue searching for hers. As Homer

sucked her nipples amidst the bags of coca, she prayed to the saints in the sky.

“Mr. Homer,” she said. “I don’t usually sleep with men I don’t know.”

Homer stopped his attack, her words acting like a barrier to his passion. Crossing herself,

she covered her pretty legs with her skirt, trying to erase all traces of her sins to the world.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I might call the police,” she said.

“It won’t happen again.”

Brushing her hair, she looked at her reflection in the mirror while checking a mark she had in

her neck.

“Oh, my God,” she said.

“No one will notice it,” Homer said.

She put some powder on the blemish, good for hiding the marks of sin. He had not done

anything wrong, apart from biting her neck.

“Do you want to use the toilet?” he asked.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Homer,” she said.

“Don’t mention this to anyone.”

“I won’t,” she said.

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Taking her handbag, she moved amongst the bags of coca Miguel had left there in the

morning, before moving across the shop where Miguel served a customer. Homer had to

contact Jaramillo about the Indians. After leaving a message with his secretary, Homer found

the manuscripts in his safe, where the suns stared at him amidst all the jargon. He remembered

Kam running away from him.

“Where are you?” Homer asked.

A squirrel looked at him from the branches of the tree, as if wondering about his sorrow.

The phone rang in the kitchen, as he scratched his legs with the rubble strewn about the place.

Homer heard Alicia’s voice at the end of the line.

“Mr. Homer,” she said. “We’ll come to collect you tomorrow morning.”

Homer thanked her, before putting the phone down.

The woman had forgotten about his advances earlier on. She had to be one of those strong

women, who didn’t care about the opposite sex, but Homer had to look nice for another

moment of glory. He practiced talking in front of the mirror a few times, when he imagined the

public ovation, his eyes filling with tears. Everything in his life had been arranged by a God,

leading him through all the obstacles in his way. First he made him fly to the dollar bill, and

then Cesar had met him at the dock. Homer wondered if his present business venture had not

been planned in advanced to make him the richest man on earth.

“Thank you,” Homer said to no one in particular, raising his eyes to the sky, where his

benefactor might live.

He heard the rumble of thunder, echoing outside, as rain fell over the world. Everything had

a purpose in his life, where the passage of time led him towards the end of everything.
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The library

Alicia appeared later, wearing her best dress and smelling of cologne. She had to be looking

for pleasure in Homer’s life cycle.

“Mr. Homer,” she said.

“Don’t talk,” he said.

He kissed her mouth, the taste of her lipstick staying in his tongue as they rolled on the

floor, getting cobwebs in the hair. Then he lost himself in her breasts, the smell of cologne

assaulting his senses, her hands touching his body.

“They’re waiting for us,” she said.

“He wants us to mate,” he said.

“You must be mad.”

As he helped her to her feet, Homer saw a shadow looking at them from beyond the door. It

had to be Miguel checking on them, but it had disappeared when Homer looked again.

Everything had to follow a design in his life, but this woman wouldn’t understand that.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Leading him along the corridor, she opened the door, the glare of the sun hurting his eyes.

Then he saw her car waiting by the corner. Moving down the street, she went past the butcher

selling his beef and sausages.

“You must forget me,” she said.

“Forever?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Homer didn’t know why women kept on playing with his feelings, if God protected him

against all evil. Then she opened the door of a ford, waiting on the other side of the road.

“Good morning, Mr. Homer,” the chauffer greeted.

Homer went inside the back of the car, wondering what to say to all the strangers gathered in

the town hall. He had to get to their feelings, if the God guiding him through life deserted him

at that moment. His hands brushing against hers, as their eyes met.
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“I’m nervous,” he said.

Alicia smiled. “Don’t worry.”

“Can I see you tonight then?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Mr. Homer,” she said. “You must stop harassing me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have said that many times.”

“I mean it now.”

Getting closer to her, Homer felt lost in the world of his senses, while people moved down

the streets, ignoring her rejection. Homer had more important things to consider in his life, as

she drove in silence, letting him suffer the humiliation forever. Everyone applauded as they

entered the town hall later.

“Here is our saint apostle,” Alicia said.

She passed Homer the microphone amongst cheers from the audience.

“We have gathered here today,” Homer said. “To commemorate those brothers and sisters

who lost their lives in a calamity of nature. They will go straight to heaven, because the meek

and the poor are welcome in his kingdom.”

The audience cheered but Homer felt dizzy. He passed the microphone to Alicia while

mumbling something.

“Our apostle doesn’t feel well,” she said.

Homer sat down as she about how he had suffered after the widows died.

“We give Apostle Homer a cheque for a few thousand dollars to build more houses,” she

said.

Homer accepted the cheque with tears in his eyes while people in the audience cried. He left

the auditorium in jubilation amidst the flashes of the cameras.

“Thank you,” he muttered. “God loves you.”

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A shadow looked at him from the door, waiting for the seven minutes. Then Alicia brought

him an alka seltzer, her hands taking his temperature.

“Are you all right, Mr. Homer?” she asked.

“You must help me,” Homer said.

“Come to the shop tonight.”

“I can’t have anything with you, Mr. Homer.”

“Why not?”

I love God.”

Looking at her, Homer felt anger rising in his chest. He wanted to have this woman now or

he might live another day before he went crazy.

“I need someone to help me look after the money,” he said.

Homer went to the podium, where he thanked the audience for the money, while thanking

the God looking after his life, even if Alicia didn’t want him.

“I cry in bed every night, as I remember the victims of the weather,” he said.

“We understand, Mr. Homer,” someone said.

Alicia held his hands, while he sobbed in front of the audience and the reporters reported his

breakdown to the nation.

“We’ll help you to rebuild the slums,” they said.

“Thank you,” he said.

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Houses for the widows

Homer had shown the world who he was and the results had been magnificent. He had the

respect of most people in town, who had blamed the tragedy on the weather. Miguel had

brought little Amelia to the shop that day. The child played with her dolls as her father worked

and Homer checked his money in the safe. He would take it to the bank later on.

“You’re very rich, Uncle Homer,” she said.

Homer showed her the coin he kept in a box amongst his money. Uncle Hugh’s present had

survived the test of time, and after cleaning it with a cloth, he put it on the table amongst the

remnants of his breakfast and other bits of rubbish. With the face of Simon Bolivar on a side

and the number one in the other, the coin looked smart, even if it didn’t have much value.

Throwing it up in the air, Homer let it fall on the floor by the bags of coca.

“Two and two are seven,” he said and Amelia laughed.

“You’re funny, Uncle Homer,” she said. “When will you marry yourself again?”

Homer put the money back in the safe as the child ran around the place. He had to check the

work the builders had done over the last few days. Marching around the shop, Amelia went

past the cash machine Homer had bought second hand in the market.

“One, two, one, two,” she said.

Then she saluted him military style, her dark eyes looking serious.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked.

“I watch the soldiers practicing in the streets, Uncle Homer.”

“Where?”

“They train for the mountains.”

Wondering why they trained in the streets, Homer combed his hair, getting ready to go to

the widow’s housing, as new families would move to the new premises during the next few

days.

“Can I have your coin, Uncle Homer?” she asked.

“You might lose it.”

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“I won’t.”

“You’ll inherit it one day,” he said.

“When will it be?”

“I don’t know.”

After putting it back in the safe, he got ready to go to the widow’s housing at the other side

of the market. He needed the cash to reinforce the houses against the elements.

“Can I come with you, Uncle Homer?” Amelia asked.

Homer shook his head. She could catch an illness amongst the people of the slums.

“You have to help me in the shop,” Miguel said.

Holding the notebook her father used for the sales, she wrote her name in big letters adding

a few dots and commas to make it look better. Homer had promised to pay for her schooling,

hoping she might follow in his footsteps.

“Uncle Homer,” she said. “I can write a whole prayer.”

Homer smiled. “That’s very good.”

“Saint Peter will take me to heaven.”

“I see.”

She stepped on all the rubbish on the floor, commanding an invisible troop of soldiers to

follow her around the house, because she had to conquer the world. The clocked chimed in the

shop, as Homer held his bag in the way to the slums

“I’ll see you later,” he said.

On leaving the shop, he moved amidst the customers buying things in the market, the sounds

of music echoing around him, as people sold their products in the heat of the day.

“Mr. Homer,” someone said. “How are the widows?”

“They’re fine,” he said.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”
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A few men unloaded boxes full of merchandise from a big truck, with the name of el

Baratillo on the side. His trucks had made him a wealthy man, by selling their merchandise

around the region. As a woman knelt on the pavement, Homer thought she had gone mad.

“You are our apostle,” she said.

“Thank you.”

Kissing his hands, she left them full of saliva, as people crowded around him. They wanted

to see their benefactor visiting their homes, even if the rains had caused havoc amongst them.

Nature liked to punish people in the most severe way ever imagined.

“Will you see the widows today?” they asked.

“I’m in a hurry,” Homer said.

Homer went on his way, a trail of people following him, while muttering prayers to the

almighty. He should have called a taxi, even if they charged lots of money. Hurrying along the

road, he got lost behind the shops, a few dogs growling at him behind the dustbins. After

moving along a street, he arrived at the slums, his feet sinking in the mud every time he walked.

“Hurrah to Homer,” people chanted.

Children dressed in rugs surrounded him as the new homes looked dirty and smelly but the

poor didn’t mind anything. A man dressed in overalls went down a ramp, his boots splashing

on puddles on the floor of hell.

“Mr. Homer,” he said. “We have finished some of the huts.”

“That’s good,” Homer said.

Lading him inside one of them, he showed Homer a part of the project. The biggest hut had

two rooms plus a small kitchen for the families to cook their meals with water brought from the

river. The workmen had built cisterns in the backyards of a few houses while the sewer ran

through a channel in the street, a picture of hell on earth.

“We need thousands pesos to make the river safe,” the man said.

“I will think about it,” Homer said.

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On arriving at the place where the river had burst its banks a few weeks before, the men

remained silent, as the journalists appeared with their cameras.

“We are sorry about the tragedy,” they said.

“The rains killed them,” Homer said.

“We know.”

Wearing overalls over his fine clothes, Jaramillo led him to one of the huts, where the

children crowded around them.

“We want to take some pictures,” the journalist said.

“That will cost you some money.”

“How much?” Jaramillo asked.

“Thousands of pesos.”

Homer posed with the surviving children, while smiling at their mothers in the pictures. He

wanted to see them afterwards.

“The houses are reinforced with concrete now,” he said.

“That’s very good, Mr. Homer.”

The cameras flashed and the sun shone in the sky in the worst day in Homer’s life, but then

a woman appeared by his side, the cameras filming her every move.

“Thank you, Mr. Homer,” she said.

“We love you,” everyone said.

They kept on filming as lightning crisscrossed the sky and the wind rushed by his side but

the rain stayed away for the moment.

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The widow’s business

The widow’s business didn’t just give cash but it generated great publicity, benefiting

Homer’s smuggled goods and taxes. He had asked the deprived mothers to sign documents.

Most of them couldn’t read or didn’t want to know why they had to sign. He stood next to the

children as the women scribbled something under a few pages of legal language.

“Would you like to eat with us, Mr. Homer?” they asked.

Afraid of catching a disease, Homer toyed with the idea for a few moments. He had to show

the nation what a kind man he was.

“It would be an honour to be your guest,” he said.

On following her into a house, he saw a table in a corner of the room, surrounded by boxes.

They must have found it amidst the rubbish somewhere in the city. Homer tried to avoid the

mud on the floor, as he sat on a box by one of the beds.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked.

“Thank you,” he said.

As she talked of her wonderful home, sheltering her against the elements, her children

poured water out of a bucket in the adjacent room, but it might cost lots of money for Homer to

bring the water to their homes from the city aqueduct.

“I’m sorry about the tragedy,” he said.

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Mr. Homer.”

“God will help you now.”

“I know, Mr. Homer.”

The woman chatted about her family. Her oldest child went to the nearby school but the

little ones stayed at home, helping her to clear the mud and feeding the rabbit they had.

“Do you have a rabbit?” Homer asked.

“The woman smiled. “It’s really a rat my children rescued from the sewer.”
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Looking at the wriggling rodent a baby held in his hands, Homer wanted to run away from

there but she had to sign the forms. As he put the papers on the table, a young girl appeared

with a few cups on a tray.

“You must have your coffee t, Mr. Homer,” the woman said.

Nodding, Homer accepted the cup she offered him, hoping the hot water had killed all of the

germs.

“I put a spoon of sugar in it,” she said.

“Thank you.”

Holding the cup in one hand and the papers in the other, Homer thought of the best excuse to

run away from there before he died of cholera or dysentery. Sipping his coffee, he heard of the

trauma after the rains had come.

“I didn’t lose any of my children, Mr. Homer.”

“Thank God,” Homer said.

“My eldest daughter woke me up.”

Homer nodded. “That’s very good.”

“The divine providence must have been with us that night, Mr. Homer.”

As the rodent ran between his legs, Homer threw his papers on the floor in a panic, in case it

had rabies.

“He’s fine Mr. Homer,” the woman said.

Looking at all the mess on the floor, he wondered how the women had brought so much

rubbish to their new homes. Then he made ready the pen for her to sign or put a cross in the

paper, if she didn’t know how to do it. After waiting for a few moments, the woman returned

with the child trailing behind her.

“I have found another one,” he said.

Homer saw the rodent looking at him from the boy’s hands.

“Doesn’t he bite?” he asked.

“He’s been living with us for some time, Mr. Homer,” the woman said.
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Homer studied the shadows around him, expecting to see many more rodents moving behind

the things propped against the walls. Poor people didn’t know anything about hygiene, even if

he had paid to improve their lives in the slums. Putting the rat on his shoulder, the child got

near Homer, who pretended he didn’t care.

“It won’t bite you,” he said.

“Leave Mr. Homer alone,” the woman said.

Homer waited for the woman to get a few things that had fallen on the floor, uncovering

damp patches on the walls left by the rains. He couldn’t pay for all the things going wrong with

these families, when he had his own problems to sort out. Holding his papers, he waited for all

the mayhem to finish, as children appeared at the door. Then she came back with dirty hands.

“I wish we didn’t have a road full of mud,” she said.

“I’ll pave it one day.”

“Thank you, Mr. Homer.”

He didn’t know why she thanked him, when her life seemed to be full of horrors. He put the

papers on the table once more, hoping all the creatures living in the hut would leave him alone.

“I want you to sign these forms,” he said.

“I can’t read Mr. Homer.”

“It’s to improve your lives.”

”Will you build better houses?”

“I have to raise some more money.”

She smiled. “You are a saint,” Mr. Homer.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I just scribble something on your paper?” she asked. “That will be my signature.”

Homer nodded. “That’s fine.”

She wanted to help the benefactor, who had done so much for the poor of the city. Homer

was a genius! He felt something feeling his ears, as the rat ran across his chest, its long tail

hanging on his clothes.

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“He’s very friendly,” the woman said.

She ran her finger through the words, devoid of any meaning.

“I wish my children could read,” she said.

“Why don’t you send them to school?” he asked.

“We don’t have any money.”

“The estate school is free,” Homer said.

“They have to eat every morning,” she said.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you Mr. Homer.”

Homer could raise more money to solve her problems, even if the bishop would want half of

it.

“I’ll talk to the bishop,” he said.

“He’s a saint, Mr. Homer.”

Putting his papers away, Homer got ready to get a few more signatures for his plans. He

needed the money to help the families escape their poverty.

“I have to go now,” he said.

She led him to the door, where the children played with the rats, as a shadow moved by the

huts. Standing by the gate, Homer thought the Indian had come back, but he had to be

hallucinating.

The papers the women signed left Homer out of reach of the income tax. His expenditure

became far greater than his earnings, according to the certificates. He had done all of this to

sustain the poor women. Homer brought lots of tax free goods into the country every month.

The boxes had a cross on them. It said in big red letters: Charity. This food is for the poor of

Colombia. Look after it!

Sacks full of wheat arrived sometimes but they usually contained goods. Sport cars were

smuggled with ‘frozen food,’ written on them and any food sent in the packets would be sold at
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high prices to Homer’s customers. His ships brought Swiss watches, Scotch whisky, French

Wines, tinned food from all over the world, televisions, videos, pants, bras and other things.

Homer’s modest shop became a world bazaar. You could find a Mercedes Benz or fine

French pants, while custom officials never wondered about so many expensive and rare things.

They didn’t doubt Apostle Homer’s behaviour or the public would attack them. He gave them

whisky, cigarettes and lighters and sometimes he sent them cheques for a few thousand pesos

for Christmas. What a remarkable man!

The old boats: Athena, Sparta and The Thermopiles had been replaced by three new and

powerful ships: Odysseus, Ajax, Diogenes and Cyclops. They traded in goods. Homer slept

better during the nights, and as he lay on his boxes with a few rags on, he counted and

recounted the day’s earnings.

Homer’s drank a cup of tea with a portion of rotten cheese three times a week. He had

bought three suits in a second hand shop, and had put on some weight.
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Lola

As Homer walked around his property barking, a neighbour paid two hundred pesos for him

to patrol his business during the night. He used the money to buy some meat and regain his

health. Homer’s face became synonymous with love and charity, as he appeared in the papers

and spoke on the radio about the widows he had saved from the gutter. He had not seen Alicia

again. The woman had disappeared from his life forever.

“I think of the poor women all the time,” Homer said in the radio.

People showered him with money every time he cried in the studio. The tragedy had been

forgotten as he talked in the library a few more times about his pain, losing count of all the

charitable functions he attended. Hiring the builders to paint the widow’s houses for a few

pesos, he put the rest of the money in his safe, as the papers cashed on his fame. Everyone

bought El Pais when he appeared in the front page, while the women and their families lived in

squalor.

Someone else had an impact on his life at that time in his life. On seeing a beautiful woman

in the market one day, Homer had chased her through the crowd, crashing with a few people

buying their groceries before the shops shut for the day. He had never seen anything else like

that since the trip to the jungle or his affair with Alice.

“What a woman,” he muttered to himself.

She stopped to talk to Fray Serapio, by the church steps while people hurried to the mass.

Homer didn’t want to interrupt whatever confessions she had decided to tell the priest at that

time. Looking at the merchandise in one of the shops, he compared its prices with El Baratillo.

Then the girl moved down the street, as Homer crashed with the people crowding the

pavements.

“Can you see where you are going?” someone said.

Homer shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

She went down a street, while he rushed through the traffic, the car drivers shouting

obscenities.
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“Do you want to die?” they said.

On arriving at a part of the city filled with bars and music, Homer couldn’t see her

anymore. She must have gone inside one of those houses with white walls at the end of the

street, but Miguel also lived in one of those houses with his large family.

He would ask his employee about the beauty he had seen, before she disappeared from his

life like everyone else had done. Kicking a stone he found in his way, he moved back along the

road while listening to the music from the shops.

“How are the widows, Mr. Homer?” someone asked.

“They’re fine.”

Homer saw a few posters of his lectures in the library and the times he had spoken in the

radio. His fame had spread through the city, even if the rains had killed some of the families in

the slums. Homer mentioned the girl to Miguel in the shop.

“I think she’s called Lola and works in a beauty shop,” Miguel said.

“How do you know?” Homer asked.

“She looks like the girl you saw, Mr. Homer.” Miguel said. “They are nice people.”

Homer thought that Lola had a perfect body and any clothes she put on were superfluous.

She looked better than a duchess even if she dressed in rags. Homer planned to meet her that

evening, after Miguel told him where she worked.

“Maria is a nice girl,” Miguel said. “You should take her to the cinema.”

Homer didn’t hear his words, as he chewed coca leaves. He had to appear cool in front of

the most beautiful woman in the city, but every time he thought of her he barked in his

neighbour’s patio. Then he had a problem. If he didn’t travel in one of his trucks the next day,

the driver could waste petrol by going somewhere else or he might bring his girlfriend. How

could Homer see Lola and look after the trucks at the same time?

He had to do something about that, in order to supervise his business while having some fun

at the same timer. He surprised himself as he waited for the girl that evening, when he should
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be counting his money in El Baratillo, or looking after his ships in the port. Homer tried to be

less nervous but the girl was late. Then she appeared, looking as beautiful as ever.

“You’re like a million pesos,” Homer said.

He didn’t feel well, perhaps because he had masturbated the day before or the thought of a

million pesos. The two things made him as pale as an anaemic flower, but Homer thought any

woman would fall in love with his money.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked.

She nodded her head but his legs felt like jelly. He had to be strong in front of one of the

most beautiful girls in town, apart from Maria who only thought about herself.

“I work hard to pay my debts,” Lola said.

He shrugged. “I’m also poor.”

He wanted to hold her hands, while they moved along the road. It had to be love at first

sight like they said in the soap operas, as she stopped by a little house with a red door.

“My mother can’t see you,” she said.

“Why?” he asked.

Putting her hair back, Lola smiled. “She’s very strict.”

Looking into her eyes, he loved this woman like he had never done anyone before in his life,

when he wanted to kiss her lips.

“I must go now,” she said.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

On opening the door, she disappeared inside the house, leaving Homer alone with his pain.

A husband could be waiting for her amidst the shadows beyond the door. He couldn’t trust

women anymore, when his mother had left her money to the poor and Maria didn’t want him

anymore. Homer barked in the street as his heart suffered another blow.

“Two and two are seven,” he muttered to himself.

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The clouds parted, showing him a sky full of stars as the Milky Way made its way across

the void of space. It had to be a sign of good things to come in the future of humankind.
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Lola’s life

Wearing his best clothes, Homer waited for Lola by the market. As she appeared looking

beautiful, he offered her a red rose he had cut from someone’s garden.

“Thank you,” she said, her breasts trembling under her blouse.

“Can I take you home?” he asked.

She nodded. On moving down the road, they went past the shops selling clothes, as he

wanted to hold her hands. He came closer to her, feeling her scent and wanting to touch her

body, where he might discover many marvels never seen in the world. They had arrived at the

suburbs, full of children playing in the streets, while some of the adults gossiped with each

other.

“I’ll introduce you to mother,” she said.

Homer imagined Lola’s mother as a monster guarding her daughter against all evil but a nice

woman opened the door. She had Lola’s dark eyes and brown hair.

“I have seen your pictures in the papers,” she said.

“Mother is your fan,” Lola said. “She has followed your campaign for helping the widows.”

Homer sat next to Lola in their small sitting room, while the woman prepared dinner in the

kitchen. As Homer kissed her, she let him hold her hands, her skirt riding up her legs.

“Mother might come,” she said.

Homer shook his head. “The soup will burn.”

He went within her legs, as she stammered some more things, before yelping with delight,

but then she saw hundreds of tiny animals crawling on his hair.

“What is that?” she asked.

“I must have caught them in the widow’s houses,” Homer said.

“They are horrible,” Lola said.

Homer thought she made a fuss about nothing. His business in the slums had left him full of

money and lice. Putting his trousers up, he sipped his tea while Lola told him about her job and
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lack of money. They didn’t pay her well even if she worked every day. Homer had to see

about that, getting her life in the right pathway.

“I was a virgin,” she said.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Ask mother.”

“She won’t know anything,” Homer said.

“She does.”

Her mother appeared at that moment with their dinner and two glasses of orange juice with

aguardiente and Homer thought she had to know something. The woman looked at him before

putting the food on the table.

“My daughter wants to marry a rich man,” she said.

Mother, please,” Lola said.

“We need money,” the woman said.

While eating his beans with arepa, she told him all about their life before Lola’s father had

died of a heart attack. It must have been an exciting time because she cried.

“We used to have big parties,” she wiped her eyes.

“Mother thinks our entire life is written somewhere,” Lola said.

Homer shrugged. “I don’t understand.”

The woman showed him some papers she kept in a draw, with diagrams of the life line

through time. It had to do with their destiny in the universe, before she delivered her verdict.

“We have lived before,” she said.

“I see,” Homer said.

“Mum knows about that,” Lola said.

“Did you know I would come here today?” he asked.

The woman shrugged. “Of course I did.”

Putting the cards face down on the table, she asked Homer to take one of them. As

he showed her his card, she frowned.

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“I see darkness around you,” she said.

“I was born during a solar eclipse.”

She smiled. “That explains everything.”

The electricity went off and Homer held Lola’s hand as everyone screamed. It had to be

some trauma planned by the mother or something else like that.

“Did we pay the bill?” Lola asked.

“I never forget,” the woman said.

As the light of a candle illuminated the room, Homer saw their faces amidst the darkness

enveloping the world. They had to thank the electrical plant for the chaos it caused when the

energy went off sometimes.

“This is you first life cycle,” the woman said.

“What does it have to do with the light?” he asked.

“It has nothing with your present situation, Mr. Homer.”

Holding Lola’s hands, Homer saw shadows looking at him beyond the candle as the woman

put the cards by his side.

“Pick another card,” she said.

Homer chose one of them, but the woman shook her head.

“A child keeps you company in the darkness,” she said.

“What happened before the darkness?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

The light came back, chasing the shadows away, as Lola’s mother brought some more cups

of coffee in a tray and Homer wanted to be alone with the girl. He thought of the dark world

predicted by the woman, when he wouldn’t be able to earn his money anymore.

“You must do something against this danger, Mr. Homer,” the woman said.

“What danger?” he asked.

“It’s all in the darkness.”

“I don’t understand,” he said.

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“You must stop it, mother,” Lola said.

“He has to know,” the woman said.

“What do I have to know?”

“You raped me,” Lola said.

“I’m sorry.”
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Homer in love

Homer had fallen in love, a beautiful woman changing the way he saw the world. He

bought some soap and had a bath, but he wanted Lola to soap his back. He had never done so

many things on the same day, while Lola slept alone. Chastity can be a good thing sometimes.

You know where to start when you are in love but you don’t know when it will end. Homer

invited Lola to have an ice cream that afternoon while he had a glass of cold water, and by

forgetting to bark that night, he had lost a few hundred pesos. Nobody had ever seen Homer

clean and looking so cheerful. Travelling to the port that week, he sat next to the driver instead

of sleeping on the boxes, and stayed in a hotel that charged a few hundred pesos per night.

Everyone thought he had gone mad. It didn’t end there. On buying a small coconut when he

returned to the city, the taxi driver asked for a piece of the hard skin to keep as a treasure.

“It might bring me good luck,” he said.

That evening, he met Lola after she finished working in the shop. She wore a pink dress

with a rose by her breasts, and his heart bit faster as she moved towards him. He couldn’t

imagine anyone immune to the girl’s charms.

He had the coconut in a plastic bag.

“This is for you,” he said.

Lola sighed as she opened the bag and saw the present he had brought her. She had

expected something better from her rich boyfriend, like a golden watch or a diamond ring. She

thought this was just the beginning. She didn’t have the priests or the sergeant anymore and

kept Homer at a distance. As he tried to kiss her, she stopped him. The coconut had not been

enough but Homer thought she was a virgin.

“When can I visit you again?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Homer slept better and did his job as a guard dog. The rest of the time he reproached

himself. Why had he spent so much money in the girl? What use did it have? These questions

kept on repeating themselves in his head like characters in a nightmare and he couldn’t find an
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answer. Why did he give her the coconut? He could have fed himself with it for the whole

week, while the ice cream had been water with a bit of taste and colour. He had wasted water

having a bath as well as the new soap he had bought. He had to think in his water bill and the

money he had paid to the hotel in the port because he must be losing his mind.

Homer had been afraid of mad people since he had been a child, when his mother had shown

him people eating, drinking and spending money. They had to be crazy. He remembered

fiends without a form and infamous animals moving through the streets. They were mad.

People who took care of their money looked fat and healthy but Homer looked ill.

He wanted Lola in spite of all of this and missed her firm breasts and sex appeal, his body

floated like a shipwreck survivor in a typhoon as he masturbated repeatedly, dreaming of a

muddy lake full of bits of women and dollar bills. He had been destroyed by sex, mud, sex and

mud.

Homer wondered if the manuscripts might have an answer to his mental distress. On

opening his safe, he found the roll of papers Jose had left on the floor. Sitting down at the

table, he spent a long time writing down his own interpretation of the words. Miguel found him

on the floor as he fallen off his seat, hurting his face.

“You must go to the doctor,” he said.

Homer shook his head. “Doctors charge a lot of money.”

Miguel brought him milk and brandy and Homer felt much better but then he found out what

he had and felt ill again.

“You don’t have to pay for anything,” Miguel said. “It’s a present.”

Then the door bell rang. Homer thought Miguel had shut the shop, ready to go home as the

little man hurried through the corridor.

“You have a visitor,” Miguel said.

A young woman appeared at the door. She had a plate covered by a cloth, while her dark

hair went down to her waist.

“I’ve heard that you’ve been sick,” she said.

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“Thank you,” he said.

She helped him to sit at the table, before putting a bowl of chicken soup in front of him.

Standing by his side, she waited for Homer to start eating his dinner.

“I have to go now, Mr. Homer,” she said.

“You can keep me company tonight,” he said.

She shook her head. “My family are waiting at home.”

As she left the room, Homer thought she had to be one of the young widows who had moved

in the new houses he had built after the tragedy. After putting the manuscripts on his safe, he

looked at the report Miguel had left on the table. His shop had made good profits. The widow’s

business had recovered since the last tragedy, and he had lots of money in his bank now.

Homer didn’t want a girl to destroy his life and Lola had to go.

“Tree of life,” he said. “Help me with my problems.”

It remained silent, swaying in the breeze and keeping its secrets forever. This was the start

of a new life, while the shadows waited in the mist of time...

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Disgrace

At the other end of the town the bad spirits conspired against him. In a church near the

widow’s housing, Father Ricardo had just finished taking confessions.

“Good afternoon, father,” a young woman said. “I’m Sarah.”

He smiled, trying to keep temptation away but being polite at the same time. He couldn’t be

rude to God’s children even if they happened to be pretty women.

“Can I talk to you?” she interrupted his thoughts.

Father Ricardo took her to the refectory where she sat at the table. She had to be one of the

young widows Homer helped. He had seen her when blessing the widow’s houses a few

months ago. Sarah said how Homer had taken them out of the streets.

“We don’t have any toilets or electricity,” she said. “We thought you could raise money to

improve our homes.”

Father Ricardo found pen and paper on his table to write what she wanted: electricity, water,

toilets and better homes. He would ask people on the Sunday service to donate money for a

good cause. He wondered why Homer didn’t know anything about it, when he had found the

engineers to build the homes.

“We cooked food for Homer when he was ill,” she said.

“I didn’t know he had been ill.”

Sarah had several hypotheses about Homer’s illness, inspired by the rumours in the slums.

“Homer is studying a pile of papers,” she said.

Father Ricardo had heard strange things about Homer: first he had married to himself and

now he studied papers. He wondered what he might do next.

“We helped the man who gave us a place to live,” she said.

She spoke of all the good things Apostle Homer had done for them and how their children

had a roof over their heads. Father Ricardo blessed her while praying and sprinkling holy water

on her head. He admired these women who had suffered so much in their lives. He met Fray
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Serapio in the refectory after he had left Sarah praying in the church. The man stopped limping

to greet Father Ricardo.

“My rheumatism is bothering me,” he said.

Father Ricardo told him to take camomile for the pain of the joints.

“You must pray to the Virgin Mary after you finish your drink,” he said.

Fray Serapio nodded. He had tried praying before without any results, but a visit to the

young widows might take his mind away from the pain.

“I’ll ask the widows for advice,” he said.

Father Ricardo knew of Fray Serapio’s love for beautiful women and wished the priest took

more care of his spiritual life.

“The widows sent food to Homer when he was sick,” Father Ricardo said.

Fray Serapio thought Homer had enough money to buy all the food he wanted.

“I have to go,” Father Ricardo said. “Tell me if the camomile helps you.”

He went to the sacristy while Fray Serapio looked for the phone to tell Lola about her greedy

boyfriend. As the priest looked at his reflection in the long mirror in the corridor while waiting

for the operator to connect him to Lola, he saw a middle aged man without much hair on his

head. That’s why she preferred a young man like Homer. The girl had just arrived from work

when she answered the phone.

