Ismael Camacho

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JOSE ISMAEL CAMACHO A LIFE Jose Ismael Camacho was a Colombian writer with a giant imagination. He was born in lebrija- Colombia on the 03- 16- 1926 and died in Palmira- Colombia on the 10-21-1995 I’m telling the story of my father in the next few pages. His life is very important to me. He was a writer like me but did not share my idea of Cryonics. I can’t accept his death, even though it happened ten years ago. I didn’t want him to die and disappear forever.

I’m sharing with you the life of a clever, funny and gifted Colombian writer, a man who could talk about any topic and knew everything.  A father that I miss and wished he could have been preserved for eternity.


Santander del Norte was a quiet province in the north of Colombia at the beginning of the twentieth century.  It had been rocked a few times by the wars between the liberals and the conservadores during the last century.  In a quiet village called Lebrija an hour away from Bucaramanga, a young woman (Josefina Camacho) went in labour.  She already had two other children and had lost a few others at birth.
Little Horacio Camacho was five years old and his sister Lijia, two years old as they waited with their father outside the room.  As Josefina pushed for a last time, a rose faced child appeared in the world, locks of brown hair stuck to his wet head.
The two children outside the room heard the baby crying and pushed the door.  The father, Ismael Camacho, rushed to his wife’s side and admired the new addition to the family, while the midwife cleaned the child and cut the umbilical cord.
The midwife didn’t let him near the baby.  Josefina had lost another child during the previous year.  The midwife wanted to make sure everything would be fine this time.  Ismael led his two other children out of the room.  He gave them some lunch while the midwife made sure mother and baby were all right.
That evening little Ismael slept in a small cot next to his mother’s side.  The sound of cockerels singing woke them up the next morning.  As the child cried, his mother put him to her breast.  The nmemory of her other children dying when young was fresh in her mind.
Little Jose Ismael grew up into a chubby child.  He had golden locks and looked like an angel from the Sixtine chappel.  He possessed a creatrive mind, even at a tender age.  He spent hours in the fields near his home, looking at the birds and the wonders of nature.  Many things lived in his fertile imagination.  Homer, the hero of his book might have been born as he admired nature.
My father's father died when he was five years old.  Then young Josephina travelled from their small town in northern Colombia with her three children towards the mountains of central Colombia, where her uncles, the priests lived.
Another relative helped them to treck on horses, through old roads.  Jose Ismael held his mother's waist as the animal galloped down the road.  Ligia and her brother shared another horse.
It was an adventure.  They led a primitive life,as they travelled towards the interior of the country in 1931.  As little Jose Ismael looked at nature all around him, he dreamed with another world.
They arrived at Choconta, where the uncles lived, a few days later.  it was a small town lost in the Andes, where the children went to school.  They led another life amongst the village in the middle of the mountains.
My father's uncles were catholic priests and paid for my father's education.  Jose Ismael was 14 years old when the second war world started. He used to read everything about the conflict.  He liked going to the movies to see films and the trailers of the time.

He finished school and studied medicine at the Universidad Nacional of Bogota. He got his degree in medicine and married his second cousin, Cecilia Mogollon, on the 14 of February 1952. Maria Cecilia Camacho (The writer of this page) was born on the fifteenth of February1953. My brother Ismael Hernando Camacho was born onthe thirty first of May 1954.

This is part of my father's novel.

