What a week it was. I should have posted this last Friday, but hey, better late… Anyway, last week we talked about Alice in Wonderland and the Logic of the Absurd. We saw how, even though the logic of the place where actions take place may not be what we expect, we still need for the place to be self-consistent. In the exercise we have been asked to consider talking to Time. Not as an abstract concept that governs our lives, but as an actual character. Here we go
¿Qué tal? Parece que fue ayer que platicamos. Distinto lugar, situación parecida.
El verano terminó demasiado pronto, a pesar del calor sofocante, húmedo, bochornoso. Después de pensarlo un año y un verano más, la fecha para empezar este capítulo se acerca. Con un pequeño clic volteó a verme. Traía el mismo traje de 1999, sin una sola arruga; el saco todavía tenía ese olor de tintorería y el sombrero no había cambiado en nada. Contaba en voz baja: uno, dos, trescientos, tres mil seiscientos segundos por minuto. Nunca lo corrijo. Él lleva la cuenta; yo no.
Así es, asintió, con ese tono de metrónomo. ¡Distinta ciudad! ¿Trajiste la documentción?
Puse sobre la mesa una carpeta gruesa. Adentro, mi expediente; todo al corriente.
Esta vez es un área fuera de mi zona de confort.
La zona se ha expandido antes, contestó. Tengo el acta, dijo pasando una hoja sin mirarla. Firmamos en el mes de agosto la última vez.
Sí. Sabes estoy nervioso, han sido casi tres décadas desde la última vez. No sé qué esperar.
Yo sí. Ya lo vi. Cerró la carpeta. No es ventaja, es papeleo.
Le extendí la mano. La suya era cálida y suave, como siempre.
Entonces empezamos en octubre.
Ya empezamos, dijo. No te sigas retrasando.
How are things? Feels like we spoke only yesterday. Different place, very much the same situation.
Summer ended too soon, in spite of the heat: stifling, humid, muggy. After thinking it over for another year and another summer, the date to begin this new chapter is nearly here. With a small click he turned to look at me. He was wearing the same suit from 1999, not a single crease in it; the jacket still carried that dry-cleaner’s smell, and the hat hadn’t changed at all. He was counting under his breath: one, two, three hundred, three thousand six hundred seconds to the minute. I never correct him. He keeps the count; not me.
That’s right, he agreed, in that metronome tone of his. Different city! Did you bring the paperwork.
I put a thick folder on the table. Inside, my file; all of it up to date.
This time it’s an area outside my comfort zone.
‘he zone has expanded before, he replied. I’ve got the record he said while turning a page without looking. We signed in August, last time.
Yes. You know, I’m nervous, it’s been nearly three decades since last time. I don’t know what to expect.
I do. I’ve already seen it. He closed the folder. It isn’t an advantage, it’s admin.
I put out my hand. His was, as always, warm and soft.
Then, we start in October.
We’ve already started, he said. Don’t keep putting it off.