“The widows are feeding your boyfriend,” he said.

Lola frowned. “You’re jealous.”

She knew how the priest hated sharing her with other men. She wanted to ask the widows

but they lived in a dangerous and unhealthy place, sewer ran through the streets while dirty

children looked in the gutters for something to eat.

“Ask father Ricardo,” he said. “He knows all about it.”

Lola reflected on Fray Serapio’s words while brushing her long hair. After leaving her

house, she moved down the street to the church, where she sat by the metal mesh of the

confessionary, as the shadow behind it quivered.

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“I have sinned, father,” she said.

Father Ricardo shifted in his seat expecting to hear some more silly things, as he had known

Lola since she had been a small child.

“I have slept with three men at the same time,” she said.

“In the same bed?” he asked.

“No father. I’ve seen the sergeant during the day, Homer in my room in the evenings while

Fray Serapio hid under the bed.”

Father Ricardo knew Fray Serapio had been up to something. The priest liked women but

this time he had gone too far. Fray Serapio would run up to anything wearing skirts in the

street, even if it compromised his position as a representative of God on earth.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“Fray Serapio said the widows had been feeding Homer.”

Father Ricardo had to tell the truth whatever the consequences.

“He was sick,” Father Ricardo said. “The women helped him to get better.”

Lola was angry and punched the wooden decorations on the edge of the confessionary.

Homer didn’t need poor widows feeding him when he had so much money.

“You’ll go straight to hell with that temper,” he said.

Lola had to tell him about something else in her life. Her period had not come this month in

spite of all the things she had done. She had jumped from a sofa and eaten hot potatoes with

mustard but the blood had refused to stain her pants.

“Father,” she said. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Father Ricardo jumped at the sound of her voice. The girl had done it this time.

“Is it Fray Serapio’s baby?” he asked

Lola shook her head. Even though the priest practiced coitus , he had left his sperm on the

sheets, making a mess on the bed.

“It’s Homer’s baby,” she said.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

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Lola cried. “I don’t know, father.”

Father Ricardo had to exorcise the bad spirits haunting the man, but Lola wanted a

termination.

“Don’t tell Homer,” she said.

Lola prayed while Father Ricardo took confessions from other people, but she found it

difficult to control her temper like the priest had said. She begged Jesus Christ to solve her

present problem before everyone else knew of her pregnancy.

“I want to abort this baby,” she muttered to herself.

She prayed the rosary to control her anger. She had to dislodge the seed Homer had planted

in her womb even if the Virgin Mary didn’t like it.

“Jesus Christ,” she said. “I’ll become a nun if I manage to abort the baby.”

Lola prayed after this, hoping God wouldn’t be angry. She tore the numerous cards Homer

had sent her once she had arrived back home and then she threw his pictures in the bin.

“I don’t want to see that man again,” she muttered to herself.

Lola’s mother witnessed her daughter’s rage through the house. She thought the girl

shouldn’t send away her rich boyfriend, who might take them out of poverty.

“You have done this before,” the woman said. “Can you remember the sergeant, the

policeman and the young lawyer?”

Lola shook her head.

“Mother, Homer is evil.”

She dumped the piece of coconut Homer had given her a few days before, after throwing his

pictures in the bin. It wasn’t a present fit for a rich man. Then Lola jumped from the sofa onto

the pictures on the floor.

“Are you pregnant?” her mother asked.

Lola nodded before dissolving in a flood of tears.

“The witch doctor will get rid of it,” she said.

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The woman didn’t believe in abortion as her daughter jumped from the kitchen table after

taking castor oil.

“One of your lovers might marry you,” she said.

Lola climbed up a ladder they had to get to the ceiling. She might break a leg or lose her

foetus if she jumped but she didn’t care.

“You’ll kill yourself,” the woman said.

Lola stopped her wild behaviour. She didn’t want to die because of Homer’s baby. She

phoned the sergeant, who had just arrived at the barracks where he commanded a battalion of

bullies.

“Can you meet me outside my job tomorrow?” She asked him.

“You have your rich boyfriend,” he said.

“I’ve finished with him,” she said.

The sergeant appeared as she left her job next day, wearing his uniform where his best

medals shone under the sun.

“I have missed you,” he said.

He passed his arm around her shoulders as they moved down the street and Homer waited in

a corner. The sergeant had heard of Lola’s infatuation with the businessman and grabbed

Homer by his shirt as he tried to get away.

“I hate rich bastards,” he said.

He punched him a few times as Lola fainted. She looked pale and tears stained her beautiful

face.

“Are you all right?” the sergeant asked.

He took her pulse the way he had learned in the army as Homer escaped. He didn’t stop

running until he arrived at the safety of his shop.

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A hero’s farewell

“A madman has attacked me,” Homer said.

He lay down on his boxes, after washing his face in the water tap he had installed in the

backyard.

“Shall I call an ambulance?” Miguel asked.

Homer shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

He would never let a woman do this again as they were evil. Homer didn’t bark that night.

He had given the girl a bit of coconut and ice cream but she let the sergeant beat him up. All

women had to be like that. He covered himself with rugs and dreamed of Lola walking towards

him but the sergeant bit him up. Homer felt awful when Miguel opened the shop next morning,

his nose had swollen and a few of his teeth had loosened. He would never forget all the pain

Lola had caused him.

The edges of the boxes felt hard while he thought of the girl. He didn’t know why she had

been so angry when he had not done anything wrong. Then one of his employees appeared

with a plate full of chicken soup.

“It’s from the widows,” he said.

Homer thought of the women’s muddy houses with an open sewer running through the

backyard while sipping his soup. It would cost money to improve their homes. As his friend

came to collect the suit, he heard of the harrowing moments when a bus had knocked Homer

down.

“The driver didn’t stop,” Homer said.

His friend thought he should have called the police but Homer worried more about his

clothes. Homer gave him a few coca leaves to keep him happy as a replacement for the suit.

He had to forget Lola and her sexy body, and spent a few days on his boxes, hating all women

and their sergeants. One of his employees found a mattress next to Homer’s place of death,

sorry, next to his place of living and took it to his cellar. Homer thought it was better than the

boxes, and dismissed his employee the next day in case he wanted a salary increase. He didn’t
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bark in the backyard. He had lost a fortune in a few days without counting the coconut or

Lola’s ice cream.

It rained that night. Homer heard thunder rumbling through the world as the heavens spoke

of Armageddon, and the tree of life shook under the strong wind. Miguel brought a newspaper

with the bad news the next morning: seven widows and eight children had drowned in the

slums. Homer sat on his boxes too stunned to say anything. He would have to pay the

newspapers to keep quiet again. He drank his tea in the cellar, afraid to face the world and slept

in the mattress Miguel had found in the rubbish. Homer didn’t want to know about widows or

Indians anymore as he had to change the goal of his life. Then he read an interesting article in

the paper Miguel had brought him.

The world had been at war for a few years. It was called a war world and Homer’s old

country had been invaded. He had made money from the Indian heads, the widow’s pain and

his boats. Could the invasion of his dismembered country be another business? He had

received a letter from Uncle Hugh inviting him to New York, where he might be able to help

his country. Miguel appeared with Amelia that evening. He had to count the sacks of coca

before putting them in the cellar while Amelia marched around the shop, pretending to be a

soldier.

“She’s obsessed with the army,” Miguel said.

Amelia led a troop of invisible soldiers around the cellar while shouting: “One, two, one,

two...”

Homer waited until the child had gone out of the cellar to give Miguel the bad news.

“I’m going to travel around the world,” he said.

Miguel had never been outside his country and looked at Homer with respect. He would

like to travel to faraway lands if he had money.

“I leave you in charge of my business,” Homer said.

Miguel didn’t like managing the shop on his own. He discussed with Homer the prices of

everything and what to do in case something went wrong.

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“You’ll have my telephone number wherever I go,” Homer said. “Or you can wire me.”

He put the card Homer gave him in his pocket. Amelia marched around the shop while they

talked and Homer made arrangements with Miguel to support the child. She had been born at

the dawn of his life, when he had discovered the path to follow in this world.

“I’ll send you money for her school and food,” Homer said.

Miguel thought Homer was a good man in spite all his faults. Amelia had heard the last part

of the conversation and wept by their side.

“Don’t go, Uncle Homer,” she said.

He pecked her cheek. “I’ll look after you forever.”

He gave her some of his beads and she cried in his arms.

“You must write to me, Uncle Homer,” she said.

Homer nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Amelia cried as she would do many years later when she witnessed the last minutes of

humankind in the charge of her troop.

“Take me with you,” she said.

“You’ll come to visit me,” he said.

“It isn’t enough.”

Hugging her for the last time, Homer remembered the day Uncle Hugh had gone in the boat

forever. That had been during his first life cycle like Lola’s mother had seen in her cards.
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The voyage

Miguel and Amelia were miles away as Homer found the ship waiting for him. Cesar came

to greet him.

“Mr. Homer,” he said. “We were expecting you.”

He led him to a cabin with a small toilet, a shower and a nice bed. Homer looked at the blue

sea outside his window, before counting some of his money on the bed. He had earned millions

of pesos during his past enterprises.

“Two and two are seven,” Homer muttered to himself.

Homer worked as a waiter in the ship to earn some money and have free food at the same

time. Cesar couldn’t understand why his boss wanted to serve in the restaurant when he was

the owner of the ship.

“I used to be very poor,” Homer said.

Cesar shrugged. “I know.”

Homer weighed the benefits of serving in the ship against the disadvantages, as his anorexia

might come back again, sending him into a nightmare of hunger and solitude. He had to pay

for his food with hard work. Homer stood on the deck later, as the waves battered the ship

forever.

“It’s time to serve dinner,” the head waiter interrupted his thoughts.

He was a big man, who had sailed the seven seas. Homer felt sick and took an Alka-Seltzer

while trying to keep his balance on the moving floor. He went to bed after the break, where he

remained for the next few days. The doctor diagnosed seasickness and Homer had to take a

few tablets but they made him feel sleepy. He spent the rest of the trip in bed, dreaming of Lola

and Kam, while the Indians chased him for their heads. Homer left his bed just in time to see

the statue of liberty rising in the horizon. He hoped to start a new life in the empire of the

north, where the dollar reigned supreme.

Putting his clothes back in his suitcase, he prepared to disembark in the land of gold, but as

the ship approached the port, Homer wobbled to the top deck, eager to experience a new world
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full of adventure. The ship stopped moving and people went down the steps towards the

waiting officials. Homer didn’t have anything to declare as none of his belongings cost more

than one dollar. Cesar waited for him by the top deck, waiting to thank the man who had

turned his life around after the sale of his ships.

“I hope you have a nice time, Mr. Homer,” he said

“I will,” Homer said.

Giving the man a few dollars, Homer moved with his case towards the immigration officer.

“What’s your purpose of your trip to the USA?” a burly man asked in broken Spanish.

Homer showed him the letter his uncle had sent him before. Then he gave them a bank

statement showing the money he had made during the years. They had to welcome the rich

businessman, bringing dollars to the country.

“I wish you a nice time here, Mr. Homer,” the man said.

As Homer moved amongst the crowd, looking for Uncle Hugh, a middle aged man with a

moustache hugged him.

“I thought you were taller,” Homer said.

Uncle Hugh smiled. “I must have shrunk during the years.”

He pushed his suitcase towards a coffee shop, where they sat at a table overlooking the street

full of people.

“How was your trip?” Uncle Hugh asked.

“I was sick all the time.”

“I hate ships,” Uncle Hugh said.

The waitress appeared with two coffees and a few cakes. Homer ate a roll full of cream

while Uncle Hugh talked.

“Do you still keep my coin?” he asked.

On opening his wallet, Homer showed his uncle the shinny cent he kept amidst his loose

change. He had been careful not to lose it during the years.

“It brings me good luck,” he said.

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Uncle Hugh brought back those memories that had ceased to exist long ago, when he had an

invisible friend and went round the tree of life growing in the garden.

“You can fight the Nazi enemies,” Uncle Hugh interrupted his reverie.

“What?” Homer asked.

“You can free our country with your tanks.”

On imagining his ships selling arms to the warriors of the world amidst the noise in the

cafeteria, Homer felt happy for the first time since he had embarked in that ship.

“I’ll put my fleet to the service of my country,” he said.

“You’re a patriot,” Uncle Hugh said. “You offer your life for your land.”

Homer didn’t like people misunderstanding his intentions, even if they were noble, as the

waiter brought a bottle of champagne Uncle Hugh had ordered to celebrate his arrival.

“To the end of the war,” he said.

Homer nodded. “To us.”

He looked at the other customers while sipping his drink. This was a country of

opportunities and good for his plans. They left the coffee shop while the sun set on the tall

buildings and the stars appeared in an autumn sky. As Homer barked, his uncle looked at him.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

Homer smiled. “I couldn’t be better.”

They moved through a park full of trees and flowers where lovers hid beneath the bushes

and children played. Homer listened to the language these people spoke so different from

Spanish and his own forgotten tongue. He would learn English to do business with the country

and earn dollars instead of pesos. On arriving at Uncle Hugh’s flat later, they sipped a glass of

wine while remembering old times.

“Your mother used to cook a nice chicken,” Uncle Hugh said.

Homer nodded. “I know.”

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He had been a lonely boy and with an imaginary friend the last time he had seen his uncle in

the mist of time. The waiter served the customers, coming all the time to the coffee shop, while

Homer reflected in his life.

“Two and two are seven,” he said.

Uncle Hugh smiled. “I’ve heard you saying that before.”

Dark clouds gathered in the sky, waiting for the best moment to start the worst storm

humanity had ever seen...

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Another day

As Homer dozed in Uncle Hugh’s room that evening, he heard the traffic in the city that

never slept. It had streets paved with fools, who should give him gold. The sun sneaked

through the curtains next day, when Uncle Hugh appeared at the door.

“Good morning,” he said.

Putting the breakfast tray on the bedside table, he switched on the radio, as the presenter

spoke of the war in Europe. Homer had to do something to help his motherland punished by

Hitler’s troops.

“We’ll go to see Maria,” Uncle Hugh interrupted his thoughts.

Homer frowned. “Maria?”

“We meet in her house,” Uncle Hugh said.

Homer had to get used to his new country even if he missed his shop and everything else he

had in his previous life. Uncle Hugh had made scrambled eggs on toast, filling the house with

smoke while talking about the war.

“They die in the concentration camps,” he said.

“What is that?” Homer asked.

“They’re places full of misery.”

“That’s terrible,” Homer said.

“We must do something about it,” Uncle Hugh said.

Homer had a shower after his breakfast, thinking about his words. He had to defeat Hitler’s

reign of misery with the cash he had managed to save after years of working hard in the shop.

On opening his suitcase, Homer found the clothes he had brought from the market, good for his

first visit in the city.

“You must wear a warm coat,” Uncle Hugh said. “The weather is getting colder.”

Homer found the best coat he had bought in the market- It would protect him against the

cold and the snow- while combing his hair. He had to look nice for the first meeting he had in

New York. Uncle Hugh waited by the door, as Homer got his wallet for the money they might
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give him in Maria’s flat. He had to get to his countrymen’s hearts, willing to release their

country from the enemy’s hands, even if they had to pay some money.

They emerged in the street full of people busy with their lives to care about the war in

Europe. On going into the subway with its escalators and electric trains, everyone pushed them

aside in their rush to get somewhere else in the metropolis. Then Homer remembered his shop

in Miguel’s hands. The little man had promised to keep him informed of any new

developments with his business, in exchange for his daughter’s education. Homer had

promised to invite Miguel to the yacht one day, before the end of the world, whenever it would

be.

“They all want to meet you,” Uncle Hugh interrupted his reverie.

“Who?”

“Your countrymen and women.”

“That’s nice,” Homer said.

After leaving the train, Homer saw children playing in the streets while youngsters talked in

the corners. He could have sold them his merchandise on easy terms and without much

interest. People went past them in a hurry to some unknown job to get enough money to feed

their families.

“Two and two are seven,” Homer muttered to himself.

“Are you plotting something?” Uncle Hugh asked.

“I might be.”

Uncle Hugh smiled. “I thought so.”

On stopping by a block of flats with a nice garden, they took the lift up to the tenth floor and

a woman with short black hair and a round face appeared at the door.

“This is Homer,” Uncle Hugh said.

The woman smiled. “I’ve heard lots about you.”

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She led them into a flat full of flowers and colour. The leader of their country appeared in a

few pictures on the wall, surrounded by postcards and flags, as some people sat around a long

table.

“This is the man we were expecting tonight,” Maria said.

Homer sat down as Maria brought cups of coffee and biscuits. Everybody wanted to ask

him questions but Maria restored the order.

“I will use my ships to defeat the intruders,” Homer said and they applauded.

“You’re our hero,” they said.

Homer drank his tea while listening to their stories.

“I escaped from the Nazis,” a man said.

He told a long story of danger and tenacity amongst the enemy as they all cried. He had dug

a tunnel under a prison in a concentration camp, where hundreds of people died every day.

Then he showed a few pictures someone had managed to take of the conditions endured by the

prisoners. As Homer saw little children dying of starvation, while their parents looked like

bags of bones, he had to put an end to all the suffering in the name of fascism.

“This is me,” the man said.

He passed the picture of a man, looking like a skeleton, standing by a few other victims of

the Nazis.

“I’m lucky to be alive,” he said.

“How did you dig the tunnel?” Homer asked.

“I used the spoons and forks we had for our lunch, the only food we had during the day.”

“You are tough,” Homer said.

“I hope you can liberate our country,” he said.

They made a collection to help Homer’s plans, because the fire of freedom had swept

through this colony lost in New York.

“This is to help the war effort,” Maria said as she gave him the money in coins and dollar

bills.
147

Homer put the money in his wallet, feeling happier for the first time since boarding the ship.

“I promise to put my ships at your service,” he said.

“Hurrah to Homer,” they said.

They toasted to the hero, as Maria poured champagne in their glasses, and snow blanketed

the world outside the windows. Homer slept wrapped in his own coat in Maria’s flat that

evening. He would leave his bones here if it was good for his countrymen.
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Homer’s ships

The gringos wanted to use Homer’s ships to help the war in Europe, and instead of dying in

New York he would do it at the bottom of the sea. The USA government would give him free

arms. Homer cancelled his businesses in Colombia, including El Baratillo by putting his ships

at the service of his country. It had to be a good business. On phoning Colombia in one of the

first transatlantic phone calls, he promised to put money in Miguel’s bank account every month

without fail to pay for Amelia’s education.

“I wouldn’t abandon my best employee,” Homer said.

Miguel sighed. “Thank you, Mr. Homer.”

Amelia was fine and enjoying her secondary school, but she still wanted to fight for her

country one day.

“You’ll come to visit me,” Homer said.

“I’ll do that, Uncle Homer.”

He felt sad after putting the phone down. Miguel’s family had been with him for a few

years, when Homer had made his fortune taking advantage of other peopled and the world. He

had to do something about it. Sitting down at the desk, he wrote a check for the family he had

left a few weeks before, hoping to see them again one day. On writing down the sum of

money, Homer wanted to know if it would be enough for Amelia to realise her dreams. He

heard footsteps approaching the study. At first Homer thought he had one of his night terrors,

when things might go wrong without an explanation, but then Uncle Hugh appeared wearing a

dressing gown while smelling of cologne.

“Maria has sent you something,” he said.

He gave Homer a check for a few thousand dollars, donated by his country men and women

to defeat the enemy.

“Thank you,” Homer said.

“You must thank them.”

“I’ll do it later.”
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Putting it in his wallet, Homer planned to take it to the bank, where it would gain interest.

He had amazed a fortune since his arrival at the land of hope.

“I’m selling El Baratillo,” he said.

“That’s a good idea,” Uncle Hugh said. “Have you found anyone interested yet?”

“I’ll have to wait.”

Uncle Hugh tidied his papers, while Homer tried to keep his transactions in order with all

the money he had made since his arrival. Then Uncle Hugh showed him a picture in the local

paper of his boats awaiting the orders to leave the port, followed by a short article on the

foreigner rising to fame in Colombia. Homer wondered how they knew so much about him

unless Jaramillo or Uncle Hugh had said something.

“My boats are ready to go,” Homer said.

“Why are you doing it?” Uncle Hugh asked.

“I love my country,” Homer said.

Uncle Hugh laughed as Homer looked surprise. The man must have gone mad after

working as a journalist in the big city.

“That’s the best excuse I’ve ever heard,” he said.

“It’s true,” Homer said.

“You want to have lots of money.”

Homer sighed. ”I need money to defeat fascism.”

Looking at a map of the world Uncle Hugh had on the wall, Homer followed the path his

ships would take in their journey towards Europe, where they might be attacked by submarines.

“You’ll sell your arms to the world,” Uncle Hugh said.

“I’ll liberate our country,” Homer said.

Homer noted down all the money they had given him in New York. The sale of El Baratillo

would leave him well off after he had paid his income tax, but then he found the manuscripts he

kept in his case, a memory of his childhood in the shop lost in the market. Homer put them on

the table, next to the map of the world.

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“I found them on the floor,” Homer said.

Uncle Hugh leafed through the pages full of dust and strange signs from another world, as

Homer hoped one of the sailors might translate them for a few dollars. They had to know the

languages spoken in the countries they visited.

“I can read some Sanskrit,” Uncle Hugh said.

“What is that?”

“It’s an ancient language from India.”

Homer couldn’t understand some of the symbols Uncle Hugh had written in the paper. They

had many zeros, something looking like a p and a few other things. Jose had been a clever

child full of exciting ideas about the languages of the world. All those signs had to be linked to

the dark sun, his fate in the jungle, the widows and Hitler’s invasion of his country.

“I wonder what happened to the girl,” Homer said.

“Is it your Indian girlfriend?”

Homer nodded. “She ran away before I could thank her.”

Homer remembered the fun they had in the hammock all those years ago. He wasn’t sure

whether he had been to the Indian town or if he had dreamed of the adventure after falling

asleep on the grass.

We need more tanks and bombs, he wrote in a telegram he would send the president, as the

earth shook.

“It’s only a tremor,” Uncle Hugh said.

The role of the sun in his life went through Homer’s mind as he got ready to conquer the

world, wondering what he would find at the end of time.

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Homer sails away

Odysseus would be the first ship to leave the port but it was surrounded by absolute secrecy.

As the captain of the ship, Homer wore an artificial moustache and looked like an old Turkish

sailor. He saw the sailors bringing boxes full of machine guns, bombs that looked like corn on

the hob and munitions disguised as chocolates. Canons pretending to be canoes and a few

tanks camouflaged as ambulances. Homer worried about his seasickness during the trip,

spoiling the enjoyment of his journey. The sun shone over the city on the day of his departure,

as the ships waited in the quay for Homer to lead them to the battlefields of Europe.

“Give my regards to our people,” Uncle Hugh said.

Homer nodded. “I will do that.”

Searching in his pockets, Uncle Hugh found a letter mixed with dirt and bits of cigarette.

After looking at it for a few moments, he handed it to Homer.

“You must give this to our president,” he said.

Homer leafed through the pages, written in Uncle Hugh’s fine words to the head of their

country. The arms the American government would restore his mandate over that of the enemy

engulfing most of Europe in the conflict. Homer added his own signature at the bottom of the

page, after putting the paper on a book he had brought to his adventure to the other side of the

world.

A crowd had gathered to see the ships for a last time before the mission, as parents showed

their children the view of the men preparing to sail away to foreign lands. It had to be a historic

day for the country, ready to fight the enemy destroying their peace.

“You must go now,” Uncle Hugh said.

Looking at the ship floating in the bay, Homer felt tears going down his face and landing in

his shirt. He had to rescue his country from the evil taking over most of Europe. Hugging his

Uncle for the last time, Homer reflected in his mission in the Mediterranean Sea, where the

enemy waited in its submarines willing to sink a hero like him.

“We must fight for peace and democracy,” Uncle Hugh said.
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Homer nodded. “I’ll do that.”

A girl appeared out of the crowd with a bunch of flowers, her silhouette visible through her

dress. Kissing Homer’s cheek, she handed him the flowers she might have bought in her way

to the docks

“I wish you a good journey, Mr. Homer,” she said.

“Thank you,” Homer said.

He felt the aroma of her hair. He could have sold her the lotion he used to have in El

Baratillo, before he had decided to travel the world. Homer wanted to tell her many things but

the crowd waited for the moment of his departure. Holding the flowers, he went up the steps of

one of the ships, ready to die for his country and the world.

“Hurrah to Homer,” people chanted.

Homer stood by the prow under a sky full of hope for the future. He had to conquer the

world like his parents had wanted long ago. As the ship started to move, his stomach felt

funny, and Cesar appeared by his side holding a glass filled with a clear liquid.

“I didn’t forget your sea sickness,” he said.

“You are a genius,” Homer said.

It refreshed his insides before the journey started, as the cannons blasting in the docks

interrupted his concentration and the statue of liberty bid them farewell in their journey.

Holding the rails, Homer tried to ignore the motion of the ship in spite of the alka seltzer Cesar

had given him.

“I’ll take you to your room,” he said.

They made their way to the lower deck, where some of the sailors checked the boxes of the

ammunition to liberate a country.

“Hi Mr. Homer,” they said.

After saluting them military style, Homer held the walls to keep his balance amidst the

waves of nausea invading his senses. It had to be the price for helping his country during times

of war.
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“This is your cabin, Mr. Homer,” Cesar said.

Homer saw a window showing the sea under the sun, as the bed waited for him in a corner

and Cesar offered him some more tablets with a glass of water.

“They need me in the deck,” Homer said.

“I’ll look after the ship, Mr. Homer.”

Taking off his clothes, Homer went into the bed, trying to forget, the nausea accosting his

senses. Homer spent the next few days in a limbo where Cesar gave him medication before

disappearing in a whirlpool of light.

“I want coca,” Homer said.

Cesar shook his head. “It’s no good for seasickness, Mr. Homer.”

“You are a liar.”

Homer dreamed of Kam, having fun amidst the shadows threatening to devour the

hammock. As a hand shook him awake, Homer saw Cesar accompanied by one of the sailors.

He was a plump man, who spoke with a lisp.

“Why are we going south, sir? The man asked. “Europe is to the east.”

Homer reflected in the question. He didn’t want to go to Europe full of submarines, trying

to sink any boats they found.

“We are helping the war effort,” he said.

“Is it in Latin America?”

Homer smiled. “Those countries are part of our mission.”

“I see,” the sailor said.

Shutting his eyes, Homer tried to go back to Kalm in his dreams, before he felt ill again. He

had to be healthy to do business with the world in the name of freedom and his country. The

sailor must have gone back to his duties somewhere else in the ship the next time he opened his

eyes again.

“Shall we play cards?” Cesar interrupted the silence.

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Homer saw the man holding a pack of cards by the bed. Homer covered his face with the

blanket, wishing the man went away as a wave of nausea assailed his senses.

“We have followed your instructions Mr. Homer,” Cesar said.

“Europe is dangerous,” Homer said.

Homer came face to face with the ace of spades Cesar had left by his side, as Homer wanted

to forget his seasickness spoiling his journey.

“I used to sail around the world with my boats,” Cesar said.

Putting his queen on the bed, Homer waited for the man to play, while the clock marked the

time somewhere around the bed.

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Salvacion

“Land,” someone said.

As Homer looked out of his porthole, he saw trees in the distance. It had to be one of those

islands lost in the Caribbean Sea, as some canoes welcomed them to the country. Sitting in the

vessels, a few men gesticulated something.

“Are they pirates?” Homer asked.

Cesar put the cards in the side of the table, while smiling.

“You are so funny, Mr. Homer,” he said. “We don’t have any pirates in Salvacion.”

“Is this Salvacion then?” Homer asked.

Homer nodded. “Welcome to my country, Mr. Homer.”

Homer nodded. “I hope they want tanks.”

“They will, Mr. Homer.”

While looking for his clothes in the side table, Homer pushed a few things onto the floor.

As they arrived at their destination amidst the Caribbean Sea, Homer got ready to disembark in

the island he could see beyond the waves. He found his shirt in the wardrobe, where he kept

his suitcase and the rest of his clothes, while Cesar waited for him by the door.

“I’m ready,” he said.

Homer wanted to tell the president he loved his land, even if he couldn’t rescue it from

Hitler’s men. He would do it some other time he had to take arms to the troops in Europe.

“I hope the president buys my merchandise,” Homer said.

“He will,” Cesar said.

They heard a band playing in the deck, and Homer blinked when they emerged in a sunny

morning full of music and fun. Standing by a table, a little man spoke to the sailors in hushed

tones. Wearing an army uniform, he had a few medals in his lapel, while a sable dangled from

his waist.

“Mr. Homer,” he said. “I have seen your pictures in the papers.”

Homer shook hands with the stranger, who talked all the time.
156

“I’m the president of the country,” the man said.

“I’m glad to meet you, Excellency,” Homer said.

Cesar greeted the president, as a band played the national hymn, and everyone remained

quiet. The president shook Cesar’s hands when the music stopped.

“How are your boats?” he asked.

“I sold them to Mr. Homer.”

“That’s very good,” the president said.

The president led them to a table, where his men brought some papers and other things,

ready to do business.

“We welcome you to my country, Mr. Homer,” he said.

Homer smiled. “Thank you, Excellency.”

“I have canons, airplanes and guns,” Homer said.

“Are they good quality?”

“All my products are good, Excellency,” Homer said.

At first they saw the tanks driving slowly towards the ramp by the railings. Then the men

pushed the boxes of armaments and machine guns along the deck, as they held their breath at

the display of power and death.

“The American government knows how to choose their armament,” Homer said.

“God bless Mr. Roosevelt,” the president said.

“I have everything at very good prices,” Homer said.

The president agreed. “Our neighbours are a nuisance.”

Homer nodded. “They need to be taught a lesson, Excellency.”

Moving around the tanks, the president patted their sides looking for any imperfections, as

his men waited. Then he examined the trucks and the small planes.

“Atenagoras,” he called.

A small man wearing sailor clothes and a red hat appeared by his side. Looking at Homer,

he mumbled a greeting before facing the president.

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“Can you bring me my check book?” he asked.

Atenagoras disappeared through a door while the sailors brought more ammunition to the

top deck and the president examined them. He smelled them, trying to detect any bad odours

kin the explosives, waiting to kill all his enemies in the Caribbean.

“We lost a few islands last year,” he said.

Homer didn’t know the pain of losing and island. He thought they were worth money or the

man wouldn’t be so sad. The sailors put the tanks in a line ready to shoot the enemy, showing

the power of Salvacion amidst the Caribbean Sea, as Atenagoras appeared with the cheque

book.

“It is two million dollars,” Homer said.

The president hesitated before writing down such a large sum but he thought his country

would thank him one day.

“Nobody will attack us now,” he said.

Homer nodded. His arms would help Salvacion recover some of its missing land.

Atenagoras helped Cesar to take down more boxes of ammunition to the waiting trucks.

“I wouldn’t know what to do without him,” the president said.

Homer invited the man for a drink in the bar of the ship full of candles and candelabras. A

sailor opened a bottle of champagne and poured it into their glasses.

“To the war,” Homer said.

“I’m ready to defend my country, Mr. Homer.”

They discussed the world war in Europe while sipping their champagne as Hitler was a

greedy man who wanted to conquer Europe.

“He won’t attack you now,” Homer said.

“The arms have been taken down the ramp, Excellency,” Atenagoras interrupted.

“Good job,” the president said.

“I’ll sell you more ammunition,” Homer said.

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They toasted to the armaments the president owned to punish his neighbours. A few

senoritas had joined them as music drifted through the air, and the president talked of his

country.

“We have the best women in the world,” he said.

“I believe you, Excellency,” Homer said.

“Let’s drink to that.”

“That’s a good idea, Excellency.”

The president talked as the sailors brought more wine and flirted with the young women.

The band played a salsa while everyone danced and a pretty girl stood by their side, her black

hair falling on her shoulders like a curtain. She smiled looking at Homer through long lashes

tinted with brown mascara.