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SIETE MINUTOS

Two and two are seven.  Homer imagined an army of green soldiers that looked like US dollars, filing past him.  The sea smelled of money and looked like an unending pile of green dollars.  What about the clouds?  On selling the clouds, he would have a rain of green dollars.
A slight rain, lasting half an hour, would produce a three thousand dollars profit.  A two hour thunderstorm would cost a small fortune.  Whoever couldn’t afford it would die of thirst.  Homer imagined his employees trying to solve New York’s water problems, Morocco’s dry weather or the need for beautiful sunsets in Bombay.
He looked at the sea and saw it covered in green dollars.  Green dollar was his favourite colour.
What about the waves? They should be used to move turbines and lift tractors.  It was a waste of energy to have them just rolling around.  They should be classified by their size.  The small ones would be worth one hundred dollars and the big ones fifteen hundred dollars.  The froth should be included in the price.  Sometimes it would be white but the colour could be changed to suit different tastes.
The world is crazy, Homer thought while sipping his favourite scotch.  Chickens should lay their eggs in boxes and sardines could grow in tins.  The air could be bottled and whoever can’t pay for it must die.  People without money shouldn’t be allowed to live.  They’re bad for society.
They contaminate the air with their dead bodies and waste much needed food.  The day the air can be controlled by a world wide Association of Proletarians, we’ll get rid of the unemployed.  They contaminate the planet with themselves and their rubbish.
That control would have another positive effect.  People who can’t buy the air must die in special sanatoriums and their organs would be used for transplants.  The poor things would get money for something they don’t need anymore.
Homer’s anguish trebled as he thought of matter’s passivity, people’s laziness and the galaxies’ indifference.
Nasa spends billions of dollars sending humans to the space station and probes to the moon and Mars.  With half of that money he could buy Manhattan and part of the Hudson River to charge the toll.  He could buy a fleet and look for oil in the seven seas.  He could buy The Vatican and convert it into the biggest museum in the world and rebuild the Chinese wall with neutron bombs.  He would build his home inside there and empty the yellow sea to fill it with dollars.  Why did they have to go to the moon?
He felt that anguish again.  It had to be a sign of superiority.  Some men had come to be under God’s tutelage while others had bad luck.
He had been born poor by accident and had been guided by divine inspiration since his birth.  He could barely remember his father.  He had been a man without limits, a man without space.  His mother on the other hand had acquired a profile as vigorous as that of Washington in the dollars.
She had told him a funny anecdote.  One day he had flown.  He could remember that event with mixed feelings.  He had just started to crawl and saw a dirty dollar that had fallen from somewhere.  It whirled around the patio propelled by the wind.  The dollar went up and down, span around and tried to land on the sand.  Baby Homer looked at the piece of paper that flew like a butterfly.
It became entangled in a tree’s branches next to the neighbour’s house.  The child couldn’t take his eyes away from the object.  He flew up there, rescued the dollar and put it in his wet nappies.  Everybody thought he had God’s blessing.  He had to be an angel because angel’s wings had been invented to rescue money from trees.
“You are a good boy,” his mother had said.
The baby smiled and showed his toothless gums.
“Dolls,” he muttered.
The child tried to tell his mother how he felt about dollars but she wouldn’t understand.
“He wants a doll,” she said.
Homer cried and his mother tried to comfort him.  “Dolls,” he whimpered.
His mother bought him a few dolls but he didn’t touch them.  Homer never knew why his parents didn’t exploit his qualities.  They let him walk like anyone else and never put dollars by his eyes or his wings.
After the incident they didn’t see the money anymore.  Confusion reigned in the region and it became part of another country.
Nobody knew where she or he had been born and more than three countries disputed the honour to have been Homer’s place of birth.  He became a hero and in some ways greater than his Greek counterpart.
The chain of his existence might have been interwoven by a benevolent God who wanted him to gain glory.  He considered the fact that he had no country an advantage in his life.  If you don’t have a country, you can be a citizen of anywhere in the world and without any inhibitions.
He thought as he finished his glass of scotch.  Schools should finish.  Why did they teach children so much rubbish?  I never learned anything and most of the wise men in the world are my slaves now.  Many documents accredit my relationship with the best universities while hundreds of papers signed by the pope and his dignitaries show that I have bought a place up in heaven.
Homer had never been to school.  His parents had gone to South America.  It looked from afar as a place full of gold and fools.  The first one turned out to be a lie but the second became true.
He didn’t have time to learn his own language and never managed to learn Spanish.  He spoke a mixture of languages but everyone managed to understand him.  He couldn’t read and write properly and seemed as ignorant as his Greek counterpart.
The first times he appeared in public were not spectacular.  He used to go to the ugliest part of the city with a suitcase in each hand.  His customers were hungry, had syphilis and tuberculosis but he sold his merchandise on easy terms.  He cried while reminding his customers of all his pain, suffering and sweating his merchandise cost him.  He had to pay for the goods while they could do it on credit and without any interest.
He discovered he couldn’t give anything free to poor people.  It had been one of the strongest pillars of the economy.  Homer might have been one of the discoverers of that fact.  Poor people like to pay their debts and it is the reason they remain poor.  Rich people want to make money and don’t care about anything else.
A few months later Homer’s business had improved.  A boy pulled a cart with a few battered suitcases while he marched in front of it.  Homer sold brassieres, trousers, table cloths, woven textiles from exotic places and colourful beads against bad luck.  Some other days he used to hire a bicycle to collect the money his poor customers owed him.  He cried if they didn’t pay him and his laments could soften the hardest person.  Engineers could use that to have better roads.
Time went past and Homer looked half starved and his clothes became ragged but the notes grew in his purse.  He counted his money every evening in the dilapidated room he shared with other people.  It had a strict timetable.  A man, his wife and four children lived in it up to eleven o’clock in the evening.  They had to look after a factory afterwards.  At three o’clock in the morning it became a cafeteria for the bus drivers and at three in the afternoon the workman and his family came back again.  Homer slept only for four hours in the room.  He didn’t have any trouble falling asleep and counted his money in his dreams.  He sold his food for the rest of the night and slept on his seat when he didn’t have many customers.
One day Homer had a shop.  He called it: El baratillo.  It was in one of the noisiest and dirtiest streets that surrounded the central market.  It lay in between a café where you could hear tangos and rancheras twenty four hours a day and a drugstore where a few non qualified doctors prescribed medications.  A fish shop was in front of it.  It had a smell of putrefaction that stuck to the clothing.  It gave Homer an additional advantage.  He didn’t have to spend money in water and soap.
Sometimes Homer didn’t have to pay for a room.  When the country was declared in state of emergency everybody in the street after eight pm got arrested.  They had to stay in the jail until six o’clock in the morning.  Then Homer became a cook.  He made delicious hamburgers of dog meat.  They were as good as the ones made of beef.  He went out to the street with a basket full of the staff and got detained by the police.
He slept for the whole night on a few boxes covered with rags.  It seemed better than his usual room.  He also sold his food to the other inmates.
“El baratillo” became an institution.  A neck tie that cost forty pesos was sold on credit at fourteen pesos and fifteen cents.  A dress of four hundred pesos could be reduced to one hundred and twenty and the same with everything else.
Homer bought an old bicycle to visit his customers’ houses and collect the weekly quotas.  He swept and tidied his small bedroom and paid himself a tiny wage.  He could drink a cup of tea with a bit of cheese on Sundays.  He drank warm water and sometimes switched his light on before he went to sleep.