“This is the coffee queen,” the president said.

“Hi,” she said.

“You are beautiful,” Homer said.

Sitting by his side, she pushed up her crown before it fell on the floor. It had to be hard to

be a queen. She had black hair, wide hips and a nice figure under her gown.

“Would you like to dance?” Homer asked.

“Yes,” she said.

Leading her along the floor, Homer looked into her eyes, getting lost in her perfume bought

in a cheap market, as Homer remembered that night in the jungle he had lost Kam forever.

“You dance well,” she said.

“Someone taught me.”

“Was it a girlfriend?” she asked.

“It might have been.”

He led her to his cabin where they made love until dawn brought light to the world. Homer

never saw her again. She vanished from his life just as all the other women he had known, but

then it was time to go. Atenagoras appeared with a suitcase.

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“I’m coming with you,” he said. “The president doesn’t mind.”

The president saw them off, while the band played a ranchera. The Odysseus had left its

precious cargo in the Caribbean as the storm went on in rest of the world.
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More business in the Caribbean

After leaving Salvacion, the ship sailed through the Caribbean Sea with a few tanks and

armament left in the cargo. Atenagoras knew of someone else in need of bombs and other

weapons of mass destruction somewhere in the world. Holding the railings, Homer tried to

keep his balance, as waves of nausea assaulting his senses. He had to rest before doing more

business in the Caribbean Sea.

“I’m going to bed,” he said.

“You haven’t greeted the crew yet,” Cesar said.

“I’ll do that later.”

Cesar followed him to his cabin, beneath the deck and with a view of the sea. After taking

his shirt off, Homer lay down in his bunk, shutting his eyes to the world. As Cesar brought him

another alka seltzer, the cool liquid purified his insides of all the bad things he must have

caught in the sea.

“Thank you,” Homer said.

He covered himself with the blankets, trying to forget his suffering, when he needed to

conquer the world. Then he remembered the tablets for the insomnia, Miguel had packed in his

suitcase to fight the night terrors and relieve the seasickness. Sitting in his bed, Homer fetched

his bag from the chair by the bedside table, sending a few things on to the floor.

“I want some water,” he said.

As Cesar brought him a glass of water from the jar on the table, Homer had his medicine.

“Sailors used to travel for months a long time ago,” he said.

“They must have had lots of fun,” Homer said.

“They had salty meat and hard biscuits with warms.”

“Why are you telling me that?” Homer asked.

“I want to make you feel better.”

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Homer imagined those times, when they didn’t have a cooling box to keep the food fresh,

while people died in the sea. Then he thought Cesar must have arranged the whole thing before

their journey.

“Captain Morgan hid a treasure in an island,” Cesar said.

“Has anyone found it?” Homer asked.

Cesar shook his head. “He must have hidden it very well.”

Homer thought of the pirates wondering what must have happened to their gold during the

last days of his life. It had to be terrible. He felt asleep, wondering about his purpose in life in

a world he had known before.

Floating through the ether, he went back to El Baratillo, where Maria welcomed him

wearing the same dressing gown she had the night of his wedding to himself. Thanks to the

tablets he had taken, Homer spent the next few days in a comatose state, dreaming of treasure

and beautiful girls full of charm.

“We’re near another island,” Cesar interrupted his dreams.

On opening his eyes, Homer found himself in the cabin with a view of the sea. He felt

better, as Cesar offered him another tablet.

“It’s vitamin C,” he said. “It will make you stronger.”

Homer heard the sound of music coming out of the loudspeakers. The crew must have

organised a party to enliven their journey through the ocean. Shuffling a pack of card he had in

his hands, Cesar got ready to play.

“I must have fainted,” Homer said.

“I played for you.”

“Thank you.”

Cesar expected him to play in spite of his illness, while talking nonstop about silly things.

The sky would darken, as the sound of the thunder echoed in the last days of humankind

because it had been written somewhere. Wondering about his words, Homer thought the man
162

had to be crazy or deluded. He must have invented the whole story to entertain him during his

time in hell, when Homer wanted to go back to sleep and forget his seasickness.

“The men wonder why we are still in the Caribbean,” Cesar said.

“What did you tell them?”

“We’re helping Hitler’s enemies in the world.”

“Well done.”

Checking some of the papers on the bedside table, Homer saw the last telegrams the ship

had received. A few countries had paid him lots of money in the name of peace. He read all

the offers of dollars coming from all over the world to help with the war effort. Asuncion

needed his arms to punish its enemies, even if it wouldn’t defeat Hitler’s plans of expansion

throughout Europe.

“They think you are a hero, Mr. Homer.”

“I know,” Homer said. “But you must have arranged everything.”

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Homer’s death

They arrived at a bigger and more powerful South American country a few days later, when

another president signed a cheque for thousands of dollars.

“The president of Salvacion wants to end with the world,” he said.

“I can bring you more arms if you want, Excellency,” Homer said.

The man smiled, showing a row of golden teeth. “Thank you.”

Opening a bottle of champagne, Atenagoras poured it in their glasses. He had to celebrate

Homer’s moment of glory in the Caribbean Sea.

“To my country,” the president said.

Homer raised his glass. “I hope you attack Salvacion.”

A few people danced as the orchestra played a ranchera and the president talked about the

security of the country amidst his enemies. Their borders had been under attack for some time,

even though, they had never done anything bad to anyone in the world. The president opened

more bottles of wine and the sailors danced with the girls, chanting bad things against

Salvacion.

“They have to be eliminated,” the president said.

“I agree with you, Excellency,” Homer said.

The president talked of his plans to take the island of Salvacion off the map. He had to end

with the bad countries in the region, bringing them closer to a revolution in the area.

“I need planes, canons and bombs,” the president said.

“That will teach Salvacion a lesson,” Homer said.

The sailors danced with the girls smelling of aguardiente and rum, while the president went

on with his revenge.

“We must attack at dawn,” he said.

“You have to get your arms first,” Homer said.

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The president wrote down in his diary everything he wanted Homer to bring, as one of the

girls sat on his lap, looking at him through long lashes. She had to be the president’s friends

because she kept on calling him darling, while caressing Homer’s face.

“She wants to love you,” the president said.

“I see.”

Holding her hands, Homer tasted the goodness of the Caribbean in her mouth, while he

talked of all his plans for her future.

“I’ll be richer than ever,” Homer said.

“You can marry me then,” she said.

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“I’m already married.”

Homer saw her eyes widening after his revelation, but he had to tell her the truth about his

life, while thinking of his money. He had promised love to himself amidst the boxes of coca in

the cellar and Father Ricardo had performed the ceremony.

“Your wife must be pretty,” the girl said.

“She has her charms,” Homer said.

Sitting on his lap, she drank aguardiente like a sailor and hiccupped like a madwoman.

Then he led her to his room, where they made love for some time.

“I want to have your child,” she said.

“My wife won’t approve.”

“She doesn’t know anything,” the girl said.

The festivities went on until the next morning, when the president and his entourage left the

ship. One of Homer’s boats sailing towards the Mediterranean Sea with a few old tanks had

sunk and the sailors died. Atenagoras gave him the bad news early next day. As Homer sat on

his bed, he thought of the consequences such a tragedy might have.

“Send a message to New York,” he said. “Tell them I was in another ship.”
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Atenagoras shook his head. “You were the captain, sir.”

“I missed the ship then.”

“They saw you inside it,” Atenagoras said.

Homer had changed ships once they had left port. Atenagoras called all the sailors to the

deck, where Homer waited.

“Dear men,” he said. “I have died in action in the Mediterranean Sea.”

They didn’t know what to say.

“Are you dead, sir?” a young man asked.

“I’m dead for now but medical science can perform miracles.”

The men were quiet as Homer packed his suitcases and Atenagoras put a few sandwiches in

a bag.

“Where are you going now, sir?” the man asked.

“That’s my business,” Homer said.

Homer spoke with Atenagoras in his cabin before departing.

“I’m leaving you in charge of the ship,” he said. “Take some of my bags back to New

York.”

“What do I tell your uncle?” Atenagoras asked.

“I’ll deal with him later.”

Looking at his image in the mirror, Homer saw a tired man without much hair. He had to be

a hero this time for the entire world to see.

“I’m ready,” he said,

“Good luck, Sir.”

“Thank you.”

They went to the prow, where a boat waited to be lowered to the sea. Homer had to get lost

in the Caribbean Sea while the news of his death went around the world. Homer’s friends in

New York couldn’t believe it, while they prayed for his soul in Colombia. He was a hero, and

as the night neared its end his name was in everybody’s lips.
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The adventure

The boat took him to a small island off the Nicaraguan coast full of palm trees. Homer spent

the next day thinking how to come back to life from the depths of the Mediterranean Sea.

Wearing a false nose and a moustache he went to the nearest shop to buy a newspaper and read

the bad news. The doomed ship had sunk and no one had survived the tragedy. After a quick

breakfast in the hotel cafeteria, Homer took a taxi to the nearest airport.

“I want to hire a plane,” he said to the young girl reading a magazine behind a sign that said:

administrator.

She looked at him, before putting the magazine down on the table. Hiring a plane had to

cost a lot of money and Homer didn’t look like a rich man. He waited as she called through the

microphone.

“Attention,” she said. “I need a pilot at the reception.”

A middle-aged man with a large stomach and without much hair appeared a few moments

later.

“I want to go to the Mediterranean Sea,” Homer said.

“They’re having a war there,” the man said. “Someone might shoot us down.”

Homer took his wallet out of his pocket.

“I want a small boat with food for a few days,” he said. “Then you’ll contact a ship to

rescue me on the third day.”

“That will cost you more money.”

“I’ll give you one thousand dollars more.”

The disappeared inside his office for a few moments while the girl and Homer looked at

each other.

“You’re weird,” she said.

Homer thought of his plan while he waited by the counter and then the man appeared again.

“I’ll take you to the Balearic Islands,” he said. “Someone will leave you in the

Mediterranean Sea.”
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Homer had not eaten anything but the man wanted to leave now.

“I have food in my plane,” he said.

He led Homer towards the rear of the building and by the hangar. As he stepped inside a

small plane, he noticed the two seats at the front with space for the equipment at the back.

Then the man started the engine as Homer fastened the seat belt. He dozed as they flew high

over the sea and opened his eyes later while clouds floated on the abyss. The pilot opened tins

of food and they had sardines and coke.

“We’ll spend the night in the Canary Islands,” he said.

Homer didn’t want to be inside the plane for another day and went to sleep after drinking an

aguardiente. He woke up later, as big waves battered a deserted beach outside the plane

window. The pilot’s voice took him out of his reverie.

“Welcome to Ibiza, Mr. Homer,” he said.

Homer wasn’t impressed. “I want the Mediterranean sea.”

“It has submarines and enemy planes.”

“I know,” Homer said.

The pilot thought rich people were strange. Bright sunshine hit Homer’s face as they went

down the steps to the tarmac. The airport had been built by the beach and the sea roared a few

metres away in a beautiful world. Homer revised his plans in the cafeteria, as he had to

convince the world he had survived the tragedy. Everything had been arranged for him to

emerge from the sea as a hero and nothing could go wrong.

“Someone is leaving you in the Mediterranean sea,” the pilot said.

Homer nodded. “They must rescue me the next day.”

“They know that.”

They discussed all the steps his rescuers had to follow to get him out of the sea. Homer had

a plan to emerge in triumph from his ordeal.

“You mustn’t worry about anything,” the pilot said.

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He led Homer to his hotel room, where he saw the sea stretching up to the horizon. The

pilot paused before leaving the room.

“Why are you doing this, Mr. Homer?” he asked.

Homer had to keep the secret of his death until the moment the world heard the news of his

rescue. The pilot promised to come early the next day, before leaving the room and Homer

heard planes roaring in the sky while he slept that night. Perhaps the enemy had confused the

Atlantic Ocean for the English Channel or the Adriatic Sea. He awoke as the pilot brought him

his breakfast.

“We must go now if you want to be shipwrecked by tomorrow morning,” he said.

Homer ate his toast while the man switched the radio on and the operator talked about the

war. Hitler’s army had moved throughout most of Europe as the Japanese conquered parts of

Asia.

“The Nazis must be defeated,” the man said.

They took a taxi back to the airport where the plane waited under the hot sun. They flew

over a blue sea full of mysteries but Homer slept for most of the journey after he had drank a

few aguardientes. He awoke as a Spanish radio presenter spoke of General Franco and Homer

thought he must be very important person. He was a fascist who had kept Spain free from the

war. Homer saw small waves shining under the sun outside the plane window and imagined

himself all alone in a small boat amidst the sea and with the sharks.

“Two and two are seven,” he muttered to himself.

After arriving at Ibiza, the pilot drove Homer along the beach full of sunbathers to the port

where a ship floated in the blue sea. Then a man with a round face and dark glasses appeared

by their side.

“I’m the intermediary,” he said.

“You have an unusual name,” Homer said.

He shrugged. “This is a war.”

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They had lunch inside the ship as the Intermediary told them of the Germans in France and

Italy, but they had left Spain alone under Franco’s rule. He had had many adventures running

away from the Nazis in the south of France where he had spied for the allies.

“I hate fascists,” he said.

Homer sipped his coffee thinking of the Germans taking over the world and getting his

money. The pilot had to go back to the airport to take a few people to the Canary Islands far

away from the war.

“Good luck,” he said before he left.

The Intermediary explained what they would do during the next few days, when Homer had

to pretend to be lost in the sea.

“We’ll leave you a few miles away from the coast,” he said.

Homer didn’t like to be alone in the sea. What about if a German submarine found him?

“We’ll be near you all the time,” the Intermediary said.

He gave Homer a few flares with the rest of his things. He had tins of coke, bars of

chocolate, caviar, biscuits and bottled water. Homer was scared as the man left him in a boat,

but the thought of being a hero helped him to overcome his fear.
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Shipwreck

Homer spent the first day reading the Financial Times under an umbrella the Intermediary

had given him, as the seagulls looked for food and the waves moved the boat up and down.

The fighting in Europe had destabilised the world economy, sending waves of fear in the

financial markets.

“Two and two are seven,” he muttered to himself.

As he floated in his boat, Homer thought of the arms he would sell to South American

countries, and while waiting for his rescuers to come, he did a few tricks with some cards he

had brought in his journey of discovery. He had to enjoy life amidst the waves of the sea. On

opening a tin of sardines, he watered it down with some coca- cola he had in his bag, before

resting. A few hours later, he had drunk a few more coca colas, pondering what to say to the

press in his moment of glory. The bomb had killed everyone else in the ship but God must

have loved him.

“I’m a genius,” he said to himself.

He waited for the rescuers to take him back, while pouring more scotch in his glass. On

looking at an atlas of the world he had brought to his adventure, he saw the Mediterranean Sea

bordered by many countries. Someone had to find him before night came with all the horrors

of the sea. Home wondered what had happened to his contacts, as lightning flashed in the sky

and thunder roared around him. The umbrella kept him dry but some of his food was spoiled

every time a wave came towards his boat. Night had come to this world of pain, while he

waited for his rescuers to arrive within the next few hours.

After sending a few flares up the sky, Homer spent most of the night throwing water out of

the boat with a bucket he had found under his seat. He fell asleep with his head on the bucket

around dawn, when he dreamed of sharks coming to eat him alive.

“Help me,” he called.

The roar of the sea interrupted his dream, bringing him back to reality in a new day full of

hope, while the fish feasted in the soggy food he had dumped over the sea. Scanning the
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horizon with his binoculars, Homer expected to see a ship in the glare of the sun. The waves

greeted him everywhere he looked.

“Where are you, Intermediary?” he shouted.

Then he noticed a man dressed in an odd costume, walking on the waves. He smiled at him,

stopping a few feet away from the boat. He looked like Jesus Christ in one of those paintings

mother used to hang on the wall. On shutting his eyes, Homer hoped the apparition had gone

away when he looked again, the silence bringing him back to reality. He took another sip from

his water bottle, while soggy bread calmed his hunger in his new reality, where monsters

conspired against him. His provisions had nearly finished that afternoon, when his lips burned

under the sun, and as he took a sip of sea water, he wanted to throw up the contents of his

stomach over the ocean. Then the sea turned into a skating ring, where Jesus Christ danced

with Maria Magdalene and the Virgin with Saint Joseph. As Homer sang the songs his mother

had taught him during his childhood, rain fell on the world, the waves fighting with each other

to get custody of his body. The other Homer had to be looking at him from Olympus instead of

rescuing Helen or whatever her name had been.

Night came again, the sea a black hole from another place far from reality, full of death and

desperation for a lost soul. Getting ready to spend another night in hell, Homer ignored the

lights shining around him, mirages of another world he didn’t understand amidst the darkness

of hell. By the time morning came, he rested with his head on the bucket, the waves moving

him up and down forever.

He spent the entire day eating the remains of food in his bag, where it had escaped the rain.

On dozing under the umbrella, he saw his parents swimming towards him, followed by Cesar,

Miguel and the intermediary. Homer scanned the horizon, hoping to find the land, even if it

had been invaded by the Germans, as lightning exploded around the boat. Another storm

threatened to throw his soul into confusion in the sea. Lying down on the bucket, Homer

imagined ghosts from another age looking at him through the fog, vanquishing his hunger

forever.
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On travelling through the mist, he saw his body from the air, waiting for the rescuers to

come for him. Big waves lifted the boat towards the heavens, before falling down in the abyss

of horrors. He floated in the breeze taking him towards a land full of trees in the horizon,

where the storm had not reached yet. It had to be a country free from the marauding enemy

forces finishing with Europe. On opening his eyes, he saw the blue sky beyond the umbrella he

had left by his side, the birds looking at him from the waves rising to infinity. He counted the

birds flying in the sky and the number of waves hitting the sides of the boat to pass the time.

Then he had forgotten all about food and water existing somewhere else he couldn’t reach.

Night came to the world once more, the waves turning into mountains, as his mouth hurt and

his muscles refused to move. He should have stayed in Uncle’s Hugh’s house in New York,

but then the tree of life appeared by his side, its branches reaching for the heavens.

“There are no trees in the sea,” he said.

Homer saw his backyard amidst the waves, as Kam appeared by his side. She had to be a

mirage like all the other things he had seen.

“I’m thirsty,” Homer said.

“You must drink the sea.”

“The sea?”

Filling a glass with water from the waves, she offered it to Homer, who turned his face

away.”

“I’ll die,” he said.

“You won’t.”

Homer didn’t know how a dream could solve his thirst, and he hated the taste of sea water.

Tired of talking to invisible people, he wished everything to be better, but a shadow waited

beyond the waves or it had to be his imagination.

“Help me to find the land,” Homer said.

Kam gestured to the distance, where the clouds hang in the sky. Then the shadows moved

towards his boat, yearning for his body lost in the sea....
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“Has everything finished?” Homer asked.

Kam nodded. “You must wait for the seven minutes.”

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Rescue

A man appeared by his side, and Homer told the hallucination to go away.

“I’m the Intermediary,” he said.

While Homer kicked and punched, he transferred him to a boat where other people waited.

As the Intermediary injected something in his arm, Homer slipped into unconsciousness,

shadows swallowing his mind forever. Waking up later, he found himself in a cabin with metal

walls, and some books by the bed.

“We thought you had died,” the Intermediary said.

Homer had difficulty swallowing the medicine the man put in his mouth or the sea water

must have damaged his throat. He had nearly died in that sea full of waves.

“It’s good for you,” he said.

The Intermediary had abandoned him for three days in the sea. He didn’t know anything.

“We couldn’t find you,” he said.

Homer wanted to say many things but no sounds came out of his mouth. He needed his

speech to sell his merchandise, and hated the Intermediary. People came to see him, their faces

looking worried, but then a girl sat by his bed. With big brown eyes and a short skirt, she held

his hand whilst muttering words of encouragement. She had to be a princess, coming out of the

sea to make him better.

“I’m Fifi,” she said.

Summoning all his strength, he managed to talk to her.

“Take me to your king,” he said.

“I don’t understand.”

“Aren’t you a princess?”

“I’m a journalist.”

She had to be wrong, but he wanted to rescue her from sea dragons and monsters. Fifi

didn’t say much. She smiled at Homer every time he looked at her.

“You must go back to the bottom of the sea, my princess,” he said.

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She smiled. “I’ll do that.”

Homer’s health improved under Fifi’s care, and as he sat at the table to have his lunch, she

muttered words of encouragement.

“Everyone knows you didn’t die,” she said.

“Everyone?”

“It’s the entire world.”

The three days lost at sea had confused Homer’s mind, as he remembered the tragedy where

his men had died at the mercy of the bombs. Tears streaming his face, he thought of a cruel

world keeping him alive amidst his pain.

“I should be with them,” he said.

“Don’t say that.”

As she passed him a box of tissues, he cried even more. Not understanding the God who

had spared his life for nothing, he cried on Fifi’s lap as she stroked his hair.

“We ran towards the deck, as the fire spread down below.”

“Why didn’t they lower the boats to the sea?” she asked.

“They were on fire.”

Kissing her hands, he looked into her dark eyes full of the joys of life.

“I love you,” he muttered.

“We have just met.”

He wanted to feel her soft body but she kept on writing. Feeling that urge to consummate

his love, he caressed her back while the rays of the sun fought with each other to reach her

heart.

“I remember my mates shouting,” he said.

“What did you do?”

“I tried to save them.”

Homer wanted to spend some more time with the young woman captivating his heart. Fifi

helped him to go to the window, where the sea went all the way to the horizon full of clouds.
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“I want to be with you forever,” he said.

She shrugged. “You must get better first.”

He cried in Fifi’s arms, feeling the magic of the woman who had brought him back to life.

As the waves roared outside the window, they made love in his room by the deck. He couldn’t

remember where he had seen her in the past but perhaps it had been in his dreams.

“You couldn’t talk this morning,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “You are my angel.”

It had been an exciting day in Homer’s life, when he thought he had died, but then the

Intermediary had appeared along with Fifi. He didn’t know what would happen in a world

hungry for the story of the man lost in the sea. The Intermediary appeared in the room.

“I have bad news,” he said. “A submarine is approaching us.”

“What do you want us to do?” Homer said.

“You must wait for further instructions.”

Moving towards the door, he paused in front of the mirror with a few heart drawn with a

lipstick.

“You were dying this morning,” he said. “Can you give tell me the medical cure?”

“It’s as mixture of love and caring.”

After the man left, Fifi applied her lipstick in front of the mirror, and Homer found the

clothes the Intermediary had left on the desk. She had to look nice if something else happened.

Sitting on the bed, Homer thought of all the things that had happened since he had flown to the

Mediterranean Sea a few days before. Feeling faint, he lay back on the bed, while she brushed

her hair.

“You must have had an exciting life,” she said.

“I have been to the jungle, where I found some manuscripts after escaping from a hut.”

“And you’ve ran away from the sea.”

“I know,” he said.
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They heard a noise as the light went off, leaving them in darkness. Holding hands, they

waited for something else to happen on Homer’s most important day of his life.

“Everything is fine now,” a voice said in the loudspeakers.

“Thank God,” Fifi said.

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New York

Homer’s strength returned under Fifi’s love. She helped him to recover from his ordeal as

they talked beside the sea where he had suffered so much. Leaving Homer alone with Fifi, the

Intermediary hoped the woman might bring him back to reality. They spent sunny days by the

sea, talking about lives in the outside world.

“I used to sit by the tree of life in my shop,” Homer said.

“The tree of life?” she asked.

“Jose used to call it that way. He was my invisible friend.”

“I see.”

Resting on her shoulders, he told her about all the times he had seen his friend amidst the

bushes of the garden.

“Was he real?” She asked

“I think so.”

Homer drew Jose’s face with his freckles and curly fair in a piece of paper she gave him.

He could never forget his friend with his invisibility gown and strange appearance. He must

have been his friend for eternity, before his mother had conceived him in that other country he

couldn’t remember.

“When will you see him again?” she asked.

“He’s my guide through time,” Homer said.

“I don’t understand.”

“Jose is eternal,” Homer said.

Looking at the sea, Homer imagined when he might see his friend again in his universe of

pain and money. Holding her hands, he kissed her by the rails, tasting her lips full of the

flavour of the sea. Homer wanted to love her forever or until his life ended in a rain of colours

filling the sky with the mystery of death.

“Look at that,” she said.

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They saw the statue of liberty appearing in the horizon, its arm rising in the sky, bringing

hope to the man who had nearly died under the German bombs. The Intermediary had cabled

the authorities of Homer’s return and cameras flashed as he went down the steps followed by

Fifi and the crew as journalists surrounded him. They wanted to be the first ones to hear what

Homer had to say. He spoke of his suffering when his ship had sunk in the depths of the sea, as

water came in and the fire consumed everything.

“Why didn’t you go down with the ship?” they asked.

“I wanted to drown with my sailors but the life jacket wouldn’t go away.”

Homer didn’t feel well and they had to help him to a limousine, where Uncle Hugh waited.

Confetti showered on them from the tall buildings while the car drove through the streets and

up to the hotel. As Homer hurried upstairs followed by his friends, he saw journalists waiting

in the lobby. Uncle Hugh ordered a bottle of champagne to toast to Homer’s luck. He was the

most famous person in the world at that moment, when the enemy had to be defeated.

“Tell me about your adventures,” Uncle Hugh said.

As Homer sipped his champagne he told them a tale of blood, tears and sorrow. Everything

had been terrible since the ship had claimed his friend’s lives, and Homer cried in Fifi’s arms.

“You’re fine now,” she said.

Uncle Hugh left as she comforted him with her kisses.

“Nothing will go wrong now,” she said.

They made love in the darkness of the room, while the clock on the bedside table ticked and

the cars hooted outside. The rays of the sun sneaked through the curtains as he awoke next

morning. Fifi had to be that sweet girl he had seen while he slept on his boxes in El Baratillo.

“I love you,” he muttered.

She offered her lips and her body to satisfy his passion. They rested in bed as his face

appeared in the newspapers of the world. Homer defies the sea, said in the New York Times.

The battles fought in Asia and Europe were nothing in comparison to our hero’s adventures.

Most people on earth learned of Homer’s daring moment, when he had challenged the elements
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to make his way into the hall of history. Hitler and Churchill lost all of their glory while

Homer’s star rose in the world. Fifi wrote a chronicle called: Alone between the sky and the

sea. It won the first prize in international journalism and the peace prize.
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Fifi in love

The journalist article of the writer Fifi was translated to all the languages and dialects of the

world. After giving a good account of Homer’s suffering in the hands of the sea and aboard the

boat of death, she spent many nights in Homer’s hotel room, where they made love until the

sun rose over the world.

“I love you,” she said.

He had found his perfect love in New York and outside the kingdom of his fantasies, while

Frolicking in bed, and spending most of their days in a cloud of ecstasy. They toasted to their

affair in a bar at the top floor of the Empire State building, feeling far from their problems.

They saw the city at their feet in the glass window and after drinking their espresso. Tiny

people moved through the streets, as drops of rain made the glass wet in the tallest building he

had ever seen. Homer held her hands, sharing the beauty of the world with the woman he loved

in his new life of fame and fortune. He had never felt like this even if he Lola had been his

love for some time but she belonged to the past.

“I dreamed of you while sleeping on my boxes in the cellar,” he said.

“Why did you sleep on boxes?” she asked.

“I’m an eccentric,” he said.

“I see.”

Fifi listened to his confession of passion in another place, where he had loved her as the sun

tried to emerge behind the mist of a hut. One day when he had tried to escape from the tribe,

the girl had run away from the emerging sun.

“You look like her,” he said.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

They had been together when the world had crumbled around their fee in his nightmares.

The sun shone outside the window as they kissed amongst the crowd of people looking at the

city from the heights.

“Make a wish to the god of heights,” she said.

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“I love you.”

“Make your wish then.”

He shut his eyes, imagining a world where they loved each other all day long but she

brought him back to reality with her kisses. On looking at the cars driving through the streets,

he wanted to be the owner of a city full of money. The clouds in the horizon were a gateway to

distant lands where the sun never set and submarines wandered the seas up to the end of time.

Lola had been an infatuation brought on by his youth, while Kam remained amidst the

mysteries of the jungle.

“Once upon a time I wanted to be the richest man on earth,” he said.

“You’re a millionaire now.”

Homer looked at the buildings in silence, thinking of his life since his birth under the dark

sun.

“You must love me forever,” she said.

“I’ll try,” he said.

“It isn’t good enough.”

Hugging her in the empire of the clouds, he had to tell her about his life before the bombs of

the enemies and the sharks of the sea send him towards money and fame.

“Once upon a time I used to live in a cellar with my dog,” he said.

She shrugged. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“And then I married myself.”

She thought it was a joke but Homer looked serious.

“It’s all legal,” he said.

He found a document inside his bag, confirming his marriage to himself in El Baratillo. Fifi

had never heard so much nonsense.

“Father Ricardo married me,” he said.

“He had to be mad.”

“I gave him money for his church.”

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“First you met me in the jungle and then you married yourself.”

Homer remembered that day when his sailors had brought salted fish and he had kissed

himself, as the birds flew outside the window. It had been the start of a new life when he had

wanted to be the richest man on earth.

“We had a party afterwards,” he said. “Amelia played with her dolls.”

“Amelia?”

“She’s Miguel’s daughter, the man who worked in the shop.”

Homer told her of that other life he had led long ago, before he had his money. He

remembered playing with his cars in the backyard, when his invisible friend had intruded in his

life and Uncle Hugh had visited from for the first time in his life.

“What happened to the widows?” she interrupted his narrative.

“They died,” he said.

“Died?”

“They drowned in the gutter.”

“Why did it happen?”

“It rained,” Homer said.

“I’m sorry.”

Fifi’s eyes widened as Homer seemed to finish with everything he touched. Death had

chased him for most of his life, when everything had ended in disaster. Homer had to find

some explanation to his bad luck chasing him everywhere he went on earth.

“I was born under a dark sun,” he said

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“My mother bore me to the world during a solar eclipse.”

“You must be a child of the sun,” she said.

Looking in his bag, he showed her a picture of the sun corona he kept as a remembrance of

his birth. The flames of the sun stretched into outer space engulfing the earth in a vision of hell

in the solar system.

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“It’s beautiful,” she said.

Dark clouds gathered outside the building, a storm threatening to mar their day above the

city. Homer imagined the birds looking for a shelter amongst the tall buildings in the city,

instead of taking the lifts like human beings did. Then he looked down at the small cars

cruising forever in the streets full of life but the storm threatened them in the kingdom of the

gods above the streets.

“We must go,” he said.

She nodded. “The sun has deserted you once more.”

Lighting exploded around the building while they made their way to the lifts. Homer had

brought the dark sun into their lives as he thought of the huts in the jungle, where Kam hid from

the world...
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The meeting

Fifi took him to the metro that afternoon amidst crowds of people doing their shopping or

going to work, as the train moved through the streets, buildings filed by their windows in their

journey towards infinity. They got off the carriage in a station with graffiti on the walls and

despair on its floor.

“I don’t like Brooklyn,” she said. “It’s horrible and dirty.”

Homer didn’t care where Maria lived so long as she gave him money. They received him

with due honours in her flat, where he was a hero.

“Homer is here,” Maria said.

Filing by his side, they all welcomed him, as a woman kissed his lips, and everyone wanted

to thank their hero. They all loved him.

“I’ve cooked a nice chicken,” Maria said.

“And I’ve made the sprouts,” someone else said.

“We must give our food to the hero.”

“Thanks,” Homer said.

Then Uncle Hugh appeared at the door. Looking tall and gaunt, the man had aged since the

last time Homer had seen him. It had to be all that worrying about his country in Hitler’s

hands. He hugged his Uncle, while everyone cheered to the hero.

“I’m glad to see you,” Homer said.

“You have suffered a lot,” Uncle Hugh said.

“Two and two are seven.”

Uncle Hugh smiled. “I knew you would say that.”

Sitting at the table, Homer sipped his drink. As Incense sent its fumes around the room full

of people, he wanted to go back to the hotel at the other side of the city, where no one would

disturb him but he needed more money.