One day something happened that changed Homer’s life.  It started in a simple way like all the great things in the world.
An Indian with a long black skirt and his hair in a pony tail stood in a corner of the shop.  He could be confused with one of the figurines of San Agustin on the counter because of his high cheek bones against the background of the dirty white wall.  He stayed there until the last client left the shop.
After checking they were alone, he invited the businessman to the darkest corner of the room.  He showed him a paper bag.  Homer could smell a good business and waited as the Indian opened the greasy bag.
Homer gasped.  He couldn’t believe what he saw or touched.  He held the thing in his hand and looked at it properly.  It was an Indian’s head reduced to the simplest expression.  It had its eyes shut and its mouth sewn.  The head had been cleanly cut and the hair went down to what it could be its shoulders. He felt attracted and repulsed at the same time.
It looked like its owner and anyone could think it was his son.  It seemed like a transistorised man’s head.
“How much is it?” Homer asked and the man shrugged.
“It must be free then.”
The man shook his head.  Homer saw a few rolls of cheap cloth he had been unable to sell and gave them to him.
“Thank you,” he muttered.
“Where did you find it?” Homer asked.
The man didn’t reply.  Homer couldn’t understand why he didn’t say much.  Perhaps he had his mouth sewn just as the small head’s lips.
“Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?”
The Indian nodded and put Homer’s gifts in his satchel.  Homer marvelled at the similarity between the Indian and the small head.
“Come to see me if you find any more heads,” Homer said.
The man finished with his tea and moved towards the door.  He muttered something and left the shop.
Homer thought he had discovered something never imagined.  He knew how Balboa must have felt when he set eyes on the Pacific Ocean or when Columbus shouted “Land” for the first time.
He admired the head for a while and put it in a padded envelope.  He mailed it to a friend in the USA the next morning.
They received it with deserved honours in the great country of the north.  One of the most respectable houses on the Fifth Avenue asked for ten thousand more heads and they would pay a good price for them.
The Indian’s second visit to the shop happened a few weeks later.  Homer led the man to his private room and gestured to his only chair.
“Make yourself at home.”
The Indian sat on the chair and opened the parcel.  Another head appeared.  It seemed almost identical to the first one.  Homer opened the wardrobe and gave a bag to the Indian.  The man looked inside and his eyes widened.
“I will give you an infinite quantity of coke if you bring me more heads,” Homer said.
The man appeared almost as happy as Homer.  He stood up and hopped around the room.  He finished with his dance and put the bag in his satchel.  He walked towards the door but Homer stopped him.
“Where did you find the heads?”
Homer gestured to the coke.  “I’ll give you many more bags of that stuff if you tell me.”
The man shrugged.  “I can take you to the jungle.”
Homer had not heard the man talking a whole sentence before.  It seemed to be a miracle.
“Can we go next week?” Homer asked.
“I’ll come to get you.”
He left with his bag of coke and Homer looked at the new head.  It would bring him a lot of money.
Homer’s name appeared in the newspapers for the first time: Foreign businessman wants to visit savages.  A number of of Homer’s ideas appeared afterwards.  He wanted to take civilisation to the hidden corners of the tropical jungle.
The Indian came to the shop a few days later and waited for Homer to finish doing business.
“We must go to the jungle now,” the man said.
Homer packed a few things in a suitcase.  He shut the shop and followed the Indian.
They boarded a bus that left them at the edge of the jungle.  Homer looked with curiosity at the undulating plane full of trees.
“Will we go by car?” he asked
The Indian gestured to a few mules munching the grass and Homer gasped.  He had never ridden a horse or a mule before.  The man put the cases on one of the beasts and helped Homer to get on his animal.
They went out of the town and started their trek through the plain.  The Indian rode in front while Homer tried to make his mule move.  His body hurt with every step the beast took.
They travelled through the jungle at a slow pace.  Homer didn’t care about the mosquitoes or the snakes.  He had his mind set on the Gringo’s dollars and everything else didn’t matter.
He didn’t remember how many days they moved through the jungle.  They slept in a tent the man had brought during the nights.  The Indian used to start a fire in the mornings and Homer made his cup of tea.
“We are near,” the man said one day.
Homer sighed.  His bottom was black and blue and he walked like a cowboy.  He had to sleep upside down in the evenings.  He felt like a conquistador trying to bring the light to the wild parts of South America.
They arrived at a clearing in the jungle later.  A small man waited by a hut.  He vowed in front of Homer.
“The chief is pleased to meet you,” the other man said.
Homer dismounted from his mule and staggered towards a seat.  The two men spoke in another language and looked at him.
“He wants to talk about business now,” the man said.
Homer nodded and wiped the sweat off his forehead.  The chief offered him a cup filled with a clear liquid.  It looked like water but Homer almost choked on it.
The man shrugged.  “It’s the chief’s liquor.”
The interview took place amongst the trees.  It was between Homer, the Indian, the chief, three snakes and thousands of mosquitoes.
Homer opened his case and put the bags of coke on the floor.  The chief took a bag and smelled the powder.
“Uguru nica be,” he said.
“He thanks you for God’s mineral,” the Indian said.
“Where are the ten thousand heads?”
The Indian translated and the chief gestured to a bag on the floor.  Homer opened it and saw three heads.  The Indians could only count up to one and anything over such a figure didn’t exist.
Homer would have to teach them how to count.  He explained to the two men that some other numbers existed apart from one.
He put a finger out and said, “One.”
They did the same thing and Homer tried with the number two.  The chief put two of his fingers up and said, “Two.”
Homer smiled.  “It’s good.”
They stuck three fingers out.  “It’s good.”
“No,” Homer said.
The chief showed four fingers, “No.”
Homer frowned.  He had to start with number one again.  Two hours later the men had learned to count up to ten.  He tried to explain to them that ten thousand would be many times ten.
He gestured to the coke.  “I’ll give you ten thousand bags if you bring me the same amount of heads.”
The chief shrugged.  “Mupu puoplatenet.”
“We don’t have so many Indians,” the man translated.
Homer gestured to a depression on the jungle floor.  “If you fill all of that with heads, I will bring as much coca.”
They seemed impressed with the amount of coca Homer had promised them.
The man boiled some water and Homer treated the Indians to a cup of tea.  The chief sipped his drink and looked at the coca in the bag.
“Bugara mona,” he said.
The other man smiled.  “He’s pleased.”
Homer needed many heads.  All the heads they could find had to be sent to him.  They would get a similar quantity of coca.  He slept that night in the chief’s hut and dreamed with the heads.  They chased him all over the place and muttered something through their sewn lips.
He woke up to the sounds of the jungle and under a cloud of mosquitoes.  After a bit of breakfast the chief had prepared, Homer got ready to go back to civilisation.
“The chief’s town is a few minutes away,” the man said.
Homer frowned.  A town meant many heads and they would bring dollars to his pocket.
“Can I see it?”
The man conferred with the chief and nodded his head.  They led him through the vegetation until Homer could see more huts.  A few children appeared and dogs barked.
Homer looked at the naked people and his eyes widened.  He could sell them his merchandise but the heads promised to be a more important proposition for the moment.
After a few more cups of tea they went back to the chief’s hut.  Then they packed their things on the mules and left.  Homer looked at the unending jungle as the donkey trotted along the path.  He had wrapped the three heads in a piece of paper and put them in his bag.  He hoped he would get many more heads.  The gringos would pay well for them.
He arrived at his city a few days later.  The journey had been tough and his body ached but he felt satisfied.  He expected to earn good money from his business transaction.
Many papers spoke of the foreigner’s conduct.  They discussed the fact that the country’s citizens didn’t care about the jungle.
The heads started to arrive at the shop and the coca travelled through the rain forest to the chief.  Homer had only mailed two thousand heads to the US by the end of the year.  They belonged to a neighbouring tribe where only two hundred people had been able to escape with their lives.
Homer felt angry.  The country needed money and with the Indian’s effort it had gained a few dollars.  Now they said the heads had finished.  A foreigner sacrificed his life to better the country while the citizens only wanted to sleep.