“You must give us your autograph,” they said.

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Holding a pen, Homer signed their diaries and notebooks. He never believed he would be a

hero, worshipped by many people for defying Hitler’s ideas of conquering the world. Looking

at the line of people waiting for his signature, Homer felt the most important person in the city.

A woman slipped a note of love in his hand, full of lipstick: I love you, it said in big letters.

Homer shrugged. “I didn’t do enough to save them.”

“You saved yourself,” she said. “That is enough for us.”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Did you see monsters in the waves?” she asked.

“I saw big fish swimming around me,” Homer said.

“That must have been frightening.”

They talked about Homer’s adventures in the sea and how he had defied nature. No one

understood why he had not died after the ship had capsized. God must have helped him for

some reason.

“I should have died,” Homer said.

“Don’t say that,” everyone said.

He thought he had seen the sailors’ bodies consumed by the flames amidst scenes of panic

and desperation aboard his ship. Homer stopped his narrative to cry on Fifi’s arms, tears of

pain staining her silk dress with the colours of autumn.

“He was born under a dark sun,” Uncle Hugh said.

“I don’t understand,” Maria said.

“His mother gave birth under the shadow of a solar eclipse.”

“Hurrah to the Messiah,” they chanted.

Homer dreaded people talking about that childhood mystery, when he had opened his eyes

amidst the retreating shadows. It had been nothing important in spite all the problems he had

faced during many years of desperation.

Maria nodded. “He’s our holly man.”

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Some of the people knelt in from of Homer asking for his blessing, as the saint man of their

community on earth. God would give them power through his son, who had offered his life for

his country.

“We want to have Homer’s picture in the altar,” Maria gestured to a place in the room full of

candles.

“No,” Homer said.

“We adore you,” they said.

Homer heard of their plans to have his picture amidst the flowers they bought in the market,

a small price for the best man in the city. They ate chicken, rice and beans while Homer

thought of his birth in the dawn of time. Then they toasted to the liberation of their country

with champagne Maria had bought that day.

“To Homer’s health,” they said.

“Thank you,” he said.

Maria went around the room collecting money for the man born in the darkness, while the

people wanted to thank their hero. Homer saw a few of them signing checks to help with his

labour of love amidst mankind’s children. It had been a good evening full of laughter and

money, even if they had mentioned the dark sun.

“I thank all of you,” Homer said.

“We want to help our saint,” they said.

“I’ll never forget that.”

They dropped more money inside the basket, hoping that God get them to the kingdom of

heaven. Then Homer thought of the heads he had sent to New York after the Indians had died,

and Uncle Hugh had sold them somewhere in the city. He had done nothing wrong to anyone

in the world.

“We have raised a million pesos for Homer’s projects,” Maria interrupted his reverie.

“Hurrah,” everyone said.

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The bad omen had gone, but Homer still feared some kind of punishment for his actions, as

Fifi muttered words of comfort in his ear.

“You mustn’t be nervous,” she said.

“I’ll try,” he said.

“Think of your jungle.”

“I will.”

“And Kam.” she asked.

“What about her?”

The telephone rang and Maria answered it.

“The president of the United States wants to give you a medal,” she told Homer.

“Hurrah to our hero,” everyone said.

They went back to his hotel after Homer had made lots of money in the name of freedom. It

had been a good evening after all.

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The Dark sun

They were in bed when the telephone rang.

“That was Uncle Hugh,” Fifi said. “The press is waiting in the hotel lobby.”

“What do they want?” Homer asked.

“You’re famous now.”

Homer got ready while she brushed her hair and wore her best dress for his moment of

glory. He was a hero and the world wanted him. They stood in front of the mirror hand in

hand, admiring their reflection amidst the drawings someone had stuck to the glass. Then she

straightened her dress and pushed her hair out of her face. They had to look glamorous to face

the world.

“I’m nervous,” she said.

He hugged her. “It’s only the press.”

As they entered the lobby holding hands, the photographers struggled to take pictures of the

couple. Fifi looked radiant while they posed in front of the crowd, eager to interview them for

the papers. Passing his arms around Fifi’s shoulders, Homer tried to look cool for the press,

waiting for the best moment to ask their questions.

“Hurrah to Homer,” they chanted.

They had installed a microphone for everyone to hear Homer’s words, while taking pictures

from all the angles for the world to see their hero.

“What are your plans for the future?” they asked.

“I want to travel the world and meet people in distant lands.”

“Do you love her?”

“It’s my business,” Homer said.

“Tell us more about it,” they said.

“Not now,” Homer said.

“You are a hero.”

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As he posed for a few more pictures, Homer imagined the newspaper headlines the next day

talking about his love for the woman who had saved his life. He had to kiss Fifi for the world

to learn about his life after the tragedy in the sea.

“Did you see monsters in the sea?” they asked.

“What monsters?”

“Your girlfriend wrote about that in her essay,” they said.

Homer didn’t answer. Holding Fifi’s hand, he led her up the stairs, leaving the press

confused. Holding Fifi’s hand, he led her up the stairs, leaving the press confused by his actions

and his fear. It had to be all the trauma of his adventure. Fifi found him on the bed with a

pillow over his face. Tears ran down his face as he remembered those terrible moments of

gloom, when he had nearly died.

“The submarine is bombing us,” he said.

“It isn’t,” she said.

“I’m not sure.”

Homer talked of that moment when he thought death had taken his crew away. Hiding his

head in her chest, he smelt her scent, her teats trembling under his chin.

“This is your moment of glory,” she said.

Homer had to be strong to face a world clamouring for him, the fireworks interrupting the

darkness of the sky. They had to be celebrating his return from the sea downstairs or the war

had ended.

“I don’t want to die,” he said.

Stroking his hair, she protected him against the world. They talked of the first time she had

seen him after the Intermediary had injected the tranquiliser in his arm.

“Thank you for bringing me back to life,” he said.

“I had to do my job.”

“A job full of love,” he said.

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They made love under the sheets, as she helped him conquer the shadows of his soul. He

wanted to do so many things before joining his parents in their graves at the end time but he

had to remember something as Kam had said in the sea. It could have been his childhood or the

fact he had no friends.

“I never went to school,” he said.

“Why?” she asked.

“My parents were too busy with their lives.”

“I’ll teach you,” she said.

Bringing a few papers, she sat by his side, her breasts inviting him for some pleasure in the

bed. He kissed her skin, smelling of perfume and talc while thunder echoed around them.

“You’ll teach me tomorrow,” he said.

192

Another business

Holding a pen, Homer wrote a few words but it wasn’t enough. He had to write a proper

sentence with verbs and all. Homer loves money, he wrote in his best handwriting.

“It’s amazing,” he said.

“You can earn money as a writer,” she said.

Homer could write a page about boats by the end of the first lesson. He wrote his name and

part of his early life in the next few pages of the notebook.

“You forgot about making love,” she said.

Fifi taught him to understand the world, when New York awakened to the joys of spring and

love. Holding the pen, Homer practiced writing everything he had done since coming back

from the sea a few weeks before, when his life had changed beyond all his dreams. He had

written a few pages about his parents working in the shop and Uncle Hugh visiting them all

those years ago by the time they ate their lunch.

“I want to write an erotic novel,” he said.

“You must stop thinking about sex.”

“I can’t.”

Putting his pens aside, he climbed on her body, before she could protest.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said.

Thrusting into her, he forgot all his problems, his sperm running through her fallopian tubes

in their race to heaven. Lying by her side afterwards, he thought of the lessons she had taught

him, feeling the luckiest man on earth.

Homer wrote in his diary that day. He was an example perseverance and application, even if

he didn’t have Jaramillo or Father Ricardo to attract people to his long distance school. He had

written a few pages of his life before his fourth lesson and Fifi congratulated him.

“You are a genius,” she said.

“Thanks.”
193

Homer imagined future generations reading about his exploits, as they had breakfast

amongst the papers she had prepared for the lessons. Then he had another idea.

“We’ll teach people everywhere in the world,” he said.

“I don’t understand.”

“You could write the courses,” he said. “Every person has to pay one thousand dollars for

the classes.”

“I’ll write boring lessons,” she said.

“That is what I mean.”

Homer wrote down the price their pupils might have to pay to learn to read and write

properly. The first lesson would cost one hundred dollars but everyone would want to learn

with Homer, the best hero in the world.

“I’ll phone the embassies tomorrow,” Homer said.

“Why?”

“The ambassadors might want to learn Spanish.”

Fifi made a list of all the places they had to phone and the letters she would have to write

advertising Homer’s school. They had to think of seven reasons why people had to learn to

read and write in their first language before anything else.

“They will stop after the second lesson,” he said.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“People get bored sometimes.”

“But you’ll get the money.”

Fifi wrote the plans for the school she would have by mail, where her pupils would finish

before she taught them anything at all.

194

Eduardo

Fifi typed for most of that night as he prepared many cups of tea. She started with the basic

words of the language and went on to teach the grammar, and the rays of the sun came through

the curtains when she went to sleep next morning. She awoke as Homer ordered food from

room service later.

“We have to work,” he said.

Having asked for some time off in her journalist job to help Homer with his scheme, Fifi had

breakfast in bed, as he went through all the steps for his new enterprise.

“You must phone the papers,” he said.

Homer’s bank account had grown a lot during the last few years, giving him lots of

satisfaction.

“You don’t need another business,” she said.

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

“Two and two are seven,” he said.

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.”

Wondering about that sentence, she had a shower, and they made love for a last time under

the warm water of Eden. As she stepped through the room wrapped in a towel, she saw a letter

on the floor. It had a pretty stamp with the picture of a soldier saluting a flag. Eduardo Gomez

Ayala had heard about the course through the Mexican embassy. He wanted to learn to read

and write in Spanish properly. Fifi replied to his letter and Homer ordered champagne to

celebrate the success of his initiative. They had their first customer.

“He wants to meet me in a cafeteria by Central Park,” she said.

Homer shrugged. “You must do as he wants.”

Fifi wrote down the date of the appointment in her diary, as Homer massaged her back. He

had a way of convincing her of his plans.

195

“I want my new enterprise to earn money,” Homer said.

“You don’t ask me how I feel,” she said.

“I love you in my own way,” he said.

“It’s a weird way.”

Fifi prepared her first class after they had their lunch and while he looked at his reflection in

the mirror, because he loved himself more than anything else on earth. She found her best

frock in the wardrobe and styled her black hair, as he poured champagne in her glass.

“To our new customer,” he said.

She left the mark of her lipstick over the rim of her glass. Narcissus would never notice how

she looked so long as he had himself. She kissed him, before leaving the room to meet with a

stranger beyond Central Park.

“He will die alone,” she muttered to herself.

She thought about her life as she rushed to meet her first in a cafeteria by a launderette and a

pawn shop. Eduardo Gomes Ayala was a little man who had a big moustache and an even

bigger smile.

“You must be Fifi,” he said.

He shook her hand while she muttered an apology for being a few minutes late.

“I’m always late for my appointments,” he said.

One of the waiters came to their table holding the menu.

“I want a cup of coffee,” she said.

Eduardo read the letter about the course Fifi had prepared the night before, amongst the

encyclopaedias Homer had bought for their project, but then she felt his eyes searching her

heart. She smiled and fiddled with her gloves as he followed the contours of her body under

her new frock. Fifi didn’t like this man who studied her every move with dark eyes.

“I’m proud to meet Homer’s girlfriend,” he said.

Fifi knew that her picture had been in all the papers as he looked at the leaflets. He made

her uncomfortable but she tried to ignore it.

196

“I accept it,” he said.

“You must sign in the last page.”

Eduardo held her hands after he had done it.

“Will you go out with me tomorrow?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said

He shrugged. “You must be in love with Homer.”

A long silence followed his last words where he tried to read her soul, and she sipped her

coffee wondering why she had gone there in the first place. Then she heard his life story after

he had ordered some more coffee. Born into a middleclass family, he had not finished school

due to a few problems in his life.

“I used to hide in the toilet during lessons,” he said.

Eduardo had enrolled in the army. His father thought the discipline might reform his son’s

mind. That’s how he had started his career in another country where he hoped to attain the

pinnacle of his life.

“I’m training to lead my country.”

“Do you want to be a president?” she asked.

“I can’t say.”

They talked amidst the aroma of coffee and the noise of the other customers. She learned of

his duties in the army and how he wanted to be a famous man one day. He wanted to finish

with unemployment and raise the value of the peso. A Gran Colombia, just as Simon Bolivar

had done in the past.

“That’s why you want to do the correspondence course, I suppose,” she said.

Eduardo shook his head. “I wanted to meet you, my dear.”

No one had ever bought expensive courses just to meet her. Narcissist Homer would never

dream of doing anything for her or anyone else.

“You must help me with my studies,” he said.

197

He talked about his army training near New York, where he had learned how to attack the

guerrilla in the mountains. Nobody would dare to bother him as the new ruler of the country.

“We’re waiting to travel to Colombia,” he said.

Fifi felt attracted to the man, even if he intended to attack a country. They drank their coffee

amidst the noise of the customers and the smell of fried eggs and bacon.

“I must get ready for zero hour,” he said.

“What will happen then?”

“I can’t tell you.” He said. “You must keep the secret.”

Fifi nodded, while thinking of annihilation after the countdown had started in the last

minutes of a nation. He had something planned for the end of a government in the mist of time.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I’m a soldier.”

Then he kissed her hands smelling of coffee, making her hairs stand on end.

“You’re an exciting woman,” he said.

The man knew how to conquer someone like her with his charms and easy talk. As he read

the papers while sipping his drink, she looked at his watch.

“I have to go now,” she said.

“Homer must be waiting for you.”

“He’s busy with his business,” she said.

“He’s a bastard.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You’ll see.”

Fifi put the papers in her bag as he paid for the coffees. She didn’t know what to think of

Eduardo’s ideas and charm.

“I want to love you,” he said.

“I don’t know.”

“You must think about it,” he said.

198

Fifi found Homer sitting at the table, wearing a dressing gown and checking the first lesson

she had written as she arrived at the hotel room.

“How was your customer?” he asked.

“I have to teach him a few times a week,” she said.

“Tell him it’s a correspondence course.”

“He knows about that.”

Fifi thought of Eduardo while typing the first lesson. Homer treated her as his secretary and

they seldom slept together, but the business grew. She organised his money while girls ran

after him in the streets and he enjoyed his fame.

“I’m leaving in one of my ships,” he said.

“Can I come with you?”

Homer didn’t want a woman disrupting his plans, even if she had helped him with his life.

She wiped her tears, listening t his plans of conquering the world. He would talk of his life

when he had started from nothing until he made his money.

“Don’t you have any feelings?” she asked.

“I’ll send for you later,” he said.

He didn’t say when it might be or if it would ever happen.

“Don’t forget me,” she said.

He shook his head. “I’ll be in touch.”

“It isn’t enough.”

“What do you want?”

“I’d like you to be by my side.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I know.”

They would remember that sad moment up to the end of time.

199

A new life

Homer travelled to Washington, where he received a medal from the United States congress

in a sober ceremony attended by the heads of many democratic countries, three hundred

thousand soldiers, nine hundred thousand students and a lot of veterans of the world wars.

Stalin declared him leader of the Soviet workers and General De Gaulle kissed him repeatedly

in the cheeks. Bigger ships sailed under his flag as he sold arms to poor countries in Latin

America.

Uncle Hugh had gone back to Colombia some time ago and Homer hid in his house in the

outskirts of the city. His bedroom had a beautiful view of the city centre with its tall buildings

in the commercial zone. That’s called progress, Homer thought as he recalled the death of his

parents before he started earning his money. He planned to take the Indian manuscripts and the

head to a museum one day, where a scientist might be interested in them.

Homer imagined his name in glowing lights in a cinema, when the actor would go through

his painful years of hunger and distress, as he thought of future generations deciphering his

letters. He turned some of his experiences in his life into plays for the world to find out about

his growing pains. Fifi wrote a letter of several pages, telling him about his correspondence

courses. The end of the war had brought prosperity to the United States, and she had bought a

nice flat in Manhattan where she hoped to entertain him one day.

Wearing colourful shirts, Homer wandered the streets and no one recognised the millionaire

hiding away from the world. As Uncle Hugh went away for a few days, Homer remained in the

house, writing about his life. He remembered Maria, Lola, little Amelia and even the widows

drowning in the river after the rains, while drinking many cups of tea. Then he looked at the

manuscripts hidden in his suitcase and full of memories of Kam. The first sentence seemed

strange with those letters full of dots but then he seemed to understand the complexities of the

language Kam had spoken, in a world of shadows. The key to everything was in the first page

amidst the squiggles of the writing, and the words that didn’t mean anything. Homer had

grown a beard and his hair looked greasy by the time his uncle came back a few days later.
200

“What’s happened to you?” Uncle Hugh asked.

“Two and two are seven,” Homer said.

“I thought you wanted to buy a yacht.”

The word yacht brought Homer back to reality. A bunch of papers had sent him to a realm

of fantasy inhabited by ghosts. Uncle Hugh had a look at the papers with the suns and other

things.

“You want people to believe they’re important,” he said. “You’re a genius.”

The feeling of doom stayed with Homer as he put the manuscripts in his bag. He could lose

his mind but he had to remember something. Uncle Hugh offered him a glass of wine.

“We must toast to your yacht,” he said.

Homer raised his glass.

“To my future plans.”

The manuscripts rested in his bag as he watched television with Uncle Hugh that night.

They sent him into a realm of ghosts and madness, amidst lights in the sky and people

screaming in fear. Homer had to get rid of them before he lost his mind. He didn’t know

whether the manuscripts had been telling the truth or if they wanted to scare him out his mind

like everyone thought. He dreamed of the jungle and its mysteries that evening.

Homer had breakfast early next day, wondering about the manuscripts. As he looked for the

address of the Museum of Amerindian Culture in the telephone book, he found the place in a

middle class district in the north of the city. Homer had been there before he had travelled

around the world.

“The city has changed a lot,” Homer said.

“I can take you in my car” Uncle Hugh said.

Homer nodded. “I hate buses.”

After putting the map away, he brushed his teeth and had a shower. He thought of Fifi

working in the correspondence course in New York. He had loved her once, when his mind

had been cloudy by the effects of the war.

201

Putting the manuscripts in his bag, Homer followed his uncle to a red car parked by the

corner. They went past the commercial part of the city full of shoppers looking for bargains,

and stopped in front of a tall building with glass doors. The porter sent him to the first floor,

where Homer looked for an office. As he entered a room with white walls, he found a fat man

behind a desk. He stopped reading his newspaper and smiled at Homer.

“Mr. Homer,” he said. “I was expecting you.”

He gestured to the picture of a yacht with several floors, swimming pools, restaurants and

saunas. Homer read all about the vessel, before seeing some more pictures of the cabins and

the heliport on the top deck.

“I like it,” Homer said.

“It’s beautiful, Mr. Homer,” the man said.

“Fit for a king.”

“You’re right, Mr. Homer,” he said. “It costs two million pesos.”

Homer had enough money to buy the yacht plus a helicopter to bring his guests from the

continent. He wrote a cheque for the amount the man had said, a bit of paper, buying his

happiness.

“It’s in Santa Marta, Mr. Homer,” he said.

“I will fly there.”

“Good luck, Mr. Homer.”

Homer would have to go to the Caribbean coast with its sandy beaches and tourists to get the

treasure he had just bought. He only wanted one for the moment.

“I hope you have a nice time in your floating paradise, Mr. Homer.”

Homer smiled. “My yacht will survive forever.”

“I believe you, Mr. Homer.”

After leaving the shop with the keys for his new possession, Homer found the address of the

museum on the other side of the city. As he moved down the road, he remembered doing his

mother’s shopping in that area a long time ago. He saw ugly buildings instead of the shops he
202

had known, and then he found El Baratillo. It had been transformed into a big shop. He took

the lift up to the top floor, where they sold ladies’ underwear.

He wanted to complain to the local authorities, whilst looking at the bras and pants in the

lingerie department. Nothing remained of his old shop but he found the cellar behind the

ground floor with the tree in the middle of the yard.

“I used to live here,” he explained to the employee who came to see what he wanted.

His spirit had to be wandering around the tree and scaring the thieves who ventured into the

place. Homer moved down the street towards Miguel’s house on the other side of the market.

He put money every month in Amelia’s account but had lost touch with the family. An old

woman appeared at the door.

“They moved to another part of the city after their daughter joined the army,” she said.

He gave her Uncle Hugh’s address, missing Amelia’s laughter and wondering if Maria had

got married after he had taken her virginity.

“Tell them to get in contact with me,” he said.

“I’ll do that, Mr. Homer,” she said.

Wandering through the streets amidst the shoppers, he reached the cemetery, where he found

his parent’s graves behind a row of stones and crosses. No one had remembered his parent’s

tombs, as they lay in ruins, the moss conquering the plates with their names. Mother would

have complained about the path with bits of rubbish everywhere. Homer wanted to restore the

place for the souls of his parents to rest in peace.

Many things had happened in his life ever since he had helped in their shop, fate had led him

towards a brighter future full of the lights of Broadway and money. Homer had amassed his

fortune by exploiting human ingenuity. Wandering if Jose had been real or a product of his

imagination, Homer barked and some people turned to look at him in the street.

“Two and two are seven,” he muttered to himself.

The sound of a bird singing disturbed his world of remembrance and tears. He left the

cemetery through the narrow path and went back to the noise of the traffic. This was a country
203

in conflict, where poor people lived just a few metres away from the rich and powerful. Homer

remembered the widows he had tried to help but the rains had spoiled his good work. He was

Apostle Homer, the helper of the poor and oppressed. Tall buildings stood at either side of the

road like silent sentinels while traffic went past him and students protested in a corner. They

had placards accusing the government of injustice. People are lazy, Homer thought.

“The country united will never be defeated,” they chanted.

As he waited for a taxi, the students shouted at the police and a mob came towards him

holding anti-government placards. Homer ran for cover behind a car, projectiles flying in the

air as the vehicle went on fire. Someone led him to the safety of a shop by the square.

“You must be careful, comrade,” A young man dressed in a colourful shirt said.

He spoke of revolution. The country needed another leader to lead it through the right path

and finish with poverty.

“We must follow the Cuban example,” he said.

The day had turned sour, and dark clouds interrupted the light of the sun. The

demonstration had ended as they waited for the rain to stop, before the worst storm in human

history began.
204

Fifi

As Homer arrived at his uncle’s house, he found a letter for him. On opening it, he saw

Fifi’s clear writing, in a paper smelling of cologne and flowers. Their love affair had ended

some time before, but Homer had to face the future on his own. He read her clear writing

telling him how much she missed him, and she would arrive at six o’clock that evening. Homer

read that paragraph many times, trying to make sense of the news of her arrival into his world.

He had loved after his tragedy in the Mediterranean Sea, but now he had his yacht waiting

for him in Santa Marta. I love you, she had written at the end of the letter, reminding Homer

of their passion in New York.

A wealthy uncle had left her a few thousand dollars in his will, giving her a chance to travel

the world. Homer put the letter on the table while he had his lunch. On reading it again, he

wondered why he had left her, when she had loved him so much. He had to throw the letter

away before it finished with his world. As Uncle Hugh arrived later, he found Homer writing

in his notebook.

“Fifi is coming tonight,” Homer said.

“That’s good,” Uncle Hugh said.

“I’m leaving for the coast this evening.”

“I’ll entertain her,” Uncle Hugh said.

“She should have asked me first,” Homer said.

Uncle Hugh made some tea while tidying around the place.

Homer sipped his drink as fog surrounded his soul. He thought of Fifi’s arrival, while

looking at a picture of them after his rescue from the sea.

“I remember her wearing that dress,” Uncle Hugh said. “She looked gorgeous.”

“I loved her once,” Homer said.

“Why did you leave her then?”

“I don’t know.”
205

Homer should have stayed by her side in the city of opportunities. On looking at the clock,

he put the notebook in his bag.

“Are you ready?” Uncle Hugh asked.

Homer looked at the clouds gathering in the sky for the end of the world..

After driving through the city, they arrived at the airport. Homer thought of the first time he

had seen Fifi after his rescue from the sea, when she had helped him to remember the events

aboard the boat, when he had fought against the elements. A big building with a flat roof,

greeted them at the end of a street by a few motels for the pilots and the air hostesses to have

fun. Homer had his own life to consider, before joining Fifi in whatever adventure she wanted

to have now. A group of girls went past them, joking and laughing about something he

couldn’t hear or comprehend, as Homer remembered the times they had been happy after the

war had ended.

“The arrivals hall must be that way,” Uncle Hugh said.

On following him amidst the crowd, Homer reflected of his feelings for the woman he had

not seen for some time. He loved her even if they he had left her to find his luck in the world,

as a voice announced the arrival of her flight.

“We are just on time,” Uncle Hugh said.

They had arrived at a hall, where a few people waited for the passengers to file through a

door. After waiting for a few minutes, they saw they first people pushing their suitcases, before

greeting their friends or relatives. Homer waited to see Fifi wearing one of those ordinary

dresses and comfortable shoes she liked but then he saw an attractive blonde, who turned the

heads of everybody waiting in the lounge. The beautiful apparition came straight towards him,

and after kissing him in the mouth, she took her dark glasses off.

“Fifi,” Homer said.

She smiled. “You look lost.”

“Hi Fifi,” Uncle Hugh said.

“Darling,” she said. “I have also missed you.”

206

Homer pushed her case towards the nearest cafeteria. They didn’t have much time to talk,

before someone called his flight to Santa Marta. Uncle Hugh left them alone while he ordered

the drinks. Holding her hands, Homer remembered all the things they had done during their

time together in New York.

“I’ve had an operation to enlarge my breasts,” she said.

Touching her chest, Homer felt it hard. That is why she looked so voluptuous, enhancing

her curves and sex appeal. He kissed for some time, his hands exploring everything new about

her breasts.

“I have missed you,” she said.

“Prove it to me,” he said.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

Putting his arms around her shoulders, he felt her scent while the world flew away from

them. Homer lost count of the minutes they remained in each other’s arms, surrounded by lots

of people in a busy airport. A tap in his shoulders brought him back to reality.

“I have brought you something to drink,” Uncle Hugh said.

“Thank you,” Homer said.

Sitting down at the table, he sipped his drink, while studying Fifi’s transformation. She had

changed so much since the last time he had seen her. Looking into her eyes, Homer didn’t need

words to tell her how he felt as he remembered that day he had been rescued from the sea a few

years before.

“Would you come with me to Santa Marta?” he asked.

“I don’t have a ticket,” she said.

“I’ll get you a ticket,” he said. “I’ll buy the whole plane if you want.”

“But...” she said.

Homer held her hands. “You mustn’t talk.”

207

He felt in love once more, while she returned his caresses and Uncle Hugh looked away.

Homer wanted to enjoy a new chapter in his life with the woman he had loved with all his heart

in the dawn of time.

“It’s time for your flight,” Uncle Hugh said.

“Come with me,” he said.

“I don’t know,” Fifi said.

Leading her to the ticket office, Homer explained his problem to the woman sitting behind

the window.

“We don’t have any more seats,” she said.

He took his check book out of his pocket.

“How much do you want?” he asked.

A middle aged man came towards them, interrupting the conversation. Homer thought he

was another passenger and pushed him aside.

“How are you, general?” Fifi asked.

Homer watched as she kissed him.

“This is General Gomez Ayala,” she said. “He’s my fiancé.”

The man shook Homer’s hand.

“You must be Homer,” he said. “I have heard a lot about you.”

“He studied your correspondence courses,” she said.

Homer couldn’t believe Fifi’s ingratitude, as he moved towards the departure gate. She

should have told him about the general, instead of leading him on. Looking in his bag, he gave

the man a card with phone number of the yacht. He had to do business with Fifi’s fiancée, even

if he didn’t like him much.

“I’ll keep our business a secret,” he said.

208

The general

EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT

We see the top part of a yacht. The seats, the floor and the walls are luxurious. We notice the

movement so typical of all ships. It makes sailors walk the way they do.

We hear the quiet noise of the engine and the racket of the waves. A reason to believe we’re in

high seas. It’s night time. On the top of a mast, we see a seagull.

The seagull opens his left eye. That’s the one he shows to the public.

SEAGULL

I forgot to take the tablet of Sinogan. I couldn’t sleep last night.

She puts her head under her wings and coos. A young woman appears at the door. She has

platinum blond hair, electric blue eyelashes, a forty plus brassier and sensual lips. Measures:

94-39-90

She wears a long gown, the colour of dry wine. It moulds onto her vibrant anatomy perfectly.

Bronze skin peeps out of all the holes in her dress.

She sighs deeply and her forty plus bra seems in danger of blowing up.

FIFI

Alone between the sky and sea!

As she sighs, she defies the stability of her bra.

FIFI

The night and the sea are the sailor’s love.

The seagull opens her eyes.

SEAGUL

I can’t sleep and this sleep walker comes here to say stupid things.

Fifi looks at the seagull.

209

FIFI

Poor bird, are you cold?

SEAGULL

The night is a bit fresh. Do you happen to have a sinogan?

FIFI

What is it?

SEAGULL

It’s a sleeping tablet.

FIFI

I don’t sleep with tablets. I usually sleep with my husband but if I want to have

fun, I use a friend.

A middle-aged man appears. He wears a captain’s uniform with a white shirt, trousers and

shoes. She turns to look at the newcomer.

FIFI

Homer, my darling.

She kisses him.

HOMER

What is my blond angel doing here, all alone?

FIFI

My captain, I asked this little bird who was the greatest sailor in the world.

HOMER
210

I’d like to be the greatest pirate of them all, just for you. You’re my treasure but I

can’t hide you in the most remote part of the Caribbean.

FIFI

We must think on hiding ourselves for the moment.

HOMER

Generals are usually very nice.

FIFI

My captain won’t remember me tomorrow.

SEAGULL

At least I’ll have a nice time.

HOMER

My love will follow you everywhere, just like a good dog.

FIFI

I do believe you’re a dog.

HOMER

I feel like a schoolboy in love.

SEAGULL

I also see that soap opera.

FIFI

This is our last night. We’ll be far from each other by tomorrow.

HOMER

We should be on our own now, if the general doesn’t disturb us.

FIFI

The general sleeps as deeply as a first line trench. Nothing wakes him up.

HOMER

He’s like an antitank ditch.

211

SEAGULL

Perhaps this general made the Maginot line.

Cardinal Anastasio appears. He wears a red skirt with golden things, a triple crown with a

diamond cross, plus socks and shoes the same colour as the skirt. He moves with majesty, like

a tanker getting ready for a fight. Measurements: 94-344-480

His deep and authoritative voice seems to come out of his rounded stomach.

He coughs.

CARDINAL

I’m sorry for the interruption bur I think I’m early. I was praying and talking to

my God, like I’ve done since I took my vows.

Fifi and Homer kneel down on the floor.

FIFI AND HOMER (In unison)

Your highness.

The cardinal blesses them, while reciting a few things in Latin.

CARDINAL

Stand up now, my children. God will be with you forever.

They rise from the floor and straighten their clothes.

HOMER

Your highness, I want to thank you for visiting my modest ship.

CARDINAL

You’re the modest one.

FIFI

It’s an honour to have a prince of the church with us in this important journey. We

feel as if we were travelling with God himself.

CARDINAL

My daughter, we, the shepherds have to be with our sheep. By the way, hasn’t
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Aurita arrived yet?

FIFI

She has been delayed because the admiral felt seasick today.

HOMER

She should be here soon. We can have a glass of wine while we wait.

CARDINAL

Homer is a prince. God must bless him.

SEAGULL

The lady in red must be pregnant.

Homer gives orders to a nearby sailor.

HOMER

I thank your highness once more. My activities do need the protection of the

Almighty as they have a patriotic quality.

FIFI

Homer is almost the father of freedom. I think they have erected a few statues in

his honour.

HOMER

Stop saying foolish things.

CARDINAL

Don’t be so modest. We all know of the long days you spent in a boat in the

middle of the Atlantic.

HOMER

I did what anyone else would have done.