The man appeared in the shop again.  Homer took him to his private room and gestured to his only chair.
“Did you bring any heads?”
The man shook his head.  “No one has died.”
“Couldn’t you kill a few enemies?” Homer asked.
“We haven’t had any wars.”
Homer sighed.  The Indians could steal the neighbour’s cows or their women and that would provoke a war.  The man felt guilty and left the shop in silence.  He thought the coca would finish and his tribe would suffer.
The heads kept on coming and that helped to keep Homer’s peace of mind.  He earned money from the shop and the heads gave him dollars.  He acquired fame as an exporter and assured his rights as an importer.  He became interested in cigarettes because thousands of boxes arrived full of marihuana.  His horizons broadened even more.
One day the Indian didn’t come to see him.  Homer waited for a few days and another man appeared at the shop.  He had a basket covered with a cloth.
Homer finished serving his customers and shut the shop.  As he pushed the cloth away, he saw two small heads and a piece of dirty paper.  Something had been scribbled on it: Mr. Homer.  We send you the last two heads of our tribe.  They are the chief’s and my own.  Bye.
Homer looked inside the basket and his heart beat faster.  He recognised the Indian who had made him happy.  The man looked the same as how he had been with his head on and seemed to sleep inside the basket.  His lips had been sewn together.  It looked superfluous as he had not spoken much during his life.
He gave a few pesos to the man and shut the door.  Homer felt worried.  The Indians had finished and his business had come to an end.  Nothing is eternal and the Indians only had one head.
Heroes never give up.  Homer had seen the sea in his dreams whenever he went to sleep.  It could be an ancestral calling as his forebears had sailed the seven seas.  His business had grown out of all proportions and the Indian adventure had earned him respectability.  He had become one of the best young executives in his community.
Someone lent Homer a suit and he gave a talk in the local library about the importance of the sea.
“We used to have two large coasts filled with maritime treasures,” he said.  “We wanted to have a Mediterranean culture.”
“I love the sea,” he said with tears in his eyes.
Some people thought he remembered his country and wept.  The young man told them how he would make his ships the best in the world.  He finished and the audience applauded.
The newspapers spoke of the talented foreign businessman who travelled in the back of a truck to the nearest port.
Homer did not own big transatlantic ships at first.  His vessels had exotic names.  Atenas, Esparta and Las Termopilas.  The ships looked like proper fishing vessels but it turned out to be a deception.  Any fish they caught would be put all over the craft so that they would have the professional smell.  Homer also smelled of fish.  He caught the aroma from the fish shop near El Baratillo.
Homer didn’t like ships and never set foot in one of his own vessels.  They were not safe and defied death by immersion.  That’s how the doctors without a degree call death by drowning.
Homer’s boats didn’t go fishing.  He had good international relations because of the business with the heads.  The boats used to carry contraband along the river and it would be sold in his shop.
Homer lived the same way as before to show his real Spartan spirit.  He slept on a few boxes and drank his cup of tea with a bit of cheese on Sundays.  He woke up during the nights and barked.  He did it while walking around his room.  He acquired a lot of practice and sounded like a pedigree German shepherd.
Sometimes he used to forget to sweep his room and he punished himself.  He reduced the amount of tea in his cup.  It played havoc with his health and sometimes he nearly fainted.
He worked very hard.  He became his own boss, secretary, accountant and he had to do his own cleaning, cooking and guard the premises as a dog.
He felt ill and sometimes he wanted to buy a loaf of bread.   He thought that to be alarming.  He went to see a doctor that treated the poor destitute orphans and didn’t charge any money.  He could show he had been orphaned.
The doctor said that he suffered from bad nutrition.  He had to eat but food cost money and he couldn’t afford it.
He had to do something drastic.  He wrote a letter to the boss of Homer’s industries and asked for a substantial increase in wages.  He didn’t have an answer because he had to travel to the port that afternoon in one of his trucks full of merchandise.  He always travelled on the boxes.  He would admire the view and if it rained he could have a free shower.  If it turned to be sunny, he would absorb great quantities of free vitamin D.
He had good luck this time.  Somebody who travelled in the driver’s cabin had a dog.  The man bought lunch and gave Homer some of it to feed to the dog.  Our man ate everything.  He had not had such a nutritious lunch for some time.
He felt much better that afternoon and thought the doctor could be right.  That evening as he tried to sleep in the back of the truck he suffered an erection.  He could spend a few pesos in a prostitute but didn’t have any money.  Then he masturbated.
It could be cheaper than doing it with a woman, Homer thought as the sperm ran over the boxes.  Why didn’t he marry to himself? That way he could pay Homer more money.
Homer’s Industries answered in an unexpected way.  He thought of a long declaration of love for his employee and proposed marriage to himself.  He thought about it for a whole week but the hunger made him answer yes.
The ceremony was solemn given the circumstances.  One of his sailors brought two salted fish from the port and bread with cheese for his wedding party.  The recently married man went to the doctor complaining of stomach pain.
“You have to eat slowly at first,” the doctor said.
Our young executive’s situation improved after his marriage.  He ate fish, meat or even eggs three times a week.  He started to look healthy and masturbated often.
The years went past and he became very rich.  Taxes had also gone up in spite of all of the tricks he used.  With the money he paid for tax he could feed himself for ten years.
His brain started to work.  Up to now he had lived following the right path.  He said he would go to the jungle and everyone supported him.  Then he sent the heads to the US.  He noticed the marine richness and now his boats sold contraband.
The country went through a bad patch.  Every day men, women and children appeared dead and nobody cared.  Genocide became one of the national industries just as football and politics.
Widowers with a lot of children were numerous.  Why didn’t anybody help them?
Homer’s eyes filled with tears.  He thought he had another ingenious idea.  He cruised the poor parts of the city in his old bicycle.  He wanted to find land to build houses.  They would be called: “Poor Widow’s Housing.”
He found a cheap place to buy.  It lay in a low plain without any water, light or sewer.  The weather was good and he paid for some houses to be built.  Each unit had three rooms with a mud floor and without a toilet.
Journalists found about the new widow’s helper and Homer became more famous than Saint Francis of Assize.  The papers spoke of the five chalets destined to redeem the widows of the violence.
The bishop was a practical man.  He accepted Homer’s project after a few concessions.  He wanted to elect a young widow for a pastoral mission.  She couldn’t be older than twenty five years old.
He had some experience of public collections and wrote a letter to be read in the church for a few consecutive Sundays:
Dear children.
For a few years our flock has been invaded by the wolves the scriptures talk about.  It is the atheists and sinners who 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 major numbers every day.  Don’t forget than these atheists are the antichrists the scriptures talk about.  Hell can teach those truants a lesson they’ll never forget.
You have seen how our churches have been filled by orphans and poor widows who ask the heavens for retaliation.  Assassins without faith kill men, women and children.  You can’t compare such atrocities with what God did to the Egyptian children.  God is terrible and will punish the sinners.
That is why you must be afraid of his anger.  You must 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 decided to dedicate his life to help the widows and orphans of the violence.  We mustn’t let our angel alone.  We need the solidarity of God’s people to win over the darkness.  We want your charity to erase the most despicable sins against these poor people.
That is why I’m asking you to send money to our Episcopal palace.  You mustn’t think in material interests that won’t serve in our present life.  We must remember that this is only 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.
We must seek solidarity with Apostle Homer in his angelic functions.  You will have God’s blessing for every million pesos that you give.
His Highness
Pomponio
Bishop