FIFI

I wrote between the sky and the sea in your honour. It’s hard not to notice the

glory of a great man.

213

SEAGULL

The smallest ship that man knows is the Queen Elizabeth II.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT

A few sailors put bottles, buckets with ice and jars with flowers on a table.

CARDINAL

I wonder what has happened to Aurita.

FIFI

Love is beautiful.

HOMER

It’s the substance of life.

The cardinal sighs.

CARDINAL

I’m in love.

FIFI

They’re like a couple of doves. It must be a blessing for Aurita to be in the heart

of a prince of God. You must have been a good looking man when you were

younger.

CARDINAL

I’ve loved God and my fellow human beings all of my life.

HOMER

God protects his apostles.

CARDINAL

I’ve been serving eternity for a long time. It’s not a bad thing to have my own

pleasures.

CUT TO

EXT YATCH-EVENING
214

Homer pours wine in the glasses and the guests come to the table.

HOMER

I toast for a saint apostle and the most beautiful woman in the world.

CARDINAL AND FIFI (In unison)

Thank you.

They all drink.

SEAGULL

This will be a long party. I’m glad I didn’t take sinogan.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT

A beautiful tanned girl appears. She wears a long black dress. It opens at the sides up to the

hips, showing her light pink pants. Measurements: 8-31- 82

She styles her hair like Cleopatra before she met Mark Anthony. Her eyes are black, her teeth

white and her lips pink. She looks like Aphrodite, but with a pair of well shaped arms.

CARDINAL

I think an angel has arrived.

Aurita kisses him.

HOMER

That’s love.

FIFI

How about us?

Fifi and Homer kiss each other.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT

The girls sit on the men’s laps.

SEAGULL

What are these people doing?

215

The cardinal offers Aurita a glass full of wine.

CARDINAL

Have a glass of wine, my darling.

She drinks almost all of it.

AURITA

I leave a little bit for my saint.

CARDINAL

I’m drinking your delicious blood.

AURITA

You don’t want to be a vampire.

The cardinal caresses the embroidery in Aurita’s light pink pants.

CARDINAL

I’ve given them to you, haven’t I?

AURITA

I’m wearing them just for you.

CARDINAL

You must take them off later.

SEAGULL

The woman wearing the red skirt wants to eat the other one.

The admiral appears. He’s wearing his uniform with many medals. As they hear the noise they

make, the women step away from their men.

HOMER

We waited for you, Admiral. How are you?

The admiral mumbles something. He goes past the women and kneels in front of the cardinal.

ADMIRAL

Good evening, your highness.

The cardinal blesses him.

216

CARDINAL

God has taken pity on your soul.

The Admiral stands up. He greets Homer, hugs Fifi and kisses Aurita.

AURITA

How is my sea wolf?

ADMIRAL

I’m a bit seasick. I might feel better later.

Homer gives him a large glass of wine.

HOMER

My dear Admiral, you’ll be all right after taking this medicine.

FIFI

I wonder what has happened to my general.

The admiral sips his wine.

ADMIRAL

He’s looking for the sun.

CARDINAL

I didn’t remember he’s a general of four suns.

SEAGULL

That man must be burned. One sun is enough for me.

AURITA

Admirals should be of four moons.

HOMER

It’s a good idea.

FIFI

It’s romantic.

SEAGULL

Having four moons must be good for a good sleep.

217

After Homer has a word with the sailors, music drifts around the ship. The Admiral has

finished with his drink.

ADMIRAL

This wine is like a woman’s milk.

CARDINAL

It should be the opposite. The milk of a woman should taste like this wine. When

God left us his blood he never thought in milk or water.

AURITA

I believe this saint man really talks to God.

A general with four suns appears in the scene. He has them in his splendid uniform with a

golden sword. Everybody stands up.

HOMER

Hurrah to our future president!

EVERYBODY

Hurrah to the president!

GENERAL

Thanks to you all! To the saint cardinal who accompanies us in this adventure of

our country, to the great homer who gives us arms for our freedom and to our

great women who give us their example of sacrifice.

Homer fills up the glasses with wine.

HOMER

We celebrate this historic moment by drinking to our general’s victory.

GENERAL

Thank you.

CARDINAL

I toast for the general’s sacred sword sustaining our religion.

218

GENERAL

I ask for the protection of God and the army.

ADMIRAL

My general, the forces under my command recognise you as a new head of state.

GENERAL

Thank you.

AURITA

Tonight is the start of the dawn of a new country. Hurray to the general!

EVERYBODY

Hurray!

FIFI

I’ll be with you whatever happens.

They all seem to be affected by Fifi’s declaration of love. Aurita wipes a few runaway tears.

SEAGULL

Where do they keep the suns?

Homer opens a few more bottles and replenishes the empty glasses.

CARDINAL

We’ll have the military coup tomorrow. It’s necessary to stop that idiot.

GENERAL

Homer’s arms are first class. They’re a bit expensive but when you think in the

noble cause, anything else doesn’t matter.

HOMER

The price is not very high if you consider a few details.

GENERAL

I appreciate Homer’s exemplary attitude. I can assure you we’ll win. Our group is
219

regular and all the army backs us.

ADMIRAL

We back our general unconditionally.

CARDINAL

We also back him spiritually. The church has better arms than canons. We

have one or two tanks, of course.

GENERAL

We are invincible with powerful arms, organisation and God’s blessings

CARDINAL

We have to tumble those idiots. I haven’t been changed my Cadillac and

luxurious cars for the last two years.

FIFI

Two years?

HOMER

Two years?

CARDINAL

They’re ungrateful and atheist. I have only a chalet by the beach, after helping

them with their coup.

AURITA

Imbeciles.

HOMER

It’s terrible to see a prince of the church in such a state.

220

GENERAL

We’ll erase all of this tomorrow. My government recognises religion as the basic

pillar of society. Your highness will receive the treatment corresponding to your

hierarchy.

EVERYBODY

Hurrah to our new president. Hurrah!

FIFI

Your highness, religion has gone down the drain lately. We have communist

bishops, married priests, naked nuns, crazy Franciscans, bad Jesuits, bigamist

Dominicans, destitute saints, canonised footballers, archangels who have been

warned, cherubs working for the Metro Goldwin Mayer, virgins with no reference,

Adam and Eve without an apple and a snake, Jesus Christ trying to pass a driving

test.

CARDINAL

That’s why we need good governments, like the one formed by tomorrow’s coup,

to take the reigns of our country. They must proliferate all over the world. I hope

the general doesn’t forget my needs.

GENERAL

You’ll have your new chalet.

CARDINAL

You’ll have my blessings.

GENERAL

Thank you, your highness.

CARDINAL
221

I’m at your orders, Your Excellency.

AURITA

He’ll have his new Cadillac and luxurious cars.

GENERAL

Of course.

SEAGULL

I am hungry.

ADMIRAL

We need a strong government for our people. That’s why we’re here tonight. We

must bring order to the country and back our church. Priests have to pray more.

CARDINAL

You speak of sanctity and virtue.

GENERAL

With a good quantity of canons, we’ll arrange all of this.

ADMIRAL

We can’t forget the tanks, ships and submarines.

HOMER

I have very good submarines for you.

GENERAL

Thank you. We can show them in the parades.

ADMIRAL

Well, sometimes we use them in manoeuvres.

HOMER

My submarines must be protected against humidity.

ADMIRAL

That’s very good. Sea water finishes with everything.

GENERAL
222

A parade with no submarines is like a party without drink.

AURITA

Without music.

SEAGULL

And without any food.

HOMER

We must have music. We’re too solemn.

FIFI

I want hot music.

Homer exits through the door as the sailors return with more bottles. They clean the table and

change the floral decoration.

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT

Modern music floats around the ship. The cardinal and Aurita dance, while Homer dances with

Fifi. The general and the admiral dance with each other.

The cardinal falls down on the floor. Everybody rushes to his help. Homer takes him to the

nearest chair and offers him some wine.

CARDINAL

I can’t cope with this modern music. In my times, we danced minuet and bolero.

He touches his head.

CARDINAL

Where is my crown?

Everyone looks for his crown. Fifi finds it under the table. The cardinal puts it back on his

head while crossing himself.

The tune of a romantic bolero drifts about the place. The cardinal dances with Aurita while

limping. He gets as close to her as his abdomen will allow him. Homer and Fifi hide in a

corner. The militaries drink and talk about their plans.

CUT TO
223

EXT. CORNER IN LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

HOMER

You’ll be a queen tomorrow.

FIFI

And you’ll be my prince.

HOMER

That will be the general.

FIFI

He’s only my consort prince.

He kisses her.

HOMER

You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.

CUT TO

EXT. DANCING FLOOR IN LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

CARDINAL

Homer knows about strategies. Look where he has taken Fifi.

AURITA

Let’s follow their example.

His highness limps with Aurita to another corner, where they kiss each other.

CUT TO

EXT. DANCING FLOOR IN LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT

Homer and Fifi dance at the tune of a bolero.

EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT

GENERAL

The destroyer will be ready tomorrow then…

ADMIRAL

Those people won’t survive.

224

GENERAL

We must have an airplane ready to send the president into exile. I’m feeling

generous.

ADMIRAL

You have always been generous, my general.

GENERAL

I only want to spill enough blood for out coup.

ADMIRAL

Good.

GENERAL

You must be ready to take over the ministry of war, my dear admiral.

ADMIRAL

I’m overwhelmed with your generosity.

GENERAL

We have to sign Homer’s cheques today.

ADMIRAL

Don’t worry my general. He’ll take care of that.

GENERAL

What a man!

ADMIRAL

He’s a shrewd businessman.

GENERAL

Let’s drink another one.

They drink more wine.

ADMIRAL

Our women are saints

GENERAL
225

They’ll be the first lady and the minister’s wife. We have to give them beautiful

decorations.

ADMIRAL

We’ll honour the wives of the neighbouring presidents and their ministers.

GENERAL

It’s good for the diplomats.

ADMIRAL

We need titles and honours.

GENERAL

Leave that to me.

ADMIRAL

A few more medals wouldn’t be bad for us.

GENERAL

That is one of the indispensable things.

They drink more wine.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT

The boleros have stopped and everybody is back at the table.

ADMIRAL

Your Highness dances very well.

CARDINAL

I’m bothering your beautiful wife. She’s very nice.

AURITA

It’s an honour for me to be next to your highness.

ADMIRAL

It’s for both of us.

226

CARDINAL

You’re very kind.

The sailors bring more food and wine.

HOMER

I’m honoured to dance with the first lady.

FIFI

Your yacht is visited by people of high society.

GENERAL

Real queens have been here.

HOMER

I’ve never had anyone like you.

CARDINAL

The pope has been here on holydays.

ADMIRAL

The Aga Khan has also been here.

AURITA

And Miss Universe.

CARDINAL

And the Lay Lama.

HOMER

I have fulfilled my aspirations tonight.

GENERAL

Thank you very much, Homer. I’ll never forget it.

They drink to Homer’s honour. More bottles of wine arrive as the music of a ranchera drifts

about the deck.

CUT TO
227

EXT. DANCE FLOOR IN YACHT- NIGHT

The couples dance. The general shoots his revolver while the admiral does that with his pocket

machine gun. The cardinal passes wind.

SEAGULL

They make too much noise. I was falling asleep.

Aurita and the cardinal talk as Fifi and Homer whisper to each other. The militaries go back to

the table while the others dance.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

GENERAL

We have enough wine to calm our nerves.

ADMIRAL

This is a very important moment in our life.

GENERAL

We need a new government…

ADMIRAL

To give us happiness for the rest of our days.

GENERAL

Homer can be very useful.

ADMIRAL

He’s an important person.

GENERAL

He’s very important for our personnel.

ADMIRAL

We should have at least eighty generals and as many admirals.

GENERAL

That’s ready. I have two hundred vacancies for our friends.

228

ADMIRAL

We must have many more.

GENERAL

There are three generals for each soldier at the moment. It would be ideal to

have an army of only generals.

ADMIRAL

And admirals.

GENERAL

Of course.

The sailors bring some more bottles of wine as the ranchera comes to an end.

HOMER

My distinguished guests, now that we’re in this spirit of political solidarity, you

must sign my cheques.

GENERAL

This is the most important part of our meeting.

ADMIRAL

I have a short speech bought from the national factory.

GENERAL

I’ve bought another one in the same place.

The sailors bring a table covered with a green cloth. It is full of papers, pens, typewriters and

calculators. A man without much hair bows in front of the people and sits at the table. They all

gather around the table, except for the general, who looks at his medals while standing up.

GENERAL

Good evening your highness, ladies and gentlemen.

We have gathered here today to write history. Tonight, in the middle of the sea

and under the light of a thousand constellations, I swear on my sword…

229

He waves his spade and cuts the tail of the seagull as he eats tuna from the plates.

GENERAL

…to save my country from the chains. I’m prepared to offer my life for my

people.

They applaud.

GENERAL

We need faith and dignity, greatness and altruism to give our people peace, justice

and bread.

They applaud again. The seagull sips some wine from a glass and also applauds.

GENERAL

We come back like the Spartans with the emblem or over the emblem.

They cry, applaud and drink wine.

GENERAL

Dawn will find us in the trenches defending our country, who taught us love from

the cradle, with our mother’s tears and the efforts of a dying father. God, Christ

and freedom! Here is a saying of my government: for the country and to the

country.

They applaud. The general searches for his glass to refresh his mouth but the seagull has

finished with the wine.

GENERAL
230

I invite you to follow my comrades. If I go back, kill me. If I die, look for

revenge.

They all hug the general. Fifi and the seagull kiss him in the mouth while the cardinal

straightens his crown and gets ready to speak.

CARDENAL

In this night full of faith and hope I want to represent the catholic people of my

country, to tell our leader that we’ll follow him beyond death, if it’s necessary.

They applaud.

CARDINAL

On the twenty seventh of October of the year 1312, the emperor Constantine found

the troops of his rival Magencio twelve kilometres away from Rome. He called

the Christian God while turning his eyes to the sunset. He saw a luminous cross

with the following words: With this sign you’ll win. He was promoted at this

moment as Jesus Christ, God of the armies.

They applaud.

CARDINAL

That’s why at this solemn moment of our lives, we turn our eyes towards God, and

find his words: with the saint cross, we’ll have victory.

Everyone goes mad.

CARDINAL

I’ll give you now the papal blessing. It includes plenary indulgence.

They all kneed on the floor, including the seagull. The cardinal prays in Latin while pouring

holy water around him. The seagull doesn’t like it and goes back to the food. They all

congratulate his highness.

231

HOMER

General, supreme boss, protector and father of our country: I had never seen such a

unanimous opinion about our government. I have the honour of showing the

receipts where your signatures prove the courage of your hearts.

The general goes to the table, reads a few lines of the document and signs it. The admiral also

signs without reading the paper. The cardinal ads postdate: don’t forget the ten per cent. Then

he signs it.

HOMER

I want to offer the pens we have used in the ceremony to our ladies.

He gives one to Fifi, another one to Aurita and the third one to the seagull.

The admiral drinks some wine, clears his throat and gets ready to talk.

ADMIRAL

General, supreme boss, admiral, protector and father of our country, the cardinal,

ladies and gentlemen: I want to say a few words in this day, when we decide the

future of a free country. Since the birth of our nation, a few ethnic races have

come to America. It opened its entrails to the Iberian race, pregnant with God, and

to the black torrent of Africa. All of this was mixed in the new land and new

hearts.

They applaud.

ADMIRAL

In between the paths of the virgin jungle..

CARDINAL

This is not a good moment to talk about virgins.

ADMIRAL
232

In their perpetual fight against a hostile medium, our ancestors grew in the highest

Andean mountain, the tree of a victorious Christ against the moors in Lepanto.

They applaud.

ADMIRAL

The generous blood made plants grow next to the cross. It turned into the

chastity of our women, charity in the toughness of our men, and sanctity with

the beats of the sword. The eternal reflex of the sea changed into a pyramid of

light in between paths of hope and amidst dawns full of awe. The weeping of

children sent a choir to the wind, forming the first notes of the symphony of

America.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

The seagull eats the fish swimming in the aquarium.

Homer shoos him away.

HOMER

Stop it.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

ADMIRAL
233

Atahualpa and Gaspar joining their titanic forces over mountains full of

snow, wrote the last page of the Inca culture…

CUT TO

CARDINAL

I think the admiral wants to tell us the history of America

AURITA

I’m a fan of the America football team. He doesn’t have to talk of all the games,

citing the classics would be enough.

CARDINAL

The last classic finished 2-2.

AURITA

We should dance.

The cardinal disappears through the door.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT –NIGHT

The music of rancheras drifts through the ship.

MUSIC

The day I die, it will be by four gunshots…

ADMIRAL

…When the warrior talent of Pizarro met the idolatrous Indians, celestial fire took

the last Inca in front of his first cause. He…

234

MUSIC

He didn’t have time to go on his horse…

The cardinal gestures to Aurita.

CARDINAL

My love, can we escape while the admiral remembers our country?

They leave the scene.

ADMIRAL

Loyalty to the institutions is one of the duties of a patriot.

The general decides to dance with the seagull after drinking some more wine.

CUT TO

EXT- LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

Homer sits close to Fifi.

HOMER

His highness stole Aurita.

FIFI

It’s natural. Her husband’s mind is in Cusco now.

CUT TO

ADMIRAL

….And then the Incas, suffered in rivers of blood…

The general looks at the seagull.

GENERAL

What’s your opinion of the miniskirt?

CUT TO

ADMIRAL

…From the Orinoco, the water is full of remains…

MUSIC
235

I’m drinking like a madman…

CUT TO

Homer and Fifi sit holding hands.

HOMER

Our general of four suns hasn’t had much sun.

FIFI

We must give him the sleeping drug.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

The general dances with the seagull.

GENERAL

Do you like the music?

SEAGULL

I prefer rock.

CUT TU

ADMIRAL

…And then freedom grew like a tropical plant. One of those creepers climbing

forever towards the light, without looking at its own whiteness, because it counts

its energies…

MUSIC

If they tell you, they saw me very drunk…

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT

The music has stopped and everybody has come back to the table. Homer pours a few drops of

sinogan in the general’s cup.

SEAGULL

They told me nothing was good for sleeping.

ADMIRAL
236

…The centaurs of freedom broke their arrows on the armours of the sons of El

Cid…

They all drink and eat.

CUT TO

GENERAL

Our admiral is still talking. I’ll give him a glass of wine.

After pouring wine in a glass, he gets near the admiral.

ADMIRAL

…The great achievements of the Iberian race, which couldn’t fight against its own

children in whom…

He sips wine from the glass the general has offered him.

ADMIRAL

…The seeds of his genius proliferate…

CUT TO

HOMER

The admiral is a master of rhetoric without any doubts.

GENERAL

I’ll ask him for a copy to edit in the official paper. I think it’s very interesting.

HOMER

Do you want another glass of wine, general?

CUT TO

Homer pours a bag of powder in the wine. The general drinks the wine with the strong mixture

of medicines.

EVERYBODY

Hurrah to the admiral!

ADMIRAL

…And then the fecund rivers of the dark women gave birth to heroes, who
237

multiplied themselves just as his children…

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT – NIGHT

HOMER

I’ve given him the whole solution. We’ll have the rest of the night to ourselves.

FIFI

When will the admiral end?

CUT TO

The cardinal and Aurita come back to the table rearranging their clothes. They ask for glasses

of wine.

ADMIRAL

…And then the flag of freedom displayed its colours…

AURITA

My husband must be finishing.

The seagull flies away without saying goodbye. He crashes against some of the mastiffs.

The general goes to sleep on the table after drinking his wine. He snores with the peculiar

sound of heroes.

CUT TO

ADMIRAL

…That is why we must shout once more: Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! I’ve

spoken.

They applaud while the admiral drinks his wine.

CARDINAL

We must go to sleep, my sons. I have to say mass early tomorrow.

ADMIRAL

Of course.

Homer calls the sailors.

238

HOMER

Take the general to his cabin and help him to get undressed.
239

Human Bombs

EXT. SHIP- NIGHT

A few sailors look into the night with binoculars as a middle aged man wearing a short shirt

stands with a glass in his hand.

He sips his drink while looking into the dark sea.

INTERMEDIARY

Are you sure this is the place?

FIRST SAILOR

The pilot swears it is.

INTERMEDIARY

It’s strange. These people usually arrive on time.

SECOND SAILOR

They must have been found.

INTERMEDIARY

Don’t be a pessimist.

SECOND SAILOR

Everything is possible, my captain.

INTERMEDIARY

I’ve told you not to call me captain. I’m only an intermediary, remember?

ALL THE SAILORS

Yes sir.

INTERMEDIARY

Are you all armed?

ALL THE SAILORS

Yes sir.

INTERMEDIARY

Have you checked the security installations?

240

ALL THE SAILORS

Yes sir.

INTERMEDIARY

Tell radar.

He moves across ship. Then he sits and drinks from his glass.

SOMEONE (VO)

A boat is coming.

The intermediary takes a microphone.

INTERMEDIARY

A boat is coming. Prepare the reception.

He lights up his pipe, while he waits. The sailors move around the top of the ship as a boat

approaches and they hear the voices of its occupants amidst the roar of the sea.

The intermediary walks across the ship to greet the newcomers.

CUT TO

EXT. SHIP- NIGHT

Young men and women jump into the ship, after the small boat docks. They stand in front of

the intermediary.

NEWCOMERS (All together)

National Liberation Army.

They disperse around the ship as a bearded man who seems to have more authority, stands by

the intermediary.

CUT TO

More people come to greet the intermediary as they arrive.

NEWCOMERS (All together)

National Liberation Army.

The bearded man takes off his hat. He spits out of his back teeth, while doing a military salute.

BEARDED MAN
241

X- Bombs automatic battalion is ready for its secret mission of economic

character.

INTERMEDIARY

Thank you.

BEARDED MAN

Attention!

The men assume a formal position.

BEARDED MAN

Rest.

They all relax.

INTERMEDIARY

You’re in the presence of someone who agrees with your ideas. Hurrah to

freedom.

EVERYBODY

Hurrah to freedom.

The intermediary hugs the bearded man. He offers him a cigar as the other people sit around.

INTERMEDIARY

You’ll receive the arms tomorrow night. It’s a good place. We have been there a

few times. We’re idealists.

BEARDED MAN

We have everything ready to receive the arms. The bosses authorise me to give

you 28,000 dollars.

INTERMEDIARY (Calling aloud)

Atenagoras! Atenagoras.

CUT TO

EXT. SHIP- EVENING

242

A little bald man with a wallet under his left arm takes off his glasses. He salutes the

intermediary.

ATENAGORAS

Do you want something Mr. Intermediary?

INTERMEDIARY

Show me the papers of the negotiations with these revolutionary men.

Atenagoras sits next to the intermediary and the bearded man. He looks through the papers in

his wallet, after putting his glasses on.

INTERMEDIARY

I want to offer you something to show my admiration and solidarity…

The bearded man stands up.

BEARDED MAN

We’re on a mission here. We don’t accept anything.

INTERMEDIARY

This is a disinterested help, Mr. Revolutionary.

BEARDED MAN

Mr. Intermediary, tell me how much we owe you. We are not beggars.

INTERMEDIARY

You must forgive me. I only have the best intentions in the world.

BEARDED MAN

Thank you.

Atenagoras takes off his glasses.

ATENAGORAS

Tonight you must give us the sum of 28,000…

He puts his glasses on again and looks at the paper, following the writing with his finger.

ATENAGORAS
243

…And 835 dollars.

BEARDED MAN

You’re mistaken. I only have to give 28,300 dollars.

INTERMEDIARY

Let’s not fight for such a stupid thing.

He looks at Atenagoras.

INTERMEDIARY

Write a receipt for whatever money he says.

The bearded man opens his shirt and takes out a roll of dollars.

BEARDED MAN

Thank you. Here is your money,

INTERMEDIARY

Count the money, my dear Atenagoras.

The bald employee stars to count the money.

INTERMEDIARY

Idealism is something really beautiful. Someone goes out at night, with so much

Money. He only thinks of his glorious work.

BEARDED MAN

We’re the revolution.

INTERMEDIARY

They’re also men.

BEARDED MAN

No one is a man here.

INTERMEDIARY

What do you mean?

BEARDED MAN

We’re bombs.
244

INTERMEDIARY

I understand less than before.

BEARDED MAN

It’s the last revolutionary tactic discovered by the heroes in Vietnam. Our

battalion is made up of walking bombs. They’re auto guided. We don’t need a

canon to shoot them. We explode in the most convenient place.

INTERMEDIARY

It’s a novelty. I had not thought of that idea.

BEARDED MAN

Our fight is confused with our life. We’re the soldiers of the revolution.

INTERMEDIARY

Sorry but I’m nervous. Can I drink an aguardiente?

BEARDED MAN

Of course you can.

INTERMEDIARY

You should do the same thing. It calms the nerves.

BEARDED MAN

Alcohol is only good for rich people.

INTERMEDIARY

I’m not as tough as you. I’m a progressive rich.

BEARDED MAN

We understand, Mr. Intermediary. You can drink as much as you want to. It’s not

your fault. You are controlled by your powerful masters.

INTERMEDIARY

My masters are in a ship now. I’d like to be in your place, but my spirit is weak. I

do what I can to help the cause of freedom.

245

As he claps his hands, a sailor appears. He mutters something to the man.

BEARDED MAN

The strategic plans of our leaders will liberate us from the oppressors.

INTERMEDIARY

Our ideals have triumphed over evil. We’re nothing over the shoulders of the

heroes. I had never imagined so much strength.

BEARDED MAN

Don’t forget that the fight is just starting.

Someone from the NLA scratches a leg.

INTERMEDIARY

My God! Be careful, young man. You can blow yourself up.

BEARDED MAN

Don’t worry Mr. Intermediary. Drink an aguardiente.

A sailor comes in with bottles, glasses and soda. He puts everything on the table. The

intermediary pours drink for himself and Atenagoras, who is counting his money. Then he

drinks it in a gulp.

INTERMEDIARY

I’m sorry, Mr. Revolutionary. I belong to the hated rich. We can’t cope with so

much idealism.

BEARDED MAN

Atenagoras is counting your idealism.

INTERMEDIARY

You must remember that we are just slaves. Others are the masters.

BEARDED MAN

It’s the exploitation of man by man.

Atenagoras stops counting dollars.

ATENAGORAS
246

You mean that man exploits himself.

BEARDED MAN

Isn’t it funny?

ATENAGORAS

I don’t believe in that.

INTERMEDIARY

You count your dollars.

BEARDED MAN

Don’t you want a demonstration?

INTERMEDIARY

No, I don’t.

BEARDED MAN

It sounds good to me. We could try our system in the sea.

INTERMEDIARY

Please, Mr. Revolutionary. We’ll all drown. I can’t swim. I’ll give you your

money back.

BEARDED MAN

Be calm, Mr. Intermediary. Nobody’s going to do anything. You sell us the arms

at a good price, and we wouldn’t think in wasting our ammunitions.

INTERMEDIARY

Well, Mr. Revolutionary. I always knew you were noble.

He drinks three aguardientes. Atenagoras stops counting the money.

ATENAGORAS

Everything seems to be OK.

He writes in a paper and signs it. The intermediary also signs it.

INTERMEDIARY

Here is your receipt and tomorrow you’ll have your arms in the place we agreed.
247

We always do what we promise.

BEARDED MAN

You must keep your word.

Atenagoras gestures to the NLA members.

ATENAGORAS

What happened to the test of the bombs?

BEARDED MAN

I’m thinking about it.

INTERMEDIARY

But Mr. Revolutionary, this is not a warship.

BEARDED MAN

I want to try something.

INTERMEDIARY

I beg you, sir.

BEARDED MAN

Nothing will happen to your ship.

ATENAGORAS

Let them test their weapons, Mr. Intermediary.

The bearded man mutters something,

BEARDED MAN

Nothing will happen to you. You’ll witness military manoeuvres.

INTERMEDIARY

Do you want to lose one bomb?

BEARDED MAN

You’re a rich terrorist like your boss in his ship. The real revolutionary must

live for the revolution and I want to show you a submarine fight.
248

He moves towards the human bombs.

BEARDED MAN

I’ll use a bomb with small charge to shoot a submarine. Number eight, what

charge do you have?

A man stands up.

NUMBER EIGHT

I have four kilograms, my lieutenant.

BEARDED MAN

And number six?

One of the men sitting at the table raises his hand.

NUMBER SIX

I’m three and a half with incorporated ammunition.

BEARDED MAN

I need a small bomb without ammunition. Stand up.

Number six stands up. He’s a skinny man, who looks like a child

NUMBER SIX

I’m three kilos without the ammunition, my lieutenant.

The bearded man looks at the intermediary.

BEARDED MAN

You must drive as fast as possible. Can you understand?

INTERMEDIARY

Why?

BEARDED MAN

The explosion might send us to the bottom of the sea.

INTERMEDIARY

What explosion?
249

The bearded man gestures towards the young man.

BEARDED MAN

That explosion.

INTERMEDIARY

I see a man.

BEARDED MAN

Stupid rich man, make this ship go fast or I’ll explode it in your face.

The intermediary says a few things to the sailors as the motor groans and the wind blows over

the bombs. The intermediary wipes his brow.

BEARDED MAN

What’s the speed?

INTERMEDIARY

Fifteen knots.

BEARDED MAN

Is that all?

ATENAGORAS

We’ll go at fifty kilometres per hour in ten minutes.

BEARDED MAN

Is this a joke?

INTERMEDIARY

We have to go into the open sea first.

BEARDED MAN

When will it be?

ATENAGORAS

It should be in half an hour.

The bearded man looks at the young man.

BEARDED MAN
250

You can rest for now.

The young man sits down.

BEARDED MAN

I need a life jacket.

ATENAGORAS

We have several kinds of life jackets.

BEARDED MAN

Can I see them?

The intermediary calls a sailor while sipping his drink.

INTERMEDIARY

Bring the life jackets.

ATENAGORAS

How will the manoeuvre be, my lieutenant?

BEARDED MAN

The bomb will float in the sea. It will explode when the ship gets near it.

ATENAGORAS

I thought you wanted to do manoeuvres under the sea.

BEARDED MAN

This is what it is.

ATENAGORAS

Submarines go under the sea.

BEARDED MAN

He’ll swim over the surface, anything wrong with it?

ATENAGORAS

Very well, lieutenant.

BEARDED MAN

You’re as drunk as mules. That’s why you don’t understand me. I’ll explain it
251

with a graphic.

CUT TO

EXT SHIP- NIGHT

The bearded man writes something on a notebook.

A few sailors arrive with the life jackets and wait for the bearded man to finish with his plans

while the intermediary and Atenagoras drink aguardiente. The din of the motors indicates

they’re moving fast.

ATENAGORAS

Excuse me lieutenant but the life jackets have arrived.

The bearded man examines one by one the different kinds of life jackets. Then he offers a life

jacket to the young man.

BEARDED MAN

Attention.

The young man stands up and puts the life jacket on.

BEARDED MAN

The life jacket is very good. Can I have the reference?

A sailor gives one to the bearded man, who writes something down in his notebook.

INTERMEDIARY

Why don’t we give the young man a glass of aguardiente? He might feel less

nervous.

BEARDED MAN

Do you think he’s a nun?

ATENAGORAS

The sea is cold at this time.

BEARDED MAN

He’ll get wet for about four minutes.

The bearded man gestures to the young man with the bomb.
252

BEARDED MAN

You go to the railings. You jump after I count up to three, and you must ignite

the bomb as I shoot with my signal gun. Do you understand?

NUMBER SIX

Yes, lieutenant.

BEARDED MAN

Can you repeat what I’ve just said?

NUMBER SIX

At the count of three, I go to the railings and then I jump into the sea. I wait for

your signal before igniting the bomb.

BEARDED MAN

Get ready.

Number six moves to the railings.

ATENAGORAS

Can you do the same thing without a bomb, lieutenant?

BEARDED MAN

How else could I do it?

ATENAGORAS

You can throw the life jacket into the sea.