The effect of his holiness letter became apparent.  Homer received many times the money he had spent in the houses in a few days even if the bishop kept more than half of it.  The bishop had to reprimand a few priests who wanted a percentage of the earnings.
All the local newspapers published editorials exalting the qualities of Apostle.  Homer.  He gazed at the distance in the pictures as if looking at God’s face instead of a million pesos.  Saint Theresa’s mystical breakdowns can give us an idea of our apostle’s face before the cameras and the television.
The citizens filled millions of petitions asking for social solidarity.  The governor with all of his cabinet marched to the Widow’s Houses and gave construction materials and money to Homer.
The Widow’s Soup was served in the most exclusive restaurant.  Colombia’s beauty queen, the region’s beauty queen, the queen of the potato, the yucca, the corn, the banana, the pea, the pumpkin, the yucca bread, the tamales, the guarapo, and a hundred beauties of the city’s districts, served the four thousand guests.
Each guest had a bowl filled with boiling water and a cold bread for the sum of one hundred thousand pesos.  The city’s rich people could be seen amongst the journalists and the television cameras.  They hoped that God would absolve their past sins and those still to come.
Homer read a few lines of the Old Testament and spoke for five minutes.  As he talked of the widow’s pain, his eyes filled with tears.  He had learned how to do that without much effort.
The band of the department interpreted the national anthem amidst the public’s ovation.
The beauty queens filed in front of Homer and kissed his hand.  They left it full of tears and saliva.  People in the restaurant sobbed.  Radio and television’s audiences cried.  The newspaper’s readers cried the next day and the poor widows wept.  Homer shed tears of happiness in his dilapidated room.  He had to be a genius.
He had never seen such a manifestation of solidarity.  He made enough cash to build a city filled with poor widows but he was the only person who needed the money.
Five more huts joined the others and some young and pretty widows who liked the bishop, went to live there.  Homer had never earned so much and so quickly.  The women got the new huts amidst publicity and Homer’s fame grew.  He became more popular than Sister Theresa and Saint Francis of Assisi.
The newspapers didn’t say anything when it rained hard and some widows and orphans drowned.  Their huts ended up covered with water.  Nobody paid for the burial and the wooden coffins were lowered into the ground without any ceremony.
The waters left and a few more young widows moved into the huts amidst praise for the apostle.
The widow’s business didn’t just give cash but it also generated great publicity.  It turned out to be very good for the taxes and the smuggled goods.
Homer presented himself to the deprived mothers and made them sign documents.  Most of them couldn’t read or didn’t want to know why they had to sign.
They wanted to thank the benefactor who gave them a roof over their heads and some food.  It wasn’t much but it wouldn’t let a rat die of hunger.
The papers the women signed left Homer out of reach of the income tax.  According to the certificates, Homer’s expenditure became far greater than his earnings.  He did all of this to sustain the poor women.
The widow’s food became one of the largest exports for our businessmen.  He imported every month tons of food.  The boxes had a cross on them.  It said in big red letters under it: Charity.  This food is for Colombia’s poor.  Look after it!
The boxes went past the customs without any problem.  Any delay could make the widow’s food get rotten.
Sometimes sacks full of wheat went through customs but most of the time they contained smuggled goods.  Sport cars went through customs with ‘frozen food,’ written on them.  If frozen food ever got sent in the packets it would be sold at high prices to Homer’s customers.
His ships kept on bringing Swiss watches, Scotch whisky, French Wines, tinned food from all over the world, televisions, videos, pants and bras and some other clothes.
Homer’s modest shop became a world bazaar.  You could find a Mercedes Benz or fine French pants.  Custom officials never wondered about so many expensive and rare things.  They couldn’t doubt Apostle Homer’s behaviour.  If they looked into his business the public would attack them.  They couldn’t bother someone as nice as Homer.  He gave them whisky, cigarettes and lighters.  Sometimes he gave them cheques of a few thousand pesos for Christmas.  He was a remarkable man.
The old ships: Athena, Sparta and The Termopilas had been replaced by three new and powerful ships: Odysseus, Ayax, Diogenes and Cyclops.  They were used for importing and exporting things.
Homer’s nights became more pleasurable.  Lying on his boxes that now had double rags, he passed his hunger induced insomnia counting and recounting the day’s earnings.  His food improved.  He drank a cup of tea with a portion of rotten cheese three times a week and had three suits bought in a used clothing sale.  He looked much better.
He rested from his barking for a few nights.  One of the widows gave him a dog.  It barked well but didn’t have Homer’s deep voice.
The animal had a bad habit: it ate.  Homer couldn’t train it to live without food and it died.
Our man started to walk around his property barking again.  He had become proficient in his job.  One of his neighbours paid two thousand pesos for Homer to bark in his patio for a while.  He accepted gladly the additional income and used the money to buy some meat.  His food improved even more.
He had a strong crisis at this time.  He felt in love with a girl for some reason.  How could it be?
He saw her an afternoon on his way to his room.  He felt a shock that ran down his spinal cord and ended in his genitals.
“What a woman,” he muttered.
He followed her along the streets and up to her home.  He didn’t know what to do.  He masturbated several times that evening, thinking of the girl.  He had to buy two extra eggs the next day in order to feel strong.
He felt a sensation all over his body but especially on his genitals.  He tried to think only of his business but waited for her in a corner.  He felt as if he had found a good contraband when he saw her coming.
“You’re as beautiful as a million pesos bill,” he said.
He looked pale.  It could be because he masturbated the day before or the million pesos bill.  Maybe the two things made him as pale as an anaemic flower.
Lola worked at a beauty shop and earned enough money to buy food and clothes for herself and her mother.  Lola’s body was perfectly made and any clothes she put on became superfluous.  If she dressed in rags, she would look better than any duchess.
She rounded her meagre wages, calming the amorous needs of a few sergeants.  They seemed to be her favourite dish.  She had seen Homer a few times in the television and her feminine intuition told her that he wasn’t a poor Franciscan.
She had loved a few members of that community and they weren’t poor.  She didn’t like the monotony and mixed sergeants with clerics.
Homer was a middle aged man who had few ships.  He didn’t look like superman but wasn’t Frankenstein either.  Add a few million pesos to all of this and any woman would fall in love.
“Can I walk you home?” he asked.
She could see how pale he had become.  She pretended to be shy and shook her head.  Homer’s legs felt like jelly and he couldn’t follow her anymore.
That night Homer couldn’t sleep.  How could a man of his quality fall for something that didn’t produce any money?  Every time he thought of the girl he barked in his neighbour’s patio.  That way he could go to sleep without much trouble.
Next day he had to travel on one of his trucks.  He thought about it.  What about if the driver stole something?  He could do that kind of thing often and waste the vehicle’s oil.  He could even bring his girlfriend.  How could he see Lola and look after the trucks at the same time?
Homer surprised himself as he waited on a corner for Lola to appear afterwards.  He should be behind the counter of El Baratillo or on the port, watching as his ships loaded or unloaded their merchandise.
The girl seemed to be late.  His hands sweated and he wanted to go to the toilet when she appeared in the corner.  As she moved towards him, she looked as beautiful as ever.
He checked his clothes and found them all right.  A friend had lent him the suit.  The trousers were a bit large but it would be fine if he kept his coat on.
“Miss,” he said.  “Can I walk with you?”
He had thought of this phrase for a long time and said it with elegance.
Lola blushed like a shy school girl.  “My mother doesn’t let me take anybody home.”
Homer shrugged and walked by her side for a few minutes.  She had a kind of spiritual quality that he loved.
“I work hard to pay the debts,” she said.  “I make dresses at home to earn extra money.”
Homer sighed.  “I’m also poor but work most of the time.  I have never been in love before.”
He felt madly in love with her.  It seemed to be love at first sight like they said in the soap operas.
“My mother can’t see you,” she said.  She smiled and went on her way.
The sergeant waited for her a few streets ahead.  He took her to the cinema.  Lola liked her new boyfriend and didn’t behave very well with the sergeant.  The man nearly broke his gun on her back.  It didn’t finish very well.  Lola had decided to keep the militaries and the Franciscans away from her.  She thought Homer could be more important.  She wanted to own a few ships.  She dreamed of rude sailors making love to her in a fishing tavern.  It smelled of whiskey and fish.
Homer thought he would go mad.  That night he barked aloud and the neighbours complained.  He could keep them awake the whole night.
Lola found out about Homer’s poverty a few hours later.  He didn’t like to spend any money and had a few million lice.  Our businessman had as much life on his body as he had money.  He only used water and soap for shaving himself and washing his hands.  Couldn’t she change him with her charms?
He didn’t like to spend any money but she liked doing that.  Her husband could work all day while she enjoyed life.
Next day she let him take her home.
“This is my mother,” Lola said.
The woman smiled and led him to the sofa.  She went to make a cup of tea while Homer sat next to Lola.
“I like your house,” Homer said.
Lola shrugged.  “It’s small but we are poor.”
Homer held her hand.  She smiled and kept her distance.  She knew that Homer had too much life in his body.
The woman sat on the other sofa as they drank their cup of tea.
“Do you live around here?” she asked Homer.
He nodded.  “I live in a hut with my dog.”
The woman looked at Lola.  She always found strange boyfriends.
“Would you like to have another cup of tea?” she asked.
Homer nodded.  He could sit next to Lola while drinking some tea.  He felt very lucky.  He left an hour later but it became too long for Fray Serapio who hid under the bed.  He acquired rheumatism that night.
Homer thought he had gone too far.  Next day he did something completely new.  He bought a new suit.  Then he bought soap and had a bath.  He had never done so many mad things on the same day.
Lola kept away all of her other lovers.  She went to work on her own.  She did shopping and even slept alone.  Chastity could be a good business sometimes.
You know where to start when you are in love but you don’t know where it will end.  Homer’s madness became worse.  He invited Lola to have an ice cream that afternoon.  The girl chose an inexpensive shop and had the cheapest ice cream.  Homer felt pleased.  Lola could become his business partner as she didn’t waste her money in colourful ice.  Homer has a glass of cold water.
He felt very excited that night and forgot to bark.  He lost a few thousand pesos.  The two employees at El Baratillo and his ship’s crews couldn’t believe the change in him.  They had never seen Homer clean and with no lice.  He travelled to the port only once a week and sat next to the driver.  He didn’t sleep on the boxes but at a hotel that charged a few hundred pesos per night and shared the room with someone else.  Everyone thought he had gone mad.
It didn’t end there.  He bought 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 would bring him good luck.  Homer had never done anything like that.
He gave Lola the coconut that evening.  She thought it wasn’t much but this was just the beginning.  She didn’t have the priests or the sergeant anymore and kept Homer at a distance.
He tried to kiss her but she stopped him.  Homer thought she wanted to keep her chastity but she didn’t believe the coconut was a good enough present.
Homer slept better now and could do his job as a guard dog.  The rest of the time he reproached himself.  Why had he spent so much money with the girl? What use did it have?
These questions kept on repeating themselves in his head like characters in a nightmare.  He couldn’t find an answer.  Why did he give her the coconut? He could have fed himself with it for the whole week and the inexperienced girl could eat in a day.  The ice cream had been just 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 would get a big water bill that month.  He had also spent money in the port’s hotel.  He had to be losing his mind.
He had learned to be afraid of mad people since he had been a child.  His mother had shown to him people eating, drinking and spending money.  She told him they were crazy.  He remembered a lot of horrible people.  They were fiends without form, infamous animals moving through the streets.  They were mad.
People who looked after their money were fat and healthy in stark contrast.  They were not crazy.  Homer didn’t look very healthy and could get worse.
In spite of all of this he still wanted Lola.  He missed her firm breasts and her sex appeal.  It was like a typhoon where his body floated like a shipwreck survivor.  He masturbated repeatedly and dreamed he lay in an immense mud lake where he could see bits of women and dollar bills.  He felt destroyed by sex, mud, sex, mud.
Next morning Homer felt terrible.  He tried to make his cup of tea but couldn’t get up from his boxes.  He fell on his rugs where his employees found him later.  He had hurt his face.
They wanted to take him to the doctor but he wouldn’t hear about it.
“No,” he said.  “I don’t want doctors.  “They charge a lot of money for nothing.  I only want a cup of tea.”
His employees collected some money and bought milk and brandy.  He felt much better.  Then he found out what he had and felt ill again.
One of his employees shrugged.  “You don’t have to pay for anything.  It’s a present.”
Homer opened his eyes and smiled.  The neighbours understood why he felt sick and sent meat and eggs soup to their dear dog.  The widows knew of his illness and sent him chicken soup.  They wished for him to get better and prayed for his recovery.
The man had not eaten so well in his entire life.  One of Lolas’ clerical friends found out about the neighbours and widow’s charities and told Fray Serapio.  The man had suffered lumbar pains because of Homer’s visit to Lola.  He told her that poor people had helped her greedy boyfriend.  What could she want with someone like that?
“I thought Homer was a good man,” Lola said.
Fray Serapio shook his head.  “He could have died of hunger if the poor people had not helped him.”

Lola felt angry. She went inside her house and phoned the sergeant.

“Can you take me home today?” She asked him.
The man sighed.  “You have your rich boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Suit yourself.”
The sergeant appeared as she left her job.  They walked down the road when Homer appeared.
“Hello,” Homer greeted.
The sergeant punched him and swept the street with Homer’s borrowed clothes.  He made Homer’s life more tragic.  His body felt sore and his clothes had been torn.
He tried to sleep on a sitting position on his boxes as his whole body hurt that evening.  He couldn’t bark and thought of the girl’s ungratefulness.
He had given her a bit of coconut and ice cream after all.  She had let the sergeant beat him up.  Perhaps all women were like that.
The widows sent him a nutritious breakfast the next morning and things looked better.  His friend came to collect the suit and endured the narrative of the harrowing moments when a bus had knocked Homer down.  He didn’t accept any money for the ruined suit.
Homer calmed down and spent a few days on his boxes.  He hated all women and their sergeants.  His longest working employee found a mattress next to Homer’s place of death.  Sorry, next to his place of living.  He repaired it a bit and took it to Homer’s room.
It looked better than the boxes and Homer liked it.  He dismissed his longest working employee the next day in case he wanted a salary increase.
He had already lost a lot of money.  He had not been able to bark and had not kept an eye on his workers.  They could have stolen his belongings.  He had lost a fortune in a few days without counting the coconut or Lola’s ice cream.
Bad things never come alone.  It rained that night.  Seven widows and eight children drowned in the widow’s houses.  One of the women had been the bishop’s favourite.  The egg soups stopped coming.
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 out of the Indian heads, the widow’s pain and the orphans.  Could the invasion of his dismembered country be another business?
He travelled to New York in one of his own ships.  They didn’t have a waiter and Homer took the job.  He could earn pesos and have food for a few days.
One of his friends in New York found a job for him in a bad restaurant and he rented a room for a few dollars.  He lived much better than above El Baratillo.
He made contact with a colony of people from his country.  They all felt angry for their land’s invasion even though it had been invaded many years before.
Homer became the revolution’s fire.  He would put his life in danger and lose his few ships before he let the enemy set feet in his country.
He felt democracy filling him from head to toe and didn’t speak of anything else.
“I abandoned my life in my second country to go to far away lands.  All for the price of love for my country and freedom,” he said to his friends.
They felt impressed.  He didn’t have a coat for winter and slept without a heater.  He didn’t mind leaving his bones here if it was good for his countrymen.
The gringos liked Homer.  They thought they could use him.  Perhaps they could use his ship to help his country’s soldiers.  It could be a dangerous thing.  Instead of dying shouting in New York, he would do it at the bottom of the sea.  The USA government would give him free arms.
All of Homer’s ships had been put at the war’s service.  He cancelled all of his businesses in Colombia including El Baratillo.  The Widow’s houses had disappeared under the water a few moths before and its inhabitants had all drowned.  Homer had become a warrior.
Odysseus would be his first ship to leave the port.  It was surrounded by absolute secrecy.  Homer would be a boat’s captain for the first time.  He used an enormous artificial moustache and looked like an old Turkish sailor.
He only needed the hat and one eye less to look like one of Sinbad’s friends.
He oversaw the workers as they put the things in his ship.  Machine guns arrived in boxes, 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.
He left New York in a misty morning.  The new sailor saw the contours of a new adventure in the horizon.  It could be much more productive than all of his past enterprises.
A few moths before, he had wore good clothes and started his life as a diplomat.  He obeyed his instinct and his manner had been softened.  He had acquired a psychological saturation comparable to Fouche’s or Nicholas Machiavelli’s.
In high sea the Odysseus changed its course.  Those who noticed such a thing thought Homer wanted to confuse the enemy’s submarines.
It didn’t have anything to do with submarines.  Homer had already sold everything at very good prices.  The heroic soldiers could wait for sometime.  A few South American governments couldn’t wait and needed the arms urgently.
The distinguished foreign gentleman reminded them of the legends of Visacocha.  An airplane had thrown him out of the clouds and he had offered the government a small arsenal.  It could be expensive but good for the circumstances.
The mysterious visitor wanted to bring democracy to all the lands.  He wanted to help the war effort.  He would be capable of taking the bleeding flag at any minute.
The governors, who had made the flag bleed for some time, accepted the offer to keep some of the earnings in their own bank accounts.
“We’ll be helping the country that way,” Homer said.  “We fight for democracy and make a few cents at the same time.”
The Odysseus left its precious cargo in the Caribbean while the storm went on in rest of the world.  They spoke of Homer’s heroic behaviour in New York.  They had lost trace of him.  It seemed as if the sea had taken him away forever.
He came back sunburnt and with bananas and dried caimans.  He brought a few messages from the anti Nazi warriors.  They thanked them for the arms and wanted to have some more of them.
A second expedition was organised with four of Homer’s ships who had shown a great ability to avoid enemy submarines.
He took more things than the first time. Thanks, bazookas, anti-tanks canons, machine guns and a lot of ammunition.  Two small aeroplanes completed the small arsenal.
The fleet sailed around the sea taking care of the enemy submarines.  Another South American country bigger and more powerful than the first one received the armament.  It declared Homer as its national hero.  The government kept the secret and its dignitaries became richer.
One of Homer’s boats sailed towards the Mediterranean Sea with a few old tanks.  It sunk and the sailors died.
Homer’s friends in New York were awestruck.  They prayed for Homer’s soul in Colombia.  He had become and hero and as the night neared its end his name was in everybody’s lips.
Homer heard the news in a tropical island.  Wearing a wig and false nose, he went to the nearest port.  He asked if anyone had survived the shipwreck.
“No,” they replied.
He paid for someone to leave him aboard a floating ring in the Mediterranean Sea.  It might be dangerous but worthy.
He spent six days and nights between the sky and the sea.  He had Coca-colas, caviar, brandy, good wines and a lot of cakes.  On the sixth day, he threw everything overboard.  The pilot radioed that he had found someone in a boat.
They didn’t come to him for three days.  Homer looked like a real shipwreck survivor when they found him.  The news went around the world.  Homer had been saved and his friends felt happy.
A famous journalist wrote a chronicle called: Alone between the sky and the sea.  It received the first prize in international journalism and the peace prize.
ALONE BETWEEN THE SKY AND THE SEA.
Cucu Fifi’s chronicle.  Winner of the journalism peace prize.