EARDED MAN

If you keep on interfering, I’ll send you instead.

INTERMEDIARY

Excuse me, lieutenant but the life jacket cots money. I’m responsible for it.

BEARDED MAN

How much is it?

253

INTERMEDIARY

Two dollars.

The bearded man searches in his pockets. He throws two dollars on the table.

BEARDED MAN

Is the ship going fast?

SAILOR

Yes, lieutenant.

The bearded man gestures at bomb number six.

BEARDED MAN

Get ready.

Everyone is quiet as the motor groans.

The bearded man looks at his watch.

BEARDED MAN

One, two and three!

Number six jumps into the water. Four minutes pass as everyone looks at the sea. The bearded

man holds the signal gun.

CUT TO

EXT. SHIP- NIGHT

The bearded man shoots his gun to the sky and a red light fills the scene, as everything acquires

purple tones. They only hear the roaring motor.

BEARDED MAN

He must have gone to sleep!

ATENAGORAS

He must have drowned.

BEARDED MAN

Was the life jacket faulty?

INTERMEDIARY
254

I can assure you, it’s as good as new.

BEARDED MAN

Let’s find that bastard.

The intermediary gives orders to the sailors and the boat slows down.

BEARDED MAN

Let’s go back.

INTERMEDIARY

It could blow up near us.

BEARDED MAN

You’ll have to swim.

After the intermediary shouts instructions, the ship goes back. Everybody looks at the sea as

the intermediary and Atenagoras pour aguardiente in their glasses.

CUT TO

EXT. SHIP- NIGHT

They hear a voice through the microphone.

VOICE

We’re very close to the place.

As the ship stops everyone mutters and then something floats in the sea. The life jacket looks

orange in the light of a battery operated torch.

NUMBER SIX

I’m here, my lieutenant. The bomb didn’t explode.

A sailor brings a microphone to the bearded man.

BEARDED MAN

Number six, can you hear me?

NUMBER SIX

Yes, lieutenant.

BEARDED MAN
255

We’re going to destroy you.

NUMBER SIX

Yes, lieutenant.

.The bearded man shoots his gun several times.

BEARDED MAN

Can you hear me, number six?

NUMBER SIX

Yes, sir. I’ve been wounded in my legs and chest.

BEARDED MAN

We’ll use another method.

He looks at the people in the ship.

BEARDED MAN

We can’t leave him there, if the body is found by the reactionaries, we’ll be dead.

I need a low charge. Two kilograms should be enough.

SAILOR

We don’t have one.

A girl stands up and her companions take off ammunition from her brassiere. After counting

them, they keep a few and put the rest back in the bra.

SAILOR

She’s ready, my lieutenant.

BEARDED MAN

Now you must revise the equipment.

The men check the wires connected to the girl and she helps them with their job until she’s

naked. She has a young and attractive body.

The bearded man looks at the sea.

BEARDED MAN

Number six, can you hear me?

256

NUMBER SIX

Yes, lieutenant.

BEARDED MAN

How are you?

NUMBER SIX

I’m very bad, lieutenant. I’m hoping to blow up soon.

BEARDED MAN

Don’t worry. Number ten is coming to you in a few minutes.

NUMBER SIX

Thank you, lieutenant.

ATENAGORAS

Why don’t we pick up that young man?

BEARDED MAN

This isn’t your business.

ATENAGORAS

I’ll take him to a hospital.

BEARDED MAN

If you keep on interfering, you’ll end up in hospital.

INTERMEDIARY

Will anything happen to the ship?

BEARDED MAN

No.

INTERMEDIARY

I just wanted to know.

He goes back to the table with Atenagoras.

The bearded man gestures at the girl, who is dressed now.

BEARDED MAN
257

Attention.

She stands in front of him.

BEARDED MAN

You must swim to number six, hug him and ignite the bomb. First you must let us

go away from here. Do you understand?

NUMBER TWENTY

Yes, lieutenant.

The bearded man takes a few dollars out of his pocket and hands them over to the intermediary.

He receives the money as a sailor brings another life jacket. The girl puts the life jacket on and

moves towards the railings.

BEARDED MAN

Are you ready?

NUMBER TWENTY

Yes lieutenant.

BEARDED MAN

One, two and three.

The girl jumps into the sea as the motor groans. The ship goes faster while everybody waits.

An explosion goes on in the middle of the darkness, illuminating the ship with a pinkish light.

BEARDED MAN

Mr. Intermediary, let’s go back to base.

INTERMEDIARY

Yes, sir.
258

Chucho

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT

A sailor moves with a tray full of drinks, at first sight he looks strange, but then he seems even

stranger. He has long arms as hairs sprout from under his clothes and he walks with bow legs.

He has the face of an ape and wears a sailor’s hat as he moves across the ship and disappears in

the shadows.

The waves roar in the background as an old man wearing a suit with many decorations walks

across the scene.

`He has a big stomach, a wide forehead and wears a pair of glasses, and holds four books under

his right arm and three under the other one. He puts them on the floor before sitting on them.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT

Another old gentleman appears, wearing a suit full of decorations. He’s thin, bold and has a

suitcase. He looks at the man sitting on the books.

FAT PROFESSOR

Hi.

THIN PROFESSOR

Why are you sitting on the books?

FAT PROFESSOR

Who?

THIN PROFESSOR

You.

The fat man looks at his feet and nods.

FAT PROFESSOR

Thank you.

He sits on a chair and the thin man sits down on another one as a sailor appears.

THIN PROFESSOR
259

Can you bring me a table, please?

The sailor disappears through the door.

A middle-aged woman wearing a long dress and with a child in her arms appears. The child

wears a small suit with decorations.

WOMAN

Good evening, wise men.

The men stand up. They kiss her hand and smile at the child.

The hairy sailor puts a small table in front of the thin professor. Then he bows and leaves the

scene.

Homer wears a suit with decorations as he appears through the door. He coughs.

HOMER

I beg your pardon, wise men, for interrupting your thoughts.

They all stand up.

FAT PROFESSOR

I had never seen a ship as luxurious as this one in my life.

THIN PROFESSOR

This is a marvel, dear Homer. That’s the truth.

HOMER

Don’t exaggerate, please.

THIN PROFESSOR

Our words are mathematical formulae.

Homer caresses the child.

HOMER

How is the infant today?

WOMAN

He’s all right. The diarrhoea has stopped.

260

HOMER

It’s not easy to find three novel prize scientists in a ship like mine.

FAT PROFESSOR

We wanted a trip of pleasure and rest. We have found both of those things

Homer, but you wished to show us something else.

HOMER

I never promised to show you something marvellous. It’s just a bit different. I

didn’t imagine I’d have the famous professor Irwin in my ship.

EVERYBODY

It’s hard to believe it.

HOMER

Professor Irwin’s found the formula of eternal youth. He made a mistake and has

gone back to being a baby.

WOMAN

I have to feed him now.

She opens the front of her dress and breastfeeds the child.

HOMER

He has to grow up, before he tells us where he has left the formula.

FAT PROFESSOR

We couldn’t find the formula in Professor Irwin’s laboratory. I got drunk after

drinking the contents of a bottle with a yellow liquid.

Everybody laughs.

THIN PROFESSOR

Did he tell you about his experiments?

261

FAT PROFESSOR

We were in constant communication. He started his experiments four years ago.

HOMER

Tell us more about it, please.

FAT PROFESSOR

He had a theory to make humans and animals younger. He told me in his last letter

he had to sort out a few more details before his formula was ready.

After the woman puts the child against her shoulders, she knocks his back gently.

WOMAN

I never imagined I would be feeding a baby at my age.

HOMER

You’re lucky that it’s your husband.

WOMAN

He likes to eat a lot.

She puts the baby on her other breast.

WOMAN

He wanted to keep the result of his investigations a secret. People invent

medicines for getting younger every day but they never work.

THIN PROFESSOR

If they were any good, I should be in my mother’s womb by now.

FAT PROFESSOR

You’re an orphan.

THIN PROFESSOR

I wouldn’t mind any other womb then.

They laugh.
262

HOMER

We must drink something.

As he claps his hands, the hairy sailor appears.

THIN PROFESSOR

I want a Coca cola

FAT PROFESSOR

I want Coca cola.

WOMAN

I want Coca cola.

HOMER

Why don’t you drink a whisky?

FAT PROFESSOR

It’s bad for my liver.

THIN PROFESSOR

It kills my pancreas.

WOMAN

I can’t drink alcohol while feeding the baby.

HOMER

What about a soft wine?

THIN PROFESSOR

My transverse colon will burst.

FAT PROFESSOR

My kidneys will be affected.

WOMAN

I’ll burst if I don’t drink one.

The hairy sailor bows and disappears through the door.

HOMER
263

Tell us the story, my dear lady.

WOMAN

That night he put a bottle with a milky liquid on the bedside table. He had a bath

before going to bed and then he drank the liquid.

Darling, he said, have a good look at me. You’ll be the first person to see the

results of my investigations as I have just taken the formula of youth.

I heard a child crying in the early hours of the morning. I called Irwin but no one

answered.

As I switched the light on, I saw the child by my side. At first I thought it was a

Joke but then I awoke the maids and we all looked for my husband. The child was

Beautiful and my maternal instincts told me the truth. It was my Irwin. He had the

same birthmarks in the body I knew so well.

FAT PROFESSOR

What did you do with the bottle?

WOMAN

What bottle?

FAT PROFESSOR

I thought he left it on the bedside table.

WOMAN

I had to remember how to look after an infant and forgot about the bottle.

FAT PROFESSOR

You’ll be a millionaire if you find it. You’ve thrown away a fortune.

The hairy sailor comes in with everything they have ordered plus a bottle of whisky and soda

for Homer. He bows and leaves.

The child cries as the woman covers her breasts. The baby has done his business on her dress.
264

WOMAN

I’m sorry! He usually does these things after dinner.

She leaves a wet trail, as she moves away with the child in her arms.

HOMER

The professor worked for many years to get to his goal. He can’t even talk now.

FAT PROFESSOR

He’s breastfed during a discussion with his colleagues, and then he dirties his

nappy.

HOMER

I wonder where the bottle is. Professor Irwin must have drunk too much of the

potion. If he had tested the formula properly, he would have made a fortune.

THIN PROFESSOR

We’ll have to wait until the child talks.

FAT PROFESSOR

Will he remember anything?

HOMER

He’ll collect balls and buy chewing gum.

FAT PROFESSOR

He’s wasted his time.

HOMER

Think of all the money he could have made.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- EVENING

A sailor appears with a message in a tray. Homer gives instructions to the sailors, after reading

it.
265

HOMER

A helicopter will bring Professor Greer, his wife and Fifi.

THIN PROFESSOR

I like sexy Fifi. Is she bringing the general?

HOMER

He’s busy with a coup at the moment.

THIN PROFESSOR

That man only thinks in revolutions.

FAT PROFESSOR

That’s why Fifi visits Homer.

THIN PROFESSOR

Has Professor Greer married?

HOMER

He was single the last time I saw him. I hope he has married a beautiful girl as

scientists are boring.

FAT PROFESSOR

Marriage is not good for science. Women want to absorb everything.

THIN PROFESSOR

. You’re right. Science has been my only love up to now.

HOMER

I wish I felt like that. I’m a frustrated scientist.

THIN PROFESSOR

This has been a good meeting. I have to continue my observations of angels

by the sea side.

He takes an electronic microscope out of his bag. Then he finds a small box with beautiful

decorations.
266

THIN PROFESOR

Excuse me but I need to do a few things for my job. I have the needle touched

by baby Jesus’ nappies. You must kneel down on the floor and pray as my

studies of angels have brought me international recognition.

They all kneel as the professor holds the needle with a white cloth and places it under a

microscope. They all stand up.

CUT TO

EXT.LUXURIOUS YACHT- EVENING

FAT PROFESSOR

Do you know of my colleague’s work?

HOMER

I have heard about it. He can’t do anything else because of his job.

FAT PROFESSOR

This man is the greatest genius of all time.

HOMER

I’m sure of that.

FAT PROFESSOR

Businessmen must learn of our activities as they have a direct influence on your

lives.

HOMER

Yes, of course.

FAT PROFESSOR

This illustrious scientist has been interested in angels since his childhood. He has

looked for them everywhere. He liked to get dressed in a tunic and wings during

Christmas time and his pyjama reminds him of them. Have you seen him
267

sleeping?

HOMER

I haven’t had that honour.

FAT PROFESSOR

He wears a long blue gown, beautiful plastic wings with golden beads and a blond wig that

goes down to his hips. He keeps a golden harp on his bedside table.

HOMER

It’s very interesting. Do you want another coke?

FAT PROFESSOR

All right.

Homer claps his hands and a sailor appears. He tells him a few things and the man goes away.

FAT PROFESSOR

He has been interested in angels all his life, as I’ve told you. He graduated with

honours in the theology faculty of Rome and wrote his thesis in old Latin. No one

can read it, because it’s very old. He won the Novel Prize for this feat and it’s one

of a few books that have not been translated. What do you think about it?

The sailor arrives with the coca colas.

HOMER

What does the book say?

FAT PROFESSOR

It has 834 pages, written in verses of ten lines. Nobody knows what it says, until

someone translates it.

HOMER

It’s very interesting.

268

FAT PROFESSOR

He has won the first prize in the story of science because being a genius must be an

illness.

HOMER

That’s obvious to me. Drink your coca cola.

FAT PROFESSOR

He does the investigations of angels in the Vatican and earns 2,500 dollars a

month, plus eight hundred dollars for expenses.

HOMER

It’s not much for such an important job.

FAT PROFESSOR

They don’t pay good money to geniuses like us.

HOMER

We’ll have to change that.

FAT PROFESSOR

He wanted to find the sex of angels since his infancy. Are they men or

women? He’s had a program of investigation to weaken the toughest guys.

HOMER

He’s a hero.

FAT PROFESSOR

That’s nothing. His investigative technique puts him ahead of everyone. How can

he see an angel? He’s thought about the problem for twenty years and one day he

ran along the streets of Rome shouting: Eureka! Eureka!

269

HOMER

What does it mean?

FAT PROFESSOR

I don’t know. It’s another one of his fantastic words.

HOMER

What happened then?

The woman appears at this moment. She has changed her clothes and doesn’t have the child.

WOMAN

I’m sorry for interrupting the conversation.

HOMER

Where is the professor?

WOMAN

He’s asleep. He’ll wake up for his next feed in three hours. He’s so beautiful.

EVERYBODY

He’s beautiful.

She looks at the professor working with the microscope.

WOMAN

Our wise man doesn’t belong to this world anymore.

She sits down.

HOMER

Would you like some wine?

WOMAN

It has to be dry.

Homer gives orders to the hairy sailor.

FAT PROFESSOR

I told Homer of the extraordinary things the professor has done.

WOMAN
270

I think we know of this by now. He has broken all the records with his work.

The thin professor smiles, while looking at his microscope.

THIN PROFESSOR

Thanks.

HOMER

I’ve heard of the moment he ran along the street naked.

WOMAN

Didn’t you know that?

HOMER

I’m sorry, but my business…

WOMAN

It was first page news in all the papers of the world.

FAT PROFESSOR

It was on the same day as the L. Clay‘s fight for the heavy belt.

WOMAN

The professor nakedness had more headlines than the fight. Eight columns in the

first page.

FAT PROFESSOR

He was a member of the Pieni Order eight days later.

HOMER

I like that opera.

WOMAN

The Pieni Order is not an opera but a papal decoration.

HOMER

Sorry, I didn’t know.

WOMAN
271

The Beatles sing operas.

FAT PROFESSOR

Our friend the businessman doesn’t have time for these things.

HOMER

What happened after he went naked?

FAT PROFESSOR

He had found a way to look at the angels.

HOMER

Really?

FAT PROFESSOR

It shows us how the mind works. The professor had to see angels, so he went

to find them.

HOMER

Did he go to heaven?

FAT PROFESSOR

You have to be dead to go to heaven and our professor was alive.

HOMER

How did he do it then?

FAT PROFESSOR

A traumatic shock made him run naked through the streets of Rome in the middle of the day,

shouting eureka. He had remembered the nappy of Christ kept in the Corraplitences

Monastery.

HOMER

What a man!

FAT PROFESSOR

He took some faecal matter from the nappy, with a needle blessed by the pope. As
272

he put it under his microscope, he found them.

HOMER

Who did he find?

FAT PROFESSOR

He saw the angels, of course.

HOMER

It’s incredible.

WOMAN

Did you think he had worms?

FAT PROFESSOR

Let’s not have those crazy thoughts. He only saw angels in his microscopic field.

HOMER

What a genius!

FAT PROFESSOR

He wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to know the angels’ sex, and how many of them

could dance on the head of the needle.

WOMAN

It’s a fascinating topic.

FAT PROFESSOR

As he centred the microscope on the head of the needle, he saw the dancing

angels. They danced in pairs. He found male and female angels.

WOMAN

All the honours in the world are not enough for such a genius.

HOMER
273

Do you want another coca cola?

THIN PROFESSOR

I want a cold one.

FAT PROFESSOR

I also want one.

WOMAN

I want a triple wine.

Homer leaves the scene.

WOMAN

He’s an ignorant man with a heart of gold.

FAT PROFESSOR

He wants to found a centre for the support of science.

WOMAN

We’ve talked about that. I’d prefer if someone helps me financially to bring up

Irwin.

THIN PROFESSOR

I want to find a vaccine against sin under his protection as the present intravenous

one has a few side effects. It doesn’t vanquish the original sin.

FAT PROFESSOR

Under Homer’s protection I want to finish my Donald Duck encyclopaedia.

THIN PROFESSOR

That’s a literary work of the twentieth century. Nothing can compare with it.

FAT PROFESSOR

Thank you.

Homer comes in.

274

HOMER

I have just spoken with the helicopter Mr. wise men. Professor Greer and Fifi are

about to arrive.

A sailor calls Homer.

HOMER

Excuse me, but I have to get them now.

They’re all busy as Homer leaves. The thin professor is with the microscope, the fat professor

reads his Donald Duck collections, while the woman combs her hair. They hear the noise of a

helicopter.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT

Homer appears.

HOMER

Professor Greer came without his wife.

FAT PROFESSOR

They are on their honeymoon and perhaps he’s not jealous. Did he come alone?

HOMER

No, he brought a friend.

FAT PROFESSOR

Is it Fifi?

A forty year old man appears accompanied by a young man, wearing light blue jeans, long hair,

and a miniskirt over his trousers. Fifi comes behind them wearing a short dress with a low

cleavage. She kisses homer in the mouth.

PROFESSOR GREER

This must be a meeting of the seven wise men of Greece.

FAT PROFESSOR
275

And the eighth one has just arrived.

He looks at Fifi’s voluptuous body.

FAT PROFESSOR

You must be Fifi.

FIFI

I’m glad to meet you.

Fifi’s dress goes up as she hugs the little man while the thin professor looks through the

microscope.

THIN PROFESSOR

I think the greatest financier of all times has just arrived.

HOMER

My dear professor Greer, make yourself at home, or in your own ship.

They hug each other. Mrs. Irwin kisses Greer while the young man fiddles with his earring.

Then Fifi hugs Mrs. Irwin.

WOMAN

I’ve seen your picture in the papers.

THIN PROFESSOR

The papers only talk about her life and ignore everything else in the country.

FIFI

I’m not so important.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHR- NIGHT

PROFESSOR GREER

I married before coming to the ship and this is my wife Ferny. We’re on our

honeymoon.
276

Ferny shakes hands with everyone and sits next to Greer.

HOMER

I thought he was your friend.

PROFESSOR GREER

He’s my wife. Marriage between men is common now, as you know.

FAT PROFESSOR

It’s accepted in most countries of the world.

Professor Greer hugs Ferny.

PROFESSOR GREER

I adore you.

The couple kiss and hug each other as Fifi leads Homer away from the scene.

INT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

Fifi passes an arm around Homer’s shoulders.

FIFI

I have missed you.

HOMER

How’s the general?

Fifi licks his ear.

FIFI

He’s fighting his wars as usual.

She gives the bag to Homer. He is excited as he looks at the head.

HOMER

Who gave this to you?

FIFI

A man broke in the house this morning.

277

HOMER

Did he say anything?

FIFI

You must decipher the manuscript before something happens.

She kisses him.

HOMER

Did he give an address?

FIFI

No, he didn’t. Stop worrying about that head.

Fifi caresses his chest.

FIFI

My husband doesn’t love me.

As she fiddles with his trousers, someone knocks at the door.

CHUCHO (O.S)

The drinks are ready, Mr. Homer.

Fifi straightens her clothes as Chucho appears.

HOMER

Chucho, I didn’t ask you to come in.

CHUCHO

I did knock first, Mr. Homer.

Chucho admires the head on the table, feeling the sewn lips and the long hair.

HOMER

Chucho, have you ever been to the jungle?

CHUCHO

I lived in Leticia for a few months, Mr. Homer.

278

Homer finds the manuscript inside a wardrobe.

HOMER

I want you to look at these pages.

Chucho takes the manuscripts.

CHUCHO

I’ll do that later, Mr. Homer.

Chucho leaves with the head and the manuscripts.

INT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

Homer and Fifi lay next to each other on a bed by the window, where they see the blue see.

FIFI

He said that you killed his people.

HOMER

Who?

FIFI

The man who came this morning.

Homer sits on the bed.

HOMER

Why didn’t you tell me before?

FIFI

I thought you wouldn’t be interested.

INT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

Homer waits for Fifi to finish powdering her face. She looks at her reflection in a mirror while

brushing her hair.

HOMER

Let’s go now.

He leads Fifi out of the room.

CUT TO
279

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT

Ferny and Professor Greer are in each other’s arms.

WOMAN

Love is a wonderful thing. I was like that with Irwin.

FERNY

This is my first and last love.

He presses a tiny handkerchief against his heart and then straightens his miniskirt.

Greer kisses him.

HOMER

Let’s drink to this couple’s happiness.

Fifi plays with his hair.

FIFI

What about our happiness?

She rests her head on his chest.

HOMER

We’ll talk about that later.

THIN PROFESSOR

I’ve finished with my observations for today.

The thin professor picks up his equipment and puts it in his bag, bowing in front of the needle

before touching it.

INT. LUXUROUS YACHT- NIGHT

HOMER

We’re on our way to Gibraltar.

PROFESSOR GREER

Hurrah to our host.

280

EVERYBODY

Hurrah!

HOMER

Let’s see. The professors want coca cola and the lady wants dry wine but what

about you, Professor Greer?

PROFESSOR GREER

I want dry Jamaican rum.

HOMER

And what does Ferny want?

FERNY

I want sweet wine in rose water. Everything else gives me a headache.

PROFESSOR GREER

He’s as delicate as a flower.

HOMER

He looks like a plastic flower.

FERNY

I can’t drink anything strong. I have a weak stomach.

Homer turns to Fifi.

HOMER

Do you want gin and soda?

FIFI

Yes, and with a slice of lemon in it.

They all come to the table, except Ferny, who applies his make up. Homer serves the coca

colas while Professor Greer pours himself a large glass of rum. Fifi opens a bottle of gin.

THIN PROFESSOR

Professor Greer, don’t you feel sick with that strong drink?
281

FERNY

He’s a strong man. I adore him.

PROFESSORGREER

They’re bringing you a sweet wine, dissolved in water of yellow flowers.

FERNY

Thank you, my treasure.

HOMER

Professor Greer, we have here the best men of science and they’ll take charge of

my Philanthropic Foundation.

PROFESSOR GREER

Dear ladies and gentlemen, I’m an assessor of Homer’s financial business as he’s a

maestro of finances.

HOMER

Thank you. Professor Greer will explain the problem, so that you know what to

do.

Professor Greer drinks his rum.

PROFESSOR GREER

Homer is an economic giant. We have decided to start the Philanthropic Society

to help the greatest men of science. You’ll get one million dollars a year for your activities

but we want to donate that money to you instead of giving it to the tax.

A million dollars a year is a lot of money, and Homer wants a small favour. You’ll

Give us five millions in exchange for the million.

This is not a dirty business but a better way for you to use your capital. Homer

keeps his money while evading taxes, as he helps science.

282

THIN PROFESSOR

Five million dollars for only one million is a lot of money.

FAT PROFESSOR

I agree with you.

WOMAN

I also agree.

As Homer and Professor Greer talk in a low voice, Ferny looks at Fifi.

FERNY

Where did you buy your dress?

FIFI

I made it myself.

FERNY

It’s beautiful. I must learn to make my own clothes.

FIFI

I can teach you whenever you want.

FERNY

Thank you.

PROFESSOR GREER

Homer’s generosity doesn’t have a name. He only wants one million and two

hundred thousand dollars.

THIN PROFESSOR

We’ll give him fifty thousand dollars more.

HOMER

I accept it from such distinguished wise men.

They all applaud as Professor Greer takes a few documents out of his bag.

PROFESSOR GREER
283

You must sign these papers now.

They all sign the documents.

THIN PROFESSOR

I’ll call my vaccine Angelic Homer.

HOMER

Thank you.

FAT PROFESSOR

I’ll dedicate my book to you.

HOMER

Thank you.

WOMAN

Irwin will call you father.

FERNY

You’re a dangerous man.

FIFI

I’ll love you forever.

WOMAN

What is the surprise?

HOMER

I had forgotten about that. Excuse me for a moment.

He leaves the scene.

FERNY

What a wonderful man.

FIFI

He’s my hero.

WOMAN

He’s a real Mecenas.

284

FERNY

What’s that, my dear?

THIN PROFESSOR

He was a man who used to give things to people.

FERNY

How boring.

WOMAN

I thought he had been a Greek emperor.

FAT PROFESSOR.

Charlemagne was the Greek Emperor.

WOMAN

I was never good in geography.

FIFI

I hate maths.

FERNY

I’m also like that. I still don’t know what Christopher Columbus did.

THIN PROFESSOR

He discovered penicillin.

FAT PROFESSOR

Don’t confuse him with Gagarin. He discovered the moon.

FERNY

Was it the full moon?

THIN PROFESSOR

No, it was the honeymoon.

FERNY

I forbid you to talk about that.

FIFI
285

Professor Greer is Gagarin then.

Professor Greer looks drunk.

PROFESSOR GREER

Excuse me. I don’t like to gargle.

FIFI

It isn’t Gargarin but Gagarin.

PROFESSOR GREER

Is that a medication for the flu?

FERNY

No honey, he’s the discoverer of the moon.

Homer arrives with Chucho.

HOMER

I want to introduce Chucho to these prominent scientists.

The sailor bows.

HOMER

Chucho must be a surprise for my scientists. Greet my guests properly Chucho.

The sailor shakes hands with everyone.

CHUCHO

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It’s a pleasure for me to serve you.

They applaud.

HOMER

You can ask him questions.

THIN PROFESSOR

Can you tell us something about the first football championship?

CHUCHO

It was played in Montevideo, Paraguay from the 13 of June to the 31 of July 1930.
286

Argentina won over the United States in the semi final. It was 6- 1. Uruguay bit

Yugoslavia 6- 1. Uruguay bit Argentina in the final game, 6- 2.

EVERYBODY

Unbelievable!

FAT PROFESSOR

Who was the chess champion in 1926?

CHUCHO

Jose Raul Casablanca.

HOMER

Who won the boxing championship in the same year?

CHUCHO

Jack Dempsey.

EVERYBODY

AHHHHHHHH!

FERNY

Tell me who won the Derby at Epsom in 1956?

CHUCHO

Lavandin.

PROFESSOR GREER

What is the square and cubic root of 1.085?

CHUCHO

The square root is 32.94, and the cubic root is 10.28.

FERNY

What is the highest mountain in the world?

CHUCHO

Mount Everest. It is 8.848 meters high.

287

FERNEY

How tiring!

PROFESSOR GREER

You don’t have a sailor here, but a calculator.

FAT PROFESSOR

He’s marvellous.

THIN PROFESSOR

He should be in the Academy of Science.

HOMER

Thank you very much, Chucho. You can go now.

Chucho bows.

CHUCHO

Yes, Sir.

Chucho leaves the scene.

HOMER

What do you think about him?

EVERYBODY

He’s a genius.

THIN PROFESSOR

Where did you find such a brain?

FAT PROFESSOR

He should be the director of the Academy of science.

FERNY

He’s as intelligent as he’s ugly.

FIFI

He has sex appeal.

THIN PROFESSOR
288

He could be from anywhere in the world.

PROFESSOR GREER

I can’t believe he’s so intelligent.

FERNY

They say ugly men are very clever. It must have a limit.

THIN PROFESSOR

He has passed the limit in this case. That face has a price.

PROFESSOR GREER

It’s a contrast with Ferny’s beauty. It is beauty and the beast.

FAT PROPHESOR

He reminds me of a film.

FERNY

Don’t go on talking or I’ll faint.

A sailor comes in with a glass on a tray.

PROFESSOR GREER

Here is your drink.

FERNY

I want my water of yellow flowers.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- EVENING

HOMER

Do you think Chucho is super intelligent?

EVERYBODY

Yes.

HOMER

Chucho is a chimpanzee.

EVERYBODY
289

What?????

FAT PROFESSOR

A chimpanzee?

THIN PROFESSOR

A chimpanzee?

PROFESSOR GREER

A chimpanzee?

WOMAN

A chimpanzee?

FIFI

I believe you, my darling.

FERNEY

He’s a chimp. How boring!

HOMER

Here comes Chucho again.

The sailor appears wearing a swimming costume. He is a chimpanzee, who shaves his face in

the morning like anyone else. Ferny faints in Professor Greer’s arms.

FAT PROFESSOR

It must be the devil.

HOMER

You can go now, Chucho.

Chucho leaves the scene after vowing.

PROFESSOR GREER

Where did you find such a genius?

FIFI

He might be an Antioqueno in disguise.

290

HOMER.

He’s a chimpanzee and he’s at your disposition if you want to study him. He

works for nothing and likes to eat soap after blowing bubbles.

PROFESSOR GREER

It isn’t bad. He works for a box of soap a day. Have you offered him aguardiente?

HOMER

He doesn’t like the smell.

THIN PROFESSOR

Who is the author of such a phenomenon?

FAT PROFESSOR

It’s an attempt against human dignity.

HOMER

His owner is a Colombian man called Mario. He sold Chuchu for very little

money.

PROFESSOR GREER

How much was it?

HOMER

He only charged $85,000 dollars.

WOMAN

Is he healthy?

HOMER

He’s examined every year at Rochester.

THIN PROFESSOR

Does he bite?
291

HOMER

He’s harmless.

FIFI

Can he make love?

FAT PROFESSOR?

It’s too much money for a monkey.

HOMER

I can arrange exhibitions all over the world.

FAT PROFESSOR

Why don’t you do it?

HOMER

I promised Miguel I wouldn’t do that. Chucho’s very useful here.

PROFESSOR GREER

Homer knows about business.

FERNY

I want more sangria with water of rose petals.

292

Chucho’s story

Mr. Homer

I’m Miguel and I used to work for you a long time ago. If you have patience, I’ll tell you

how I met the wise man, who trained Chucho, but I won’t charge you a single dollar for the

service. Congratulations!

It isn’t strange that your wise men did not feel any admiration for Chucho. I believe wise

men are like the extinguished dinosaurs because they used to weight many tons but had small

brains. I belong to the crazy minority who doesn’t want to waste life. We believe the day has

twenty four hours and a million moments to enjoy it. You mustn’t cry for an inexistent future.

It has no dividends.

Once upon a time, after you had left us, I accepted Jaramillo’s offer of LSD. He had

brought it from Europe, where aristocrats use it to go to the stars. I can only remember the

colours with the transparency of a cloud and the softness of a young woman, while we travelled

through the solar system, but we didn’t go any further than Jupiter. I don’t want to give a

description of the universe the way we saw it, because it might not conform to Copernicus or

Galileo’s ideas. On waking up inside some bushes with spines rather than leaves, my body hurt

while a small airplane glistened in the sun.

“Where are we?” I asked.

Jaramillo threw earth on my face, a rude way to show we had landed. A cold wind made me

shiver as I was half naked, but we didn’t find anything useful inside the wreckage of the plane.

I knew how to survive in the jungle but we were in a mountain. I had not taken that course. As

we had to go somewhere, we followed a small river going through the roots of the trees in its

way to nowhere. It didn’t say much so I talked to my friend instead. We thought we had been

in the small plane, but none of us could fly these things. Apart from the small river, we didn’t

find anyone else.

After looking at the stars we found ourselves at twenty degrees longitude north and twenty

two west. It was day time and that fact made our observations a bit difficult. The small river
293

led us to a bigger one, and on following that one, we found a very big river. Two days later we

moved by the shores of a huge river. Jaramillo kept on talking about the manuscripts you had

found in an Indian town.

“They talk of the end of the world,” he said.

As we moved through the mountain, we didn’t need a bunch of Indians to tell us about our

end in the hands of nature. We were lost in the mountain and seldom saw any buildings with

the exception of a few Hilton Hotels. Then we arrived at a small town, inhabited by nice

people, but as we got nearer, we saw the town inhabited by rude people. With our beards and

some marihuana I had in my pockets, the campesinos (10) confused us with trouble makers.

Shooting their guns three times, they killed two chickens of a heart attack, and they cooked a

sancocho (11) with the animals, tasting of real sancocho. The town had been built around an

idiot called patepina as his right foot had elephantiasis and his left foot had mamutiasis.

We met the queen of potatoes on our first day. Then we met the one of the arepa (13)

without salt, and the one of arepa (13) with salt. The queens of sausages and beans, green

cheese, white cheese, cheese spread, free plantain, kumis, marmalade, yellow fever, rice and

mazato (12) also welcomed us, as the locals promised to introduce me to a few more beauty

queens.

“We have hundreds of them,” they said.

I nodded. “I believe you.”

“Don’t you have some spare clothes?” I asked the major as he crowned the flower queen.

He interrupted his speech to send us to the priest, who had to crown the queen of the jungle.

The priest sent us to the only shop in town, where someone crowned the yellow poncho queen.

“You come on time for the next beauty pageant,” he said.

We felt more comfortable with the clothes he gave us, even if they didn’t fit very well. We

then crowned the queen of the wide trousers and narrow shirts, who was elected from 250

competitors.
294

We got in contact with Miss Lola, a local teacher. She was queen only of the onion, the

black bean, the coffee, the curuba (14) and the peanut. The elderly teacher only wore three of

the crowns on her head, the base of her skull collapsing under the weight. Every seventh of

August she helped to recreate the battle of Boyaca (15) but sometimes the Spaniards won the

battle. As she showed us the school building, we saw the first stone placed there in 1922. The

children had their classes in the field, sitting on the grass next to the stone.

At first they told her she could have children of both sexes. After a detailed analysis, she

realised that the normal thing was to have boys and girls, and two years later they gave her

permission for the school. She has worked in the town ever since. The pride of the town, it

took them to the next town, where the train went past. On congratulating the driver, also the

helper at the church, he invited us to drink an aguardiente.

The healthy mountain air made us feel strong, and we drank more aguardiente. They looked

unhappy when we told them the president was the same one. Wearing a heavy poncho, his bald

head under a straw hat, the doctor had sandals on his feet like everyone else. As we drank

aguardiente, he invited us to sleep in his house by the park. Later that night and singing the

Marseilles, we went into the doctor’s house. It wasn’t very beautiful, but it looked like a palace

to us, after awakening next to first stone of the school that morning. I dreamt of Kalm leading

me to apocalypse and opened my eyes as something cold went over my nose. As I jumped, I

found myself in the middle of the park.

“Ha, ha, ha,” a voice said. “Margarita woke you up.”

I saw a big parrot laughing, while a snake slithered over my body. I moved to one side as

the parrot said:

“I wish she bites your bottom.”

I saw the snake disappearing amongst the bushes and felt sorry for myself. A bear went

running under my legs as I fell on a turtle, and then the parrot started to sing opera, while a

monkey offered a banana to me. I ate it next to a fat iguana hunting for flies. As I tried to think

how I had appeared in the zoo, I heard a scream. My friend jumped out of a window chased by
295

a tiger while the parrot laughed. A man wearing underpants appeared. He greeted us while

caressing the tiger and said he was sorry. He was the doctor and spoke to the animals as if they

understood Spanish. He told us later that he didn’t have visitors very often and Margarita

always slept in his room. She had done her usual thing when she had slithered over my nose.

Margarita was the snake. He didn’t explain why I had awoken in the back yard and I thought it

had been the Indian curse. I went to the toilet where I met a nice caiman, who served as a table.

Chucho brought me breakfast.

I’ll give you a few fragmented details of the story the doctor told us afterwards. I’m sorry if

I’m too long but I want to tell you as much as possible. The father of my friend had a son who

was a doctor, as a nice trick of nature. It had been one of those things. Nothing else like that

had happened in the family, apart from an uncle who had been the helper at court.

The man died before his son had his degree and started to study dead people. The doctor

didn’t eat much to pay for the university, but after graduating, he practiced in a hospital, where

he had dinner for the first time. The future was not very good as he had to find a job, that’s the

only way doctors can live up to the day they die. He had to live in the present now.

After he had his title with fat letters, he went to see the health minister. As the lift was out

of order, he had to climb nine floors to the office. The secretary had forgotten her keys

downstairs and our friend, always a gentleman, had to gone to get them. The girl was having

her lunch when he returned, but left a message for him to come back at three o’clock. He found

the office shut at that time. The education minister had died of a heart attack after going up five

floors, but two months later the lift had been repaired.

Everything seemed to be all right. They told him that the government office was the only

place needing a doctor. They had too many doctors at the government building but the minister

of war might need a doctor. The minister of war was in conflict with the marines and they sent

him towards nowhere.

Someone told him to go to the trains. They put him in contact with an architect Perez, living

in Barranquilla and the president of the society for the protection of yellow beetles. He
296

remembered this last thing because he found the man on the beach, crying next to the body of a

dead beetle. After they buried the beetle, the architect informed him that they had doctors

everywhere, except in a town in the central cordillera. A few days later the doctor arrived at the

central station, carrying a suitcase with a blood pressure monitor, a stethoscope and a small

syringe. He also had his degree document.

“Can I have a ticket for X station?” he said to the girl in the ticket window.

The ticket seller looked at him up and down. Then he did the same but down and up.

“You have to be serious man,” he said while cleaning his nails.

The doctor shrugged. “But I need a ticket for X.”

“Are you serious?” the ticket seller asked.

“Yes, I’m.”

The ticket seller went inside the office and came back a few moments later accompanied by

two fat men and a skinny one. Two women came behind them. The ticket seller gestured at the

doctor.

“There he is,” he said.

One of the fat men removed his glasses before confronting the young man.

“Do you know what the punishment for jokers is?” he asked.

“You must be ashamed of yourself,” a woman said.

The other fat man frowned: “What a terrible thing.”

“I don’t understand,” the doctor said.

Three minutes later they started to punch each other, but two cars full of firemen and police

vans stopped everything. The doctor remained on his seat without understanding what had

happened. He came back next morning and asked a young girl at the office for a ticket to go to

the town. She looked at him with her beautiful innocent eyes and asked: “Where is that?”

“I think you should know,” the doctor replied.

“I’m new here,” she said.

“Go and ask someone,” he said.

297

After the young lady had gone inside the office, an employee in uniform appeared a few

moments later.

“You must come with me,” he said.

They went past several offices until they entered a big room where a few men sat around a

big table. They asked him to sit down and the one with more authority said:

“Tell me young man, why do you want to go to that town?”

“They don’t have any doctors in the next town,” the doctor replied.

“Why do you hate doctors?”

“No, sir,” he said. “I’m a doctor.”

“You want to live in town X.”

The doctor shook his head. “I’ll live in the next town.”

“Look, young man. I’ve been working in the trains for 34 years and this is the first time

someone goes to town X. Don’t you feel ashamed? That town only has 17 people, why are you

going there?”

“I want to go to the next town,” the doctor said.

The fat man talked to his colleagues.

“You can see the problems our country has. This young man has the most unusual ideas.

Can we give him a job at our offices?”

“What can you do?” he asked the doctor.

“I’m a doctor,” our man replied.

“I want to know if you can do a real job.”

The doctor shrugged. “I know a bit of medicine.”

“I know,” the fat man said. “You can work as a messenger here. Do you accept it?”

“Yes…” the doctor said.

“Do you have a bicycle?” the first speaker asked.

“I can’t ride a bicycle.”

The fat man grinned. “He can’t do anything.”

298

“Then I go to the town” the doctor said. “Sell me the ticket.”

“We’re giving you a free ticket to the town plus a hand grenade. As the driver says you’re

getting near town X, you must explode it. Otherwise the train won’t stop and you’ll never get

there. They gave him the ticket and the grenade. He felt nervous as he waited for the train.

He boarded one of the middle carriages in between country women travelling with their

chickens. The bomb exploded and derailed the train, killing three chickens and a few

neurosurgeons, who worked as rail keepers. As our doctor arrived at the town, he met with the

priest, the owner of the pharmacy, and Miss Lola, who knew all about injections.

Mr. Procolo, the richest man in town took him to his own home. It was urgent business and

the other people had other things to do, so he asked the new arrival for help. A pregnant sow

would have died if the doctor had not helped with the delivery. The news spread across the

town and he became the best doctor of pigs in the region. Mr. Procolo consented for his

daughter to live with him, where they lived with all kinds of animals. His wife was one of them

as she wasn’t very intelligent.

The doctor inherited the pigs, the house and his wife when the old man died. He made a

difficult discovery for the human mind to comprehend, while doing his anti Edison

investigations. Even if you don’t believe it, Mr. Homer, it was enough for our hero to get

condemned to the electric chair, the chamber of gases or to go around Marquetalia.

I will describe everything for you. Our towns don’t have schools, hospitals, health centres,

toilets or clean water. The only water running through them is smelly and dirty but they have

millions of transistors infecting the streets with rancheras twenty five hours a day. The priest

puts four giant speakers on the church tower. If the ones in the café in the corner, or in the café

with no corner are not working, his highness switches his music on. The smallest and sickest

town in Colombia makes more noise than a dormitory of Maristas brothers after their Christmas

supper.

Our country has thousands of radio stations for square mile and each one of them has two

programs: popular music and commercials. We have to hear five hundred radio stations of
299

popular music and five hundred of commercials, even though some of us do not have a radio. I

had to show you the environment he had been submerged, in order to understand the greatness

of his discovery. The doctor brought me a small machine made by him.

“Switch it on,” he said.

I wanted to crash it against his glasses, but the tiger licking my feet stopped me. As I

switched it on, I experienced a wonderful sensation. The voice of the priest offering the next

tango to the president of the daughters of Maria was erased and everything was enveloped in

the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. The anti Edison had invented the anti transistor.

This small machine stopped one from hearing everyone else’s transistors but I can’t describe

the sensation of hearing absolutely nothing. I found myself before the greatest man in science,

as far as I understood and asked permission to the tiger to lick his other shoe. It didn’t stop

there. Just as he had found a way to prevent radio waves, he had managed to tame all kinds of

animals. Our scientist decided we were animals as he didn’t believe in Gods, souls or angels.

Men were made of matter. He did experiments with animals teaching them conditional

reflexes. They had to open traps after acoustic or luminous signals, where they found, food,

water or electric shocks. The animals learned to find their food avoiding the electric shocks

after a few sessions.

He sacrificed one of the animals and extracted an acid with a complicated name, but known

by its initials: DNA. He introduced it in the nervous system of other mice, which did not know

anything about the lights and electric shocks and had good results. The mice behaved as if they

had been trained before. They had the memory of the other animals or in mystic terms they had

metempsychosis. I can’t explain the proceeding properly and I think you and your wise men

will have a worse problem. My friend contacted the Academy of medicine but they smiled on

discovering he treated pigs. They didn’t like human knowledge transmitted into animals and

drove away in their Mercedes Benz. They wanted to take him to the saint inquisition and it’s a

fire waiting for us in hell in our country.

300

According to this noble mad man, the process of knowledge is linked to a big, curved

molecule. It is called DNA and RNA. You’ve found the code of life, when you can decipher

its language. I don’t know how he does it. He bought Chucho, the chimpanzee from

Antioqueno businessmen, who had won him, during a game of cards with the guards of the

Bucharest zoo. You have had him for nearly one year, without understanding how important he

is.

Chucho’s not just the best monkey in the world, but he’s also the best man. He’s intelligent,

disinterested, noble and a very good worker. He’s not dangerous to anyone and I’m sure he

represents a step in our mental evolution. Our doctor did that with Chucho because he has a

good capacity in his brain. He’s also done marvellous things with the other animals. The tiger

is more intelligent and noble than any dog. He understands clearly many verbal orders. The

parrot sings the opera Traviata by memory and has a better voice than any soprano from the

Scala. The venomous snake drinks milk and eats mice. The monkeys sweep the house, wash

the clothes and do some other chores as the turtles reproduce only when they’re asked to do it.

The iguanas have been domesticated and they’re fed by hand.

He has a troop of multicoloured mice that dance Stravinsky’s ballet with Russian perfection.

Margarita the snake is harmless, but I can’t say the same thing of the debt collectors. The poor

man had four debt collectors bothering him. They had left him alone because of the difficulty

of getting to the town, but things have changed now. I’m not a philanthropist but I gave him a

few pesos and promised to sell Chucho to stop the danger. As you gave him a few dollars, the

doctor’s situation improved for some time.

You can understand the failure awaiting the investigator. To finish with the transistors is an

attack against humanity, but to end with knowledge by injecting yourself or by manipulating

radiant energy is the final collapse of humanity. My wise friend sends you his regards but he

doesn’t understand much about business. He knows what would happen to his discoveries in

the hands of a businessman like you, that’s why I can’t tell you anymore. Look after Chucho.

Sincerely yours. Miguel

301

Twentieth century symphony

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- MORNING

A middle aged man with Prussian hair style pedals an exercise bike. He sweats as he checks

the speed and the distance he has achieved and pedals again with more enthusiasm.

He stops. He goes down on the floor and stands on his head for a few moments. He stands up

and lifts weights over his head while breathing deeply and a Chinese bell hanging nearby adds

music to the scene.

After he rests standing on his head and then he does exercises on the portable bars and a

trapeze. Chucho appears as the gymnast is in the bars.

CHUCHO

You must have an appetite, Mr. Astronaut. Do you want any breakfast?

ASTRONAUT

What time is it?

Chucho looks at the clock.

CHUCHO

It is twenty minutes past ten.

ASTRONAUT

Not that one. Look at the chronometer and tell me the whole thing.

Chucho looks at a small electronic chronometer on a table.

CHUCHO

It’s ten, twenty two minutes, four seconds and two decimals.

ASTRONAUT

Bring breakfast at ten thirty flat.

CHUCHO

What do you want, sir?

ASTRONAUT

The menu is on the table.

302

Chucho picks up a paper from the table. He reads it and leaves the scene.

The astronaut goes on the bars and the trapeze with all the strength of an anthropoid as Chucho

arrives with two litres of oil, two pounds of grease on a plate, petrol in a bottle and two one

inch screws. After putting everything on a small table, he looks at the chronometer.

CHUCHO

Ten thirty flat.

The astronaut jumps down from the trapeze. He cleans his face and hands. He breathes deeply

for ten times and goes to the breakfast table.

He tastes the grease from the motor with a spoon. He mixes it with a bit of petrol. Chucho

waits nearby for further orders.

ASTRONAUT

The grease is fresh. I would have liked it a bit thicker.

CHUCHO

That’s the one we use for our diesel motor. You should have told us of your

favourite mark.

ASTRONAUT

Don’t worry about that. I’m used to everything.

A calculator moving on four wheels and reading a paper appears through the door. He smiles

as he sees the astronaut.

CALCULATOR

Hello Sompson.

ASTRONAUT

You’re always joking. My name is Simpson.

CALCULATOR

I’m learning Spanish. I like the word sonso.

ASTRONAUT
303

I don’t like dialects.

CALCULATOR

Don’t be upset or you’ll get indigestion. You have an appetite.

The astronaut drinks the oil.

ASTRONAUT

I like this oil.

CALCULATOR

I love the sea. I’d like to be an automatic commander of a submarine.

ASTRONAUT

You’d be rusty

CALCULATOR

I’d like to be rusty.

ASTRONAUT

Uhmmmm!

He sips the oil.

The calculator gestures to Chucho.

CALCULATOR

Boy, I’m dying of hunger.

CHUCHO

How can I help you?

CALCULATOR

I want a beefsteak, toasts with butter and marmalade. Coffee with milk and cereal

as a starter.

ASTRONAUT

You must be careful. You’ll get an electric stroke in the system ZX34.

CALCULATOR

I have a health of iron, cement and transistors.

304

The astronaut looks at the chronometer.

ASTRONAUT

I still have twelve minutes, thirty seconds and two decimals.

CALCULATOR

Somebody has to look at your screws. You’re drinking thick oil.

ASTRONAUT

It’s not important. It’s all due to atmospheric pressure.

CALCULATOR

I think you should rest. This marine environment is beautiful.

ASTRONAUT

I’m resting. I’ll work twenty two hours and ten decimals of a second today.

CALCULATOR

Something might happen to your brain.

ASTRONAUT

The brain is not important.

CALCULATOR

The brain has some importance, as the head is an elegant ending to the symmetry

of the body. Women use it for hair styles, hats, wigs and headaches. A woman

without headaches is not a woman.

ASTRONAUT

I have to test the manoeuvre L-09…

CALCULATOR (interrupting)

I’m preparing myself for a nice dwarf transformer I met last night.

ASTRONAUT

Love is degrading. Men have more important functions to accomplish.

305

CALCULATOR

It’s bad to be a man. I’ve had nothing to do with it. I can assure you.

Chucho comes in with the breakfast for the calculator on a tray. The sound of a clarinet

interrupts the scene.

The calculator looks at Chucho.

CALCULATOR

What’s that?

CHUCHO

It’s the peon of the matador. He wakes his master with the clarinet.

CALCULATOR

What matador?

CHUCHO

He boarded the ship last night. He’s called Cagangosto and he’s Homer’s guest.

CALCULATOR

What does he kill?

CHUCHO

He kills bulls. He’s Spanish.

CALCULATOR

Do they wake up with clarinets?

CHUCHO

I think so, sir.

CALCULATOR

Why doesn’t he use an alarm clock?

At that moment, the president of the republic of Salvacion appears. He’s a middle-aged man

with mongoloid eyes, a mongoloid smile and a moustache.

He waves his hands.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
306

Good morning everybody.

The calculator and the astronaut stand up.

ASTRONAUT AND CALCULATOR

Good morning.

The president wears a sport shirt and white trousers. He wipes his moustache with the back of

his hand.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Homer is a genius. This is a beautiful yacht.

CALCULATOR

Have you tasted the food?

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

I had a bit of caviar last night.

The astronaut looks at the chronometer.

ASTRONAUT

Excuse me.

He leaves the room.

The president of Salvacion sits at the table as the calculator finishes with the food. He wipes

his face with a screw driver.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

We, the men of state, should come more often to Homer’s yacht. We rest from

government pressure and make good friends at the same time.

CALCULATOR

It’s what we call good business.

The president of Salvacion looks at Chucho.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Would you bring me something to drink?

CALCULATOR
307

What about dry wine?

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

It’s a good idea.

Chucho leaves the scene.

PRESIDENT OFD SALVACION

Is the great Mele a guest of Homer?

CALCULATOR

I don’t know anything. I arrived here last night.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

I also arrived last night. I’m here as incognito, as I love humility.

The conversation is interrupted by the arrival of a man with a red cape. He’s chased by another

one, who has a tripod with the head of a bull. The one with the cape waves it. The bull head

attacks him, and he runs away.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Isn’t that the great matador Cagangosto? It’s incredible.

CALCULATOR

They’ve told me everything about him. He should operate his haemorrhoids as a

Houston technician has the same problem.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

He’s the greatest matador of all times. He’s a monster. He’s superb, splendid,

immortal, wonderful, sublime.

Chucho arrives with the bottle of wine. The calculator pours wine in a glass.

CALCULATOR

Mr. President, here is the wine.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

You must say Your Excellency.

308

CALCULATOR

I’m sorry, Excellency.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

It’s Your Excellency.

CALCULATOR

Excuse me Your Excellency. The wine is here.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

If I had known Cagangosto was here, I’d have brought my wife.

CALCULATOR

Drink the wine, Your Excellency.

As the president brings the glass to his mouth, a ball crashes against him and the false teeth of

his Excellency fly in the air.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

What the…

Before he finishes his sentence, the ball crashes on his head again and his glasses fall on the

floor.

A small man wearing an expensive gown and with a crown on his head runs across the scene.

MELE

Hiya!

The president of Salvacion crawls on the floor, trying to find his glasses. Chucho finds them in

a corner and gives them to him. The president wipes the glasses with his handkerchief.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Who has done this to me?

He finds a machine gun under his shirt, with Dun- Dun bullets. As Mele throws the ball, it

lands in the mouth of an ornamental shark.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
309

But…it’s the…the king.

He looks at the man with the ball, who gets ready to kick it again.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

It must be his majesty, King Mele, in person.

He puts his machine gun away and kneels on the floor.

MELE

Hiya!

Mele runs away while kicking the ball.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

We have two famous people here. I can’t believe it.

His voice sounds strange as he doesn’t have his false teeth.

Chucho appears with some more bottles and glasses. Then Homer enters the scene. He’s

accompanied by a beautiful woman.

HOMER

Good morning Your Excellency, good morning calculator. How did you sleep?

Everyone stands up.

HOMER

This is Madam Bulla. She’s the best soprano in the world.

Madam shakes a Venetian fan.

MADAM

Your Excellency, and how’s Mr. Calculator?

The president of Salvacion covers his mouth with a silk handkerchief.

PRESIDENTE OF SALVACION

I have some of your records. It’s an honour to have met you.

MADAM

You’re so kind.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
310

Excuse me. I’ll come back in a moment.

He leaves the scene.

CALCULATOR

He lost his false teeth.

MADAM

It’s funny.

As she sits down, a head with horns crashes against her, and she falls down on the floor.

The calculator and Chucho help her to her feet.

CALCULATOR

Cagangosto has knocked you down.

Chucho picks up Madame’s wig from a bust of Julius Cesar.

MADAM

What an honour. He’s supposed to be the best bullfighter in the world.

The astronaut moves across the scene. He wears space headgear while driving a blackboard.

MADAM

Who is he?

HOMER

He’s Simpson, the first American astronaut to set foot on Mars.

MADAME

He must be very old. I’ve seen many people on the camp of Marte.

HOMER

I’m talking of a star in the sky called Mars.

The president of Salvacion appears. He wears another set of false teeth.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

The man who was eating here seems to be mad.

He makes circles on his head.

HOMER
311

He’s the most important American astronaut. He’s Simpson. The first man to step

on Mars.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

I remember now. It was that football game where they fought for the tenth star.

MADAM

I’m sorry Your Excellency, but Homer talks about those little stars in the night

sky.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

I understand now. I’m always so busy. Homer’s guests are famous all over the

world.

HOMER

I would say the universe.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

We’ve all been through university.

Mele runs in, breathing fast. They all stand up.

MELE

Hiya!

HOMER

Your majesty must rest for a few minutes as you shouldn’t put your heart in so

much strain. The twentieth century will remember you for your thousand goals.

Mele wipes his mouth with the cape.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

I keep four centimetres of the ball that scored the famous thousandth goal, in a

golden box.

MADAM

I have a thread of his socks after I sang ten concerts for the benefit of the flu
312

victims. I keep it inside lunar platinum.

MELE

Hiya!

Cagangosto comes in with the bull in pursuit. As Mele kicks the desiccated head of the bull, it

rolls down the floor.

CAGANGOSTO

What’s the matter with you, man?

MELE

Hiya!

CAGANGOSTO

You’ve just broken my training bull.

MELE

Hiya!

CAGANGOSTO

You have to mend it or I….

Homer, Madam and the president, followed by Chucho and the calculator try to stop the

argument. A kick from Mele sends Cagangosto overboard as confusion reigns in the ship.

Homer shouts through the microphone.

HOMER

Man overboard! Switch off the engine!

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

What an honour! To have a kick from such a man is like winning the Nobel Prize

of football.

MADAM

It’s as if the Beatles sang one of their songs for me.

CALCULATOR
313

Your majesty has scored one thousand and one goals now.

MELE

Hiya!

As the sailors lower a boat down to the sea, the astronaut appears with a square wheel. He’s

counting: 25…24…23…22…21…

FIRST SAILOR

I see a shoe.

SECOND SAILOR

I see the suit of lights and the red cape.

MELE

Hiya!

HOMER

Can we throw a cable?

FIRST SAILOR

He’s too far.

Madam takes her clothes off.

MADAM

I offer my life for his.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Madam, your life is precious.

CALCULATOR

Why don’t you tie the cable to the ball for his majesty to kick it?

MELE

Hiya!

HOMER

It’s a good idea.

314

A few sailors fasten the rope to Mele’s ball.

HOMER

Hurry up!

FIRST SAILOR

How can his majesty know where the matador is?

CALCULATOR

We’ll tell him that it’s goal 2002.

MELE

Hiya!

Homer ties the ball to the rope and calls Mele, who is eating a banana.

Homer bows.

HOMER

Your majesty

Mele puts the banana peeling on his shiny bold head.

MELE

Hiya!

Homer gives the peeling to a sailor.

HOMER

Do you want to score goal 2002 your majesty?

MELE

Hiya!

As king Mele kicks the ball, it goes faster than sound. The wig of the president also flies up in

the air.

FIRST SAILOR

It’s perfect.

MADAM
315

He’s a genius!

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Where is my wig?

MELE

Hiya!

FIRST SAILOR

He’s holding the cable.

Madam wears only her pants and bra by now.

MADAM

Thank God!

HOMER

You must pull at the same time now.

FIRST SAILOR

Bring the boat.

SECOND SAILOR

We must get the oxygen ready.

FIRST SAILOR

Bring him onboard now.

They all hear a shout of horror. Madam runs to the bars without her bra.

MADAM

He doesn’t have a head.

She faints.

HOMER

A shark has eaten his head.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

The greatest bullfighter of all times has died.

He cries.
316

CALCULATOR

It isn’t so bad. He’ll perform better without a head.

HOMER

He’s breathing!

The men leave the scene. Madam remains in a comatose state and takes off her pants. As the

calculator drinks wine and everyone is in silence.

A few sailors bring the headless body of Cagangosto on a stretcher. Homer comes behind them

accompanied by the President of Salvacion.

HOMER

He needs oxygen.

Blood pours out of the neck

FIRST SAILOR

We must stop the bleeding!

SECOND SAILOR

We need Cobwebs.

A sailor puts a lot of cobwebs over the bleeding neck.

PRESIDENT OD SALVACION

We must place a plantain leaf above it.

MADAM

What will happen to the world without Cagangosto?

She cries.

MADAM

The sun has died.

HOMER

Madam, he’s still alive.

Madam stands up.

MADAM
317

He doesn’t have a head.

CALCULATOR

He could have lost his right arm. That would have been more terrible.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

He needs to hold his cape.

Mele appears kicking the ball.

MELE

Hiya!

The astronaut walks on his hands across the scene and with a multicolour parachute tied to his

right foot.

HOMER

He’s still bleeding. What do we do?”

CALCULATOR

Let’s put the head of the bull on his neck.

MADAM

The calculator is clever.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

It’s a good idea.

Chucho gives Homer the head of the bull.

HOMER

Let’s try it.

He places the head of the bull on the bleeding neck.

CALCULATOR

It needs a few stitches.

Madam leaves the scene.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

He’s not bleeding anymore.

318

HOMER

It’s a miracle.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- MORNING

Madam kneels by the body of Cagangosto, holding a golden coffer.

HOMER

You must be careful

MADAM

I’ll sew my best stitches.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Use different colours.

CALCULATOR

He’ll be better than before.

Madam sews the head, while the sailors put away all the things they’ve used to save the man’s

life.

EXT. BOTTOM OF THE SEA- MORNING

Meanwhile in the bottom of the sea:

FIRST SHARK

I’m not feeling well. I must have appendicitis.

SECOND SHARK

Did you eat something heavy?

FIRST SHARK

I devoured the head of a bullfighter.

SECOND SHARK

The feet are the best things bullfighters have.

FIRST SHARK

I didn’t know that.

319

SECOND SHARK

You’ll learn the secrets of the job one day.

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- MORNING

Madam has finished sewing the head. They all applaud.

The head of the bull moves as its eyes open.

CAGANGOSTO

Where am I?

HOMER

Don’t worry, matador. You’re with me.

CAGANGOSTO

Who is me?

HOMER

I’m me.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Can’t you see?

Cagangosto looks at the president.

CAGANGOSTA

Who is him?

HOMER.

Your Excellency must remember the president of Salvacion.

As Homer helps Cagangosto to stand up, he feels his right horn.

CAGANGOSTO

I’m thirsty.

CALCULATOR

Drink some wine.

The calculator gives him the bottle and Cagangosto drinks everything.

MADAM
320

He’s beautiful. He looks like a Miura.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

I’ll find my other wig.

He leaves the scene.

CALCULATOR

. I think the matador is better off now. Some bulls are very intelligent.

CAGANGOSTO

Bulls are the most intelligent animals in the world.

CALCULATOR

You can’t include calculators, of course.

CAGANGOSTO

I’m talking about animals.

HOMER

I feel thirsty after the incident. Do you want another bottle of wine, matador?

CAGANGOSTO

Yes, man.

A sailor says something to Homer.

HOMER

I have good news for you. A helicopter with the Beatles on board is about to land

on the ship.

CAGANGOSTO

The Beatles?

Madam is still naked.

MADAM

The Beatles??????

The president of Salvacion comes in, wearing a new wig.

321

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Have I heard right?

HOMER

Your Excellency, the Beatles will arrive in a few minutes.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Are they the heroes of the British Empire???

MADAME

Yes, I’m very excited.

Homer shouts.

Mele runs across the scene, kicking his ball.

HOMER

Your majesty.

MELE

Hiya!

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Your majesty, the Beatles are coming.

HOMER

They are the most resplendent jewel in the British crown.

CAGANGOSTO

They are members of the order Garreteer.

MELE

Hiya!

He runs after the ball.

MADAM

His majesty is a genius.

HOMER

He’s superman.
322

CAGANGOSTO

The wine is very good.

CALCULATOR

Let’s drink to your health, matador.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

We represent the best of humankind.

MADAM

God has gathered the best people on this ship.

The astronaut moves across the scene pulling a tower with luminous lights as a siren goes on.

He stops and walks backwards.

CALCULATOR

Can I have some more prawns?

As Homer leaves the scene, the noise of the approaching helicopter fills everything.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

They have arrived.

MADAM

I’m going to faint.

CAGANGOSTO

You can faint here.

He opens his arms.

MADAM

AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She falls in the arms of Cagangosto.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

What a sensible woman.

CAGANGOSTO

She’s very nice.

323

As he licks her body, she faints even more.

CALCULATOR

Where’s the urinal?

SAILOR

It’s over there.

He gestures with his hand.

The calculator goes away with the sailor.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

I don’t like that machine.

CAGANGOSTO

It looks like a domesticated space ship.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

He must be indifferent to human glory.

CAGANGOSTO

I don’t think he understands much about bulls.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

He doesn’t like art.

CAGANGOSTO

That astronaut is more stupid. He plays a science fiction game all the time.

Homer appears. He’s followed by a few people with long hair and wearing similar clothes as

some of them have electric guitars. The president of Salvacion rises to his feet.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

The Beatles!

Madam stands up.

MADAM

The Beatles.

Cagangosto doesn’t stand up.

324

CAGANGOSTO

The boys have arrived.

HOMER

Ladies and gentleman, these are the Beatles and their girlfriends.

They don’t say hello to anyone and sit in a circle on the floor.