The air melted over the quiet mirror of the sea.  The bearded and almost naked men, whose eyes shone with a limitless resolution, knew where they had to go.

Men’s lives are like ships. They have a goal in life or they go around forever in the Sargasso Sea.

A few bearded heroes, who didn’t have anywhere to go, found their north but it really was to their east.  They couldn’t remain in the Sargasso Sea amidst the bits of ships.  They had to have a goal to justify their existence.
Sometimes we hear our inner voice, the call of the ancestors or the need to adopt a definitive goal with death as its limit.
Heroes are still born.  It seems that that singular example of human being will never cease to exist for the well being of humanity.  The Odysseus stopped any doubt about it.
It had been a small and beautiful boat.  Because of some mysterious premonition it had been called the same as the Greek hero.  As if it knew of its honourable end.  Real ships aspire to end at the bottom of the sea like in Neruda’s poem.
The sailors and the ship were only one thing.  An arrow sent by God against humanities enemies.  Their ears recognised the sound of the motors and the movement of the ship in the immensity of the sea.  It had become a hero’s shout caressing the water.
They had finished the longest journey in the turbulent Atlantic full of submarines.  Managing to arrive at the calmer Mediterranean, who after giving birth to civilisation had been menaced by man’s insanity.
Civilisation is the fruit of many years of evolution.  It can’t be lost because someone a long time ago decided to make Berlin as the Russian capital when everyone knows the Russian capital is Leningrad.
In such a radiant day, the heroes carried arms for their companions fighting in inhospitable mountains, turbulent rivers and bloody awakenings.  They preferred to fecundate the earth with the bones of their ancestors before making lamps with the skin of the victims of Treblinka.
In Homer’s mind appeared the foggy form of his far away country where he would leave the glorious effort of his resolution.  This thought made the men insensible to the water, hunger and hard work.
The colour of wine sea that Homer sang seemed to be destined to keep in its entrails that other contemporary Homer who never sang any epopees.  He had written them in his contemporary life with as much heroism as the old Greeks who had defied the danger of the unknown in their concave ships.
The modern Argonauts travelled here wishing to leave their sober existence in the cliffs where gold and freedom flowered
A torpedo’s furious explosion covered all of their dreams with flaming waves.  Before their eyes, the sea turned purple and the sky a big breath of fire that ate them with indifference.
Oh the hero’s life, it goes off!
Oh the tears we all pour!
Oh the mothers and lonely sons!
Its captain was there like a sign in the torment.  Homer, the omnipotent hero, fought against fire and death like a hard rock.
They saw him all over the ship, fighting, calming and comforting his crew.  His leaden soul didn’t suffer the attack of the waves and didn’t fracture with powerful explosion.  With infinite tension, he tried to save his men, his boat and the arms of liberty.
He didn’t remember how long he had stayed there.  When one of the sailors brought him back to reality, his ship was dying.  Most of the crew had gone away in the boats before the sinking ship took them under the water.
Then he saw the apocalyptic monster still smoking between the waves.  Deciding to finish with its enemies, the submarine shot them with its guns.
They were not alone.  Their intrepid captain would not let them be killed like pigs.  The small canon blasted the submarine.  It sank quickly but alas too late as everyone inside it had died.
Homer decided that he wanted to die with his boat.  He tried to dress himself with his best clothes but room had been flooded.  Waving his country flag, his burned lips intoned a song he had learned in his childhood.  Above the cadavers and bloody waves, a rough voice sang his country’s national hymn.
The Odiseo didn’t want to die, perhaps in solidarity with our hero.  As long as his heart could pump blood, the enemies of freedom would have a champion to fear and respect.
That idea turned up in our heroes mind.  His life had become a symbol for all of those who suffered under the boot of the tyrant, a hope for those fighting in the mountains, for poor women in concentration camps and for millions of slaves dying of hunger.
Homer spent a long time in between the smoky remains of his ship.  He waited for the ship to sink to the bottom of the sea but the Odiseo didn’t want to die yet.
The flight of a solitary airplane brought him back to life.  Life is passion and in this case freedom.
The sun looking like half an orange dived behind the clouds when our hero thinking in his country and freedom went in the small boat.  He swore vengeance for the soldiers’ blood, floating now in the dark sea.
Loneliness is the food of big souls.  The quality of a hero is measured by the ability to be on his own for an indefinite time.
Homer, a tiny toy of God’s element had found himself alone between land and sea.  He would be welcome in heavens for all the great work he had done.  That place appeared hostile now and burned him with its ardent rays.  He knows very well what the almighty wants: Life eternal required good souls purified by tears and hope.
None of us has experienced loneliness.  With characteristic hero’s modesty, he tried to give us a description of his suffering.
SEA, SHARK, WHALE, SEA, SEA, SEA, SEA, SUBMARINE, SEA, SHARK, SEA, SUN, HAMMER HEAD, SEA, SHARK!!!!!!!! HOMER!!!!!!!SHARK, SEA, SEA SNAKE, SEA, SUN, SEA, SEA, SEA WOLF, SEA SICKNESS, SEA SICKNESS, SEA, THIRST, THIRST, SUN, SUN, SEA SICKNESS, WAVE, WAVE, WAVE, WAVE, BIGGEST WAVE, WAVE, WAVE, SMALL WAVE.
He drew the small picture we have seen here.
Sea, the eternal sea surrounded it everywhere, until it disappeared in the horizon.  A shark moves around the small boat.  Trying to hit it with an oar, he only makes the monster angrier.  He doesn’t remember for how long he fought the shark but a barracuda also came to the boat’s side.
His clothes have been torn, exposing his body to the hot sun.  The shapes of his persecutors hide in the shadows of the night and he tries to sleep.
The sea turns into an enemy.  He has to tie himself to the boat so that he doesn’t go overboard.  He can’t sleep in peace for fear of capsizing.
He doesn’t remember when the sea quietened down.  Waking up later, he saw the sun high in the sky and felt very thirsty.  He didn’t see any sharks because a giant whale had eaten them.  The whale wanted to have the boat and its occupant for dessert.
Jumping overboard, Homer punched the monster’s nose.  Feeling afraid, the big fish went towards the North Pole.
WATER!!!!!!!!! WATER!!!!!!!!!
He had his feet inside the water.  It seemed to be a penance for big souls.  Out of the water emerged a submarine and Homer shouted: WATER!!!!!!!!
It happened to be a U225, commanded by tenant Fritz Wise.  As he found out the nationality of our hero, he gave him a piece of salted fish.  Doing the Nazi salute, he left Homer in the same place.
The salted fish dried his entrails and his stomach rumbled.  Very soon he floated in a sea of chit.
The vomit changed the quality of the sea as time went passed.
He stopped seeing the sea.  Someone had transported him aboard a high mountain and could just hear the noise of the sea.  The sun burned his skin while his entrails asked for water.
How long had he been there? No one knew.  After he heard the noise of the waves, he appeared again on the sea.  Then he realised what had happened.  He had been on the head of a giant dragon that threw fire out of its mouth.  The dragon had not noticed Homer’s presence and went to sleep at the bottom of the sea.
Homer prayed remembering his mother.  Having lost all his strength he remained on the boat’s floor.
He saw a light.  It shone in front of his face filling up wit sweetness.  A voice coming out of the earth said:”Homer, my son.”  Our hero replied.  “Who is calling me?”
“It’s your father who lives in heavens and will never abandon you!”
After a moment of silence even the sea went quiet.
“Heavens and earth will end but my words will go on.”
As the light disappeared, an angel brought him something to drink in a big amphora.  It tasted very nice even better the Coca-Cola.
He felt fortified the next morning.  He knew he had to win.  His life had been planned by God for higher purposes.  He felt sure of it.
When he went up the British anti-torpedo ship, Robin Hood, he looked thin but it seemed impossible he had been sixteen days without food and drink.
They all marvelled about it except Homer who remembered the amphora and the angel.
He’s amongst us again remembering that life without freedom and dignity is not worthy.
HURRAY TO FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!
HURRAY HOMER!!!!!!!!!!
HEALTH TO THE HERO!!!!!!!!
The journalist article of the writer Cucu Fifi was translated into all languages and dialects.  Homer’s image went around the globe becoming a symbol of heroism and decision.  He received a medal from the United States congress in a sober ceremony attended by the heads of many of the world’s democratic countries, three hundred thousand soldiers, nine hundred thousand students and a lot of wounded and veterans of the world wars.  Stalin declared him leader of Soviet workers and general De Gaulle kissed him repeatedly in the cheeks.
Homer’s heroic temperament didn’t get smaller.  Like all characters forged in the love of work and freedom, his love for freedom and hate of tyrants grew more.
Bigger ships sailed under his flag as arms were sold to poor countries in Latin America.
His creativity remained the same but his taste for clothes and manners had changed.  He wore the best Piccadilly Street clothes and had finished a few correspondence courses.
Like a true hero, he went around the tropics selling cheap autographs and smiles.  It served as an aperitif for future commercial transactions.
Love came to him in a torrent perhaps to compensate what he had not enjoyed before.  For some reason all beautiful women wanted to love him.  Then they had to become celebrities.
Millionaire husbands found it pleasing to tell their friends their wives had been

Homer’s lovers.

Loving Homer had become the best international high society presentation card.  As the world war ended, Homer had found the best way to enjoy freedom.

Dear Suzy:
The housekeeper went to the travel agency.  He wants to buy a ticket for anywhere in the world.  He is a good man.  He has tried very hard not to learn how to read and write.  It’s very good for a fifty year old.  You can’t find people like that every day.
This countryside environment makes me sick.  The bucolic poets (literally for the cows) came to life much after the invention of the cities.  On finding out how the cows and country people lived, the said they liked the air smelling of cow dung, the green fields, the overflowing rivers and bird song.
Reality is better than imagination but not in this case.  Cows are not very nice animals.  They look like an Italian actress before saying: yes.  When it comes to lactic matters Italian actresses can’t be compared with cows.  Bad tasting milk acquires cosmic dimensions in the lips of any Silvana.
The green fields are the natural living place of millions of ants.  That’s good but I’ve finished with a rush fit for a visit to a dermatologist.
I must itch while saying bad things about ants as the only remedy.  They are a sub product of nature an offence to dignity and defy human intelligence.  Apart from killing themselves with white phosphorus they like to work all day and night.  What an indignity!
They tell us ants represent the best in the animal kingdom while making fun of intelligent crickets.  They just sing and look for other crickets.
I have heard birds singing in Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony as the milking men radios produce incongruous noise all day and all night.  How terrible!
Let’s go back to the housekeeper.  He’s just gone to buy tickets for somewhere.
Where?
I don’t care.  We all think of travelling aboard a jet or a car but it doesn’t really matter.  We all travel inside ourselves.  It’s almost impossible to change the vehicle unless you have marihuana, LSD or aguardiente.  We run away from someone most of the time.  Perhaps we even hide from ourselves.
My case is a bit more complicated.  I want to run away but I wish to find myself.  I don’t care about the results.  Acquiring or leaving something can make us sad.  The middle position becomes much more interesting.  The moment we think we’ll get it.
I don’t care about anything else.  Human beings are really very similar to each other and trees are identical.
I don’t think you care where I go and you are right.  Nothing is more beautiful than instability.  Equilibrium is just a transitory position.
As I’m starting to get ob with the environment, I try to find a new stability.  A symbiosis is formed between beings and things.  We introduce the exterior world inside ourselves or we distribute ourselves amidst our surroundings.  This phenomenon can get stronger with other beings up to the point where we believe we depend on each other.  Lack of exercise might give mental rheumatism.
We depend on everyone else.  That’s one of the first things travellers discover.  It also shows us that life is not a question of geography.  We take happiness or sadness with us wherever we go.  You can be very happy in Leticia and unhappy in Paris.  A dip in the sea in Tumaco might be more interesting than the blue coast.
Something as personal as a sigh, music or perfume can make a difference with women.  You don’t know me and never will.  I don’t want to know you either.  I want to let you know I’m the opposite of everything we imagine.
Perhaps you don’t want to know, that’s why I’m telling you, I have never worked in my life.  Work is one of the most horrible thing humanity has.  I had already said that about the ants but it can be repeated.
I had the intelligence of being an only son of millionaires.  None other can do that feat.  They have offered several times the Boyaca cross and the industrial merit cross but I have rejected them.  As my noble ancestors worked hard in the land, it grew up to the size it has now.
It was due to the surrounding wire.  It could be move smoothly at the beginning but when the movement got noticed it couldn’t be put right.  Now I get bored while others work.  It’s a complete boredom.
Cancer or heart attack is not the twentieth century illness but boredom.  By some mystery gene, I hate canes, cows, calves and pure blood calves without any bones, round panelas, sugar, black beans, tractors and the agrarian people.  Once I grew some mantis but a helicopter killed them with DDT.
I grew schizophrenic papayas and they thought they were pineapples.  The world health organisation stopped me.  Then I grew Koch bacillus but winter damaged them.
Rivers without mother flood the countryside.  Damps become rivers’ jails.
The only thing I know how to do is not to do anything.  When humanity learns this small lesson there will be nothing else to do.
Because of the proximity of the trip or the hangover, it has made me philosophise like any cheap teacher.  It has happened from time to time and it’s one of my bad things.
Everything is reduced to a simple good bye.
“Bye, dear Sissy!”

It’s difficult to do it in the automobile as you will understand.  Try to forget me.  We might love each other again but I hope you find someone who likes children, a mortgage, orange juice, tricycles the rotaries and the lions.
I like pure and simple love without any maternity, priests, notaries, appendicitis, fine dogs and bad thoughts.
So long Linda!

Dear ZZa ZZa
I always say goodbye a few times to the women I have loved.  I can’t do it with every one so I have chosen the most beautiful and less authentic of all of them.  But is any one? I’m not genuine either and authenticity is a big word with good luck.
As you don’t understand Spanish, you will be many days with this letter under your brassiere like you did with the dollars I paid for your loving.  A Philippine sailor might translate it in exchange for a bit of sex.  Good.
That is your job according to our ever lasting exemplary western Christian society.  The stupid butler put me in an aeroplane whose name I couldn’t see and I felt as drunk as one of those cakes full of liquor or like Sarah Churchill.  One of those joys of the British Empire like Gibraltar and the Beatles.
I heard a rumble of four powerful motors under my bottom.  As I looked out of the window, I saw clouds under us.  Clouds usually float above and not under the ground.  Then I thought I had gone drunk inside the jet.
On trying to open the seat belt, I found a collar of flowers hanging from my neck.  The gringa sleeping in the next seat also had a similar collar.  Taking it off, I gave it back to her.  On lifting her head to put it round her neck, she sighed.
“Oh darling.”
Then she went to sleep again.
She had to have a healthy dream full of rugby and chewing gum.  Tumbling, I tried to go to the toilet.  I found myself in the fatty arms of a woman dressed in sort of swimming costume.  She also had a collar around her neck.  Remembering those films and the hula, I thought the plane flew to Hawaii.
The air hostess tried to explain that but I can’t understand any English.
“Yes,” I said.
After a few times answering, yes, I ran to the loo.  I nearly vomited on top of her.
Dear ZZa ZZa.  Your country should have been very beautiful a few hundred years ago when it was inhabited by dinosaurs and idiot pines.  It is as funny as any Broadway show now.
After arriving at the airport, I noticed that everything must be made to order.  They must bring the sand from some factory over the Hudson.  The trees, the sea and even the volcanoes seem to be taken out of a musical comedy.  Those good looking volcanoes throwing smoke