The astronaut crawls across the scene while singing.

ASTRONAUT

My old Kentucky home…

The first Beatle looks at him.

FIRST BEATLE

We want to have the same stuff he has had.

HOMER

He’s the astronaut Simpson. He’s the conqueror of the Martian mountains.

SECOND BEATLE

We are not interested in the girls Mr. Simpson has conquered. We want the same

marihuana he’s had.

FIRST GIRL

I want some mescaline.

SECOND GIRL

I want LSD.

THIRD BEATLE

Bring everything you have.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

They’re geniuses.

Homer leaves the scene with one of the sailors as the calculator comes back.

CALCULATOR

I think everything here is rubbish.

325

CAGANGOSTO

I remember an afternoon in Seville with bulls of Domec…

MADAM

I love his wines.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

I want to have a picture with all the geniuses.

A few sailors come in with food, wine, cigarettes and multicoloured sweets. Homer appears

behind them.

HOMER

You have all kind of liquors here. I have brought blonde, brown, and Asian

marihuana. There are also different concentrations of opium plus LSD, mescaline,

sublimated heroin and morphine.

They all applaud the host while the Beatles fiddle with their guitars.

CALCULATOR

I’ll drink wine.

As the guests help themselves to food and stimulants, Mele arrives behind the ball.

MELE

Hiya!

HOMER

Would you like to have something, your majesty?

MELE

Hiya!

He goes after the ball.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- AFTERNOON

A sailor moves towards the president.

326

SAILOR

Your Excellency, someone wants you on the phone.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Someone wants me?

SAILOR

Yes, sir. They say it’s urgent.

HOMER

Bring him the phone.

The sailor goes away as the Beatles smoke marihuana and take the other drugs.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- AFTERNOON

The sailor brings the phone to the president and a man wearing a suit with decorations appears

in the small three-dimensional screen.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

What’s the matter minister?

MINISTER

It’s bad, Excellency.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Tell me quickly, man.

MINISTER

The referee has made a penalty against our team, after twenty five minutes of

the football match against the republic of Bajuras.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

That’s not possible. It’s an attempt against me. That’s…

MINISTER
327

I interrupt you, excellent president of the republic of Salvacion, to tell you with

respect that the penalty has been effective. We’re losing one to zero.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

They’re dirty dogs!

MINISTER

You can give me your instructions, Your Excellency.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Call all the reserves of air and sea.

The astronaut moves across the scene holding two globes of different colours.

MINISTER

We’ll do as your Excellency says.

He bows before the screen.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Keep me informed.

He puts the receiver down and breathes deeply.

HOMER

Is it bad news, Excellency?

Madam is naked. She sits next to the Beatles and sings.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Something awful has happened, dear Homer. In the football game for the final of

the Jules Rimmet cup, the Barujas team has scored a penalty. What an indignity!

The sacred emblem of my country has been dirtied by that bunch of idiots.

The voice of Madam singing with the Beatles floats around the ship.

CAGANGOSTO

During a bullfight in Cali, I…

CALCULATOR

Drink more wine, matador.

328

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

I want to buy your arms again, Homer. My country is in danger and we can’t waist

any time. I’ll buy thirty planes with bombs.

HOMER

Yes, of course.

He leaves the scene.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Assassins, BASTARDS!

CAGANGOSTO

Why don’t you take the man who is kicking about?

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Do you mean his majesty, King Mele?

CAGANGOSTO

Yes, man.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

I’d like to do that but he’s a foreigner. He’d have to become a citizen of my

Country first.

I don’t think his country would want to lose such a jewel. It’s the same as if

Venezuela gave away its petrol, Japan its factories, England its queen, Argentina

its generals, Colombia the Tequendama Falls, Brazil the Amazon River or China

its great wall.

The Beatles are singing in a choir. The girls imitate Madam, and take off their clothes.

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- LATE AFTERNOON

The President of Salvacion is on the phone again. The figure of the minister appears in the

screen.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
329

What’s happening?

The minister vows.

MINISTER

I have the honour of informing your Excellency that the first time finished 1-0.

Seven members of our sporting agency have been killed, including the technical

director, the trainer and two advisers.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

What have you done?

MINISTER

Your Excellency, we dispatched a small plane. It flew over the stadium in the

capital of Bajuras, where it dropped a small bomb, killing a central judge and

four spectators.

A sailor puts a few papers on the table. The Beatles and the girls are naked now.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

You’ll get more arms in a few minutes, but you must use what you have at the moment.

MINISTER

We’ll do just that, Excellency.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

Let me see the match on the telephone.

After the minister vows, the football field appears in the screen. Several men kick a ball, while

others lie on the muddy and bloody floor.

PRESENTER

The player of Salvacion at the right side of the field takes the ball. He passes it to

another one, who is stabbed by the central defence of Barujas as you can see.

The left defence of Salvacion points the machine gun towards the opposite goalie
330

but the referee stops the bloodshed.

Bajuras is winning 1-0, as they come with the stretcher to pick up the wounded

from the floor. The left defence of Bajuras is dead. The referee, who replaced the

one killed during the first time, calls the substitute. You can see the new player

showing the carnet of FIFA in the right side.

What an interesting game! Ladies and gentlemen, this is getting red hot. There

are hundreds of dead people in the stands as the Salvacion army invades the

northern frontiers of the other country. The game is getting better.

As Mele kicks his ball against the telephone, it breaks in a thousand pieces.

MELE

Hiya!

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

No, man.

HOMER

What a problem.

CALCULATOR

His Majesty has finished with the game.

CAGANGOSTO

It was so interesting.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION

What can I do now?

HOMER

I have the contract ready for your majesty to sign. You can travel in a helicopter

straight away.

The Beatles and the girls sing and dance naked, as Homer picks up the papers from the table

and leaves with the president.

331

The astronaut climbs up a wall. Then he drops down into a net, he had put there before.

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- LATE AFTERNOON

Homer and the sailors bring a few things.

HOMER

We must sing together now, boys.

The Beatles sing noisily while Cagangosto climbs on the table and dances flamenco.

Homer looks after his instruments, as king Mele kicks his ball about.

They all fall down on the floor a few moments later, except Mele, who runs away kicking his

ball and Homer.

HOMER

Thank you everyone. I have just recorded the greatest moment in the century.

I’m calling it twentieth century symphony.

332

The nuns

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

Two men wearing long gowns sit on the top deck of a yacht. One of them is a big man with an

even bigger stomach, a crown on his head and rings on his gingers.

The other one doesn’t have a crown on his head but he has a few pendants with crosses around

his neck.

They drink cups of tea while looking at the dark sea under the light of the full moon. Some

cups are on the table along with a plate full of cakes and biscuits.

CARDINAL

It’s nice of Homer to let us hide in his floating mansion after the Beatles have gone.

BISHOP

He likes to help his friends.

CARDINAL

He gets my blessings.

They drink their cups of tea. The cardinal takes one of the cakes as crumbs fall down his gown

and eats it.

A nun wearing a blue tunic with matching head gear moves towards them while pushing a few

strands of hair back.

SISTER CAMILLA

It’s nice to find the children of God together.

CARDINAL

We were talking about Homer’s generosity. He let us use his boat while ignoring

the general.

SISTER CAMILLA

They want to take him to court in the mainland.

333

BISHOP

He’s a hero.

SISTER CAMILLA

I want him to be canonised by the pope.

She sits at the table and takes a cup of tea as Fifi appears in the scene. She wears a transparent

blouse and a small mini skirt.

BISHOP

Fifi, it’s nice to see you here.

FIFI

I’m enjoying Homer’s hospitality.

Fifi shakes hands with the priests and hugs Sister Camilla. A tall nun wearing the same clothes

as the other one appears in the scene.

SISTER ROSA

It’s nice to find so many members of the clergy in this yacht.

CARDINAL

We haven’t seen our host yet.

Sister Rosa pours herself a cup of hot coffee, takes a biscuit from the plate and sits next to

Sister Camilla as Homer appears accompanied by a young woman dressed in combat clothes.

She’s tall with long legs, black hair and false eye lashes.

They all stand up and applaud.

HOMER

I hope you’re enjoying your stay in my yacht.

SISTER CAMILLA

We are glad to be in this ship, far from a dangerous country.

HOMER

Consider me as your saviour.

He gestures to the girl.

334

HOMER

This is Amelia. She is the head of the revolutionary movement of our country.

Amelia salutes everyone army style and looks at Fifi.

AMELIA

I have seen your face in the papers. You must be the wife of the general.

Fifi nods.

FIFI

I’m glad to meet you.

AMELIA

I wish I could say the same thing.

HOMER

Let’s drink to our health and freedom.

A sailor appears with a tray full of glasses plus two bottles of wine and puts everything on the

table.

HOMER

Cardinal, would you like a glass of wine?

CARDINAL

I want a cup of tea.

HOMER

Does anyone want wine?

FIFI

I want a gin and tonic.

AMELIA

I wouldn’t mind a gin and tonic, Uncle Homer.

A sailor goes around replenishing cups of tea and coffee and pours gin and tonic in the girls’

glasses. Amelia stands in front of everyone.

335

AMELIA

Dear comrades. We have to talk about freedom. Our countries must be governed by people

who don’t slave and torture their fellow human beings in the name of bigotry.

She pauses to take a sip of her gin and tonic.

AMELIA

We must attack the forces of evil.

They applaud.

HOMER

I have the arms ready for your fight.

AMELIA

It’s God’s fight, Uncle Homer. We must win over the people who kill and torture us.

She kisses him.

HOMER

I have a surprise for you.

As he claps his hands, a few women wearing uniforms salute them military style.

Amelia looks pleased.

AMELIA

Attention!

The women stand in front of her.

AMELIA

One, two, one, two…

They march around the scene.

AMELIA

Rest now.

They disperse as Amelia sips her drink. Homer hugs her, feeling around her bosom.

CARDINAL
336

That was a good show of solidarity.

BISHOP

You’re fighting for the country.

AMELIA

We want the liberation from the oppressor.

They all look at Fifi.

FIFI

I have left my husband, the general.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

As music comes out of the loudspeakers, Homer dances with Amelia while Sister Camilla and

Sister Rosa dance with each other. The bishop, the cardinal and Fifi sip their drinks.

The army women sit in a circle and spin a bottle on the floor. Every time it stops, one of them

has to take their clothes off, while the four members of the clergy try to ignore them. The

cardinal looks at the girls’ breasts as Sister Rosa shakes her head and holds her rosary.

SISTER ROSA

Our father who art in heaven…

CARDINAL

Hallowed be thy name…

SISTER CAMILLE

Thou kingdom will come…

Fifi moves across the scene and disappears through a door.

CUT TO

INT. CABIN IN LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT

Chucho writes on his notebook under the light of his lamp as someone knocks at the door.

FIFI (O.S)
337

Chucho, it’s me. Can I come in?

As Fifi opens the door and steps in the untidy room, she sees papers covering the floor while

the table is full of things.

FIFI

It’s crazy outside there.

Chucho stops writing.

CHUCHO

I’m working on the last part of Homer’s manuscripts.

FIFI

Jose was an invisible friend.

CHUCHO

I know

Fifi caresses his fur and kisses his mouth while he writes.

CHUCHO

Not now, Fifi.

She reads what Chucho writes.

FIFI

Why are you leaving a space here?

CHUCHO

It’s something I don’t understand.

Loud music comes from outside.

CHUCHO

You must go back to the party.

FIFI

I want to stay with you.

As she kisses his fur, Chucho’s eyes are fixed in the manuscript.
338

INT.CABIN IN LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

Fifi tidies the room, as Chucho writes.

CHUCHO

Don’t touch my papers.

FIFI

Homer’s son said they’ll explain everything.

CHUCHO

I didn’t know he had a son.

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

Fireworks go up the sky and the air has a pinkish hue as smoke rises to the stars.

The women are naked while the cardinal, the bishop and the nuns pray.

HOMER

This is a night to remember.

AMELIA

Hurrah to our hero!

EVERYONE

Hurrah!

The music starts again and the girls dance with each other. Amelia approaches the cardinal

who looks away.

SISTER ROSA

You are naked, my child.

AMELIA

This is the way God sent me to this world.

HOMER
339

I’ll dance with you.

The music goes on as the cardinal prays.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

The sailors bring a table with papers and calculators.

HOMER

We have to do our transactions now.

AMELIA

I’ll sign a cheque for the ammunitions and the tanks, Uncle Homer.

She sits at the table, her breasts trembling as she writes on the cheque.

AMELIA

We’ll kill those bastards.

The naked girls intone a revolutionary song, holding hands as Homer pours champagne in the

glasses. Then the girls come to the table for their drinks.

AMELIA

We toast to the revolution.

ALL THE GIRLS

To the revolution.

CARDINAL

Ora pro novis…

HOMER

We’ll have a firework display tonight.

CARDINAL

I won’t be here.
340

Miguel

I’m Miguel and I had arrived at Homer’s yacht with Jaramillo, who wanted to talk to the

intelligent chimpanzee in the floating paradise, but it looked more like a floating shop.

Chucho’s owner gave me a letter that I delivered to Homer on the first day. Everything was not

bad as I said before. The liquor, the women and drugs were first class. Stupid bosses,

industrialists, sexy and frigid women and lesbians wanted something from Homer. Some

people went there on business and the rest for the same thing but Homer always kept something

from them. Amelia and her women had just left the yacht, and Fifi had flown there after the

death of the president.

The arms of a Russian duchess in exile had received me on the first day. Duchesses are the

same as maids, but this one had beautiful breasts, like a couple of doves with rosy beaks. I

could never understand why the communists had thrown her out of the country instead of

Stalin’s moustache, but I think Marxism produces irreversible foolishness. Everybody

congregated on deck as fireworks went up the sky, leaving a trail amidst the clouds.

“It’s beautiful,” my duchess said.

She held my hands against her bosom, warm with desire. I didn’t know how I could love

someone I had just met in the yacht. Once I had a wife and a family but Homer’s money had

finished with all of that, leaving me on my own through life. I didn’t want an affair to mar my

life during my time in the yacht. I had looked after the shop by the market and had to work

hard to earn my money many years ago, when I had a family to feed. I couldn’t rest one

minute, or Homer wouldn’t have paid me my wages, and I used to spend my life counting the

coins in my pocket to buy the food for my family.

“Would you like an aguardiente?” a voice interrupted.

On looking up, I came face to face with a chimpanzee dressed as a sailor, pushing a try

towards my chest while showing me his teeth. We stared at each other for a few moments,

when everything else around me had stopped and the duchess didn’t interrupt us. Chucho had

fascinated me ever since the first moment I had met him. He had shown his intelligence when
341

doing his duties in a ship full of strange characters. Holding one of the glasses in the tray, I

took a sip of the strong aguardiente Homer had bought from somewhere in the Caribbean.

“Thank you,” I said.

Showing me his teeth, he moved away from us, his legs struggling to keep the balance on

the floor. It had to be hard for a two legs walking chimp aboard a ship but he managed fine.

“He can talk,” my duchess said.

“Chucho is clever,” I said.

“It’s weird,” she said.

I knew about all the things happening in Homer’s yacht, far stranger than any talking chimp

or anything else for that matter. Offering his tray full of drinks to most of the guests taking the

sun by the pool, Chucho looked like a child learning how to walk but he didn’t seem to care.

“Hi Chucho,” they said.

Showing his teeth, he uttered a greeting in perfect Spanish, his hands reaching for the

tumblers left in the tray. I thought he wanted them drunk or he just had to fetch more

aguardientes from the bar.

He wobbled about the deck grinning at everyone, his eyes framed by his fur. His sailor’s suit

must have belonged to a child before him, while he wore a hat with blue and white stripes.

“I have to work,” he said.

“Homer won’t mind,” they said.

Shaking his head, Chucho moved away, leaving a trail of water on the floor. He must have

stepped on a puddle in his way through the deck. I saw him wobbling through the corridor

towards the kitchen in the lower deck, his short legs trying to keep the balance.

“He’s not human,” my duchess said.

“But he’s clever.”

I showed her the pictures I had taken of my trip to the mountains, where I had met a few

remarkable people. She liked the parrot and the snake, trying to keep warm in people’s beds

during the night.

342

“I’ll get some more drinks,” she said.

As my duchess looked at her reflection in the mirror adorning the wall, she twirled around

adjusting her bikini in the right places. Satisfied with her body, she did a few exercises while

standing in the same place and touching her toes without bending her waist. She had to keep

her weight or otherwise she might not fit in the beautiful dresses she had bought from Homer

during the years. Then she left the taste of lipstick in my lips, before moving towards the bar,

where Homer spoke to some of his passengers.

“She’s nice,” Jaramillo said.

“I know.”

I had forgotten all about the tall man sitting by our side and drinking orange juice with some

tablets as a protection against seasickness. The journalist held a roll of papers, held together

with a paper clip. I had seen them before in Homer’s shop, when he used to study them for

hours in the cellar.

“Homer found them on the floor,” I said.

Jaramillo nodded. “He thinks they keep the knowledge of everything in the world.”

“He must be joking,” I said.

“I left a few examples of my work in Homer’s workshop,” Jaramillo said.

“Why?”

“Chucho wants to study them.”

I couldn’t stop looking at the lines mixing with the white spaces in the page and giving me a

headache. Jaramillo hoped Professor Alvarez from the National University would send an

expedition to the jungle to find more manuscripts.

“It’s the end of season,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I want to find out.”

I thought the journalist had gone mad but I had something to do in the yacht, distracting me

from everything else. Homer had thought the jungle controlled his life through his invisible
343

friend. I never thought a few papers would provoke so much controversy, but then Homer

appeared with my duchess. After putting a few drinks on the table, she sat by my side.

“I must see Chucho,” Jaramillo said.

“He’s with Fifi.”

“I don’t mind.”

As he left the table, my duchess sat on my lap, while searching for my hands. I don’t how

she could do so many things at the same time.

“You took a long time,” I said.

“Homer showed me his trophies.”

“What trophies?”

“He had a matador called Cagangosto, who likes to collect the heads of bulls.”

“It seems a strange hobby,” I said.

She smiled. “Matadors are funny people.”

Looking at the clouds covering the sun, I thought the fine weather might end now or the

curses had stolen our star.

“It will rain for tomorrow,” Homer said. “The weatherman said.”

“They are never right,” I said.

Homer sipped his drink as the sun struggled to appear behind the clouds- It had to rain

sometimes in the Caribbean Sea- and he took off his clothes while the orchestra played a

tango.

“Hurrah to Homer,” people said.

He danced around the place wearing nothing, apart from a bracelet and his hat. I don’t know

what women found in him, but they cheered and clapped their hands. After the girls had taken

off their clothes, the top deck looked like a nudist camp, as Homer pranced around the deck like

a kangaroo.

“Yes,” my duchess said.

344

I saw her dancing naked amongst crowd, her nipples moving up and down, as she lost

herself to the madness of the yacht.

“Why don’t you join us?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

Pulling my underpants, we formed a circle around the pool, while the sound of the music

filled everything and the fireworks exploded in the sky.

“The president has died,” someone said.

“Hurrah to the general,” they said.

345

Eureka

I forgot all about Chucho and his quest in my sessions with my duchess, when we lost

ourselves in a fog of love and marihuana in our cabin. The rays of the sun came through the

curtains making funny shapes on the floor as I woke up later. It was a day like any other in

Homer’s yacht. The sailors hurried along the corridors, while I rested on the duchess’ ample

bosom. As I opened the curtains, I saw the blue sea under the morning sun. A sailor knocked

at the door.

“Do you want to have breakfast in your room?” he asked.

“We are eating by the pool today,” I said.

I admired the duchess’ body as she put her swimming costume on her bronzed skin. We

made love again and by the time we went outside, breakfast had finished. Homer held hands

with a blond girl, who had a big bust as his diary lay on the table.

“Good morning,” he said. “Would you like a drink?”

I had a headache from the alcohol I had the night before.

“I prefer an orange juice,” I said.

My duchess jumped on the pool and did a few backstrokes, but then she floated on the water

like a nymph under the rays of the sun.

“She’s beautiful,” I said.

Homer nodded with the pen in his hand, looking a bit tired after all the fun we had the night

before. The sun reigned supreme above us, while my duchess dried herself with a big towel,

looking more tanned than ever. She must have forgotten her sun cream or our star had more

power today.

“It’s a beautiful day,” she said.

I nodded. “I love you.”

Her tongue searching for mine, we had a long kiss full of saliva and germs. I hoped nothing

would end the best day of my life for a long time. Holding my hands, the duchess, caressed my

face suntanned by the ultraviolet rays of the sun. Then one of the sailors came towards us.
346

“Jaramillo wants to see you,” he said. “It’s important.”

“I’ll be back in a moment,” I said.

Nodding, the duchess sat next to Homer. I had a last look at them, before following the

sailor down the ramp and towards the lower deck. I found the journalist in Chucho’s cabin,

while the chimpanzee screamed, his fur looking untidy.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

He must have lost his sanity, running around the room, and stepping on the books piled on

the floor. Then I remembered that word from my school days, when I had learned everything

in the world.

“He’s found it,” Fifi said.

“What has he found?”

“It’s the end of time,” she said.

“I don’t understand.”

The chimpanzee’s short legs bent every time he jumped on the bed like a yoyo, while

shouting strange words. Some more books fell at my feet, dust rising in the air like a volcano

eruption around us.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

“Stop him,” Fifi said.

I held Chucho’s long arms but he escaped as Jaramillo ran after him. I wanted to know why

he had gone back to his wild state, forgetting everything he had learned during the years.

“Eureka,” he said.

“Anything might happen now,” Fifi said.

“That is nonsense,” I said.

Looking at the pages on the bed, I saw words in another language. They couldn’t be

dangerous, but Chucho ran with his knuckles on the floor.

“Let’s talk about this,” I said.

347

Chucho screamed, waving his arms in the air. A few more people had come in the room,

alerted by the chimp’s screams.

“He’s excited,” I said.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

As we followed him along the corridor, I thought he had tried some of Homer’s marihuana

or perhaps L.S.D. Then he climbed up the mast, his small body framed against the sky.

“Eureka,” he said.

We saw lights floating amidst the clouds, bringing confusion to the yacht. Homer must have

started another round of fireworks to entertain us. A man of many talents, he loved improvising

a show, when we didn’t expect it.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

A white mantle of fog had descended over the world, as colours exploded in the air in the

best display I had ever seen. Homer was a genius. Then one of the sailors appeared holding a

radio.

“You must listen to this,” he said.

We heard the presenter talking of a world in chaos: “Astronomers think our star might

explode as a nova. The word means new, because stars appear in the sky, where nothing was

there before. If this is true, we have an alarm to transmit all over the world. The

communication satellites have disappeared that’s why we have put together all the radio

stations. We ask you to remain calm.”

People took cover in the rooms below deck, as Homer tried to reach the mast where Chucho

rested amidst the fog.

“What did the manuscripts say?” Homer asked.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

“Please tell me.”

“Eureka.”

“I’ll give you lots of money.”

348

Looking at the sky, Chucho screamed, sliding down the pole.

“According to the latest news, the sun is pulsating,” the presenter said. “Our sun seems to

have more energy that its size requires but we must keep calm. Most of the victims have

happened because of the general panic. Many people have died inside the churches here in

Bogotá and the authorities have decided to shut them. The rest of the country must do the same

thing.”

The world had turned nasty in a few moments, but I still thought Homer had improvised the

whole thing. He must have asked someone to record the radio program earlier in the morning

to make it more realistic.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

I thought of the tribe living throughout the ages, before a stranger had killed them in the

name of coca, according to the legends Fifi had told me.

“Look at the sky,” she said.

I saw lights dancing in the heavens, as the beautiful day turned nasty, the waves taking the

ship up and down.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

More lights danced in the heavens as the presenter talked of a world in chaos.

“The country has awoken today to a rare phenomenon, caused by the sun pulsating,

according to the experts. Many people have died in the confusion, but we beg you to keep

calm.”

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

The voice in the radio urged us to keep away from the sea, making us more nervous. I

remained with my duchess, while the world collapsed around us in a symphony of colours.

“You must stop this joke,” I said.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

My duchess held my hands as the sky roared in cosmic tones and everyone went mad.

Taking the radio from Homer’s hands, I switched it off.

349

“This is a farce,” I said.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

350

The seven minutes

“This is the national radio with the number one news at the moment,” the presenter said.

“It’s raining in Bogotá. Attention! An electric storm has developed over the city, with rain and

hail.”

It also rained on the yacht, thunder echoing around us, while fingers of light played above

our heads.

“It’s the end of time,” Fifi said.

My duchess couldn’t take her eyes off the sky, excited by the beautiful colours drifting like a

carrousel on fire.

“Can you see that?” she asked.

More dancing lights were in the horizon.

“Marihuana, L.S.D or heroin had never given me such sensations,” she said.

“I know.”

“Homer won’t tell us how he prepares the cocktails,” she said. “It must be an oriental

mystery.”

“He wants to frighten us,” I said.

We wondered what could be happening to the world while listening to the radio and

drinking alcohol. That had to calm our nerves.

“We give you an extraordinary bulletin,” the presenter said. “The sun will explode in a

nova. The word means new, because sometimes a star appears where nothing was there

before.”

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

“I knew it,” I said.

Homer wrote amidst the fog and the lights, while the voice in the radio told us to be calm.

Appearing amidst the fog, Atenagoras looked pale, his hair falling over his face.

“We’re navigating by radar,” he said.

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Taking Homer aside, they conferred for a few moments, the lights dancing in the sky like a

carrousel of fire. He must have hired another boat for the best spectacle I had ever seen in my

life.

“Look at those colours falling over the clouds,” my duchess shouted.

I saw a fountain of blue light, evaporating slowly like a Christmas decoration amongst the

fog.

“It has crashed with the arch,” I said.

“It’s superb.”

“Where is Homer?” someone asked.

“We want the formula.”

That man is a witch.”

“A fat sun is rising over there.”

“Don’t bite me.”

“Hurrah to our host.”

“The captain is a cynic.”

“You’re mad.”

”What’s the name of that?”

“Where’s my cup?”

“Wait for it to finish.”

“If you kiss me ten times, I’ll tell you.”

“Has anyone seen my glasses?”

“Let’s dance.”

“Hurrah to the party.”

“Hurrah to Homer.”

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

The fog had thickened, and hail fell over the world. My duchess held my hands, as Homer

appeared amidst the fog, followed by Chucho, his fur looking dirty.
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“Something bad is about to happen,” Homer said.

We heard more news on the radio.

“You have to lie down on the floor in a safe place as I say the words: we have seven

minutes,” the presenter said. “That is when the explosion of the sun will reach us.”

“You pretend the sun ends in a nova,” I said.

“What is a nova?” Fifi asked.

“This is a conspiracy,” I said.

“I don’t understand,” Fifi said.

We had some more L.S.D, and I drank a bottle of good wine in the arms of my duchess, the

arch of fire spreading around the heavens. I enjoyed the spectacle above us while lying in her

lap.

“It’s the curse,” Fifi said.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

“We must find the Indians,” she said.

“I need Kam,” Homer said.

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

“We must keep calm,” the presenter said. “Most of the victims have happened because of

the general panic. It doesn’t look good in New York, where the skyscrapers have disappeared

under the fog. They have lost communications with all space craft in Houston. We don’t know

the number of ships and planes involved in accidents as confusion reigns on earth.”

I heard the guests talking amongst themselves.

“Are we running away from New York?” someone said.

“They’re right. It’s boring.”

“It must be the high rents.”

“Homer is a genius. First he shows us lights, and now he frightens us.”

“Where did you buy that record?”

“Do you have a novel by Wells?”

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Then the presenter spoke again. “You must lie somewhere safe when we say the words: we

only have seven minutes. Attention!”

“We know that,” I said.

“The general has won,” Homer said.

I shrugged. “It’s a bad thing for the nation.”

Then Homer told us all about his birth under the dark sun, when the doctors had looked at

the sky from the top of the building.

“They thought I was a girl,” he said.

“It must have been awful.”

Homer went quiet, while I reflected in our present situation of dead and doom. He wanted

to impress his guests in his yacht full of pyrotechnic prowess. The seven minutes must have

been arranged by his wizards of space and time, as the richest man on earth entertained his

guests.

“We have some more news,” the presenter interrupted. “The planet Mercury has exploded.

We’ll feel the results of the explosion very soon.”

“Eureka,” Chucho said.

Holding his long arms, I stopped him for a few moments.

“You must tell us what that means,” I said.

“It’s a Greek word,” Homer said. “A wise man told me that.”

I didn’t want to hear anymore things. Homer’s powers of deceit had made us blind to the

real events going on in the world.

“We have seven minutes,” the presenter said. “Attention all the world. We have seven

minutes!!”

Holding the duchess hands, I wondered what else would happen now. Homer had to stop

this charade of frightening us to death while the countdown went on in the radio and the sky

acquired a red tinge.

“We have six minutes,” the presenter said.

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Thunder rumbled about us, as the waves lifted the boat up and down. He must have

managed to organise the bad weather with his money. Homer could be so cunning.

“You must stop the charade,” I said.

“I can’t.”

“Four minutes,” the radio interrupted.”

“It must be the Indian’s curse,” he said.

I remember the little man coming to see him all those years ago. He couldn’t be the cause of

everything. Putting the radio on the floor, Homer prayed to someone, while a few moons

appeared in the sky. I admired the beautiful view amidst the lights and the fog. It would be a

day to remember if we didn’t dissolve in zillions of atoms in a few moments.

“We have three minutes,” the radio said...

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Prologue

Homer awakes in another land, as a moon with spots of different colours shines in the sky.

Sitting up on the floor, he thinks it must be his shop by the market, while Miguel sells to the

customers.

“I must find my petrol ships,” he mutters to himself.

Looking at the moon shining over the world amongst the shadows of the trees, he feels

frightened for his life. He has never got used to his night terrors, even if he had many of them

during the years. Then Jose appears amidst the mist coming over the world.

“Has the world finished?” Homer asks.

“It might have done.”

“Tell me, please.”

Holding his truck, Jose moves closer to him, his freckles visible in the moonlight.

“The tree of life protected you from death,” he says.

“Where is Kam?”

“You left her in the jungle.”

“That was years ago.”

“Time doesn’t exist here.”

Homer thinks of the day Uncle Hugh appeared in the middle of lunch amidst the debris of

his life and the end of time. On moving amidst the darkness, he finds some papers and other

things in the floor. He reads Miguel’s description of the end of time inside the yacht.

“Where is everyone?” Homer asks.

“They’re gone,” Jose says.

Civilisation has ended, leaving him with his night terrors. Seeking refuge from the weather

in a world of darkness, he crouches inside one of the huts, while covering himself with some

rugs he finds on the floor.

“It started with the dark sun,” Homer says.

Sitting by his side, Jose runs his truck along the floor.
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“It might have done.”

Then everything falls into place, as Homer remembers floating in his mother’s womb and

the death of a nation. The child born under the dark sun has completed his life cycle. The

Indians, the boats, the widows and the manuscripts make sense.

“Am I the other Homer?” he asks.

“You must find out by yourself.”

“I don’t understand.”

As the wind gathers force and the trees move under the hurricane, Homer goes back in time

to the backyard with its muddy floor, and the sun careering through the sky in its journey to

Armageddon...
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SPANISH WORDS

1: El Baratillo: a shop that sells cheap things.

2: Aguardiente: Colombian liquor.

3: Socorro is a woman’s name.

4: Mulato: person of mixed origin.

5: Pandebobo is a kind of bread.

6: Panela is made of sugar cane.

7: Antioqueno is someone from Antioquia, a region in North West Colombia.

8: Morcilla is a kind of sausage. It’s made with the intestines of a pig.

9: Bocadillos: Colombian sweet made with Guava and sugar.

10: Campesinos: country people.

11: Sancocho is a regional chicken soup.

12: Mazato: a drink made with corn.

13: Arepa: pastry made with corn and sometimes cheese.

14: Curuba: tropical fruit.

15: Boyaca is a region of Colombia.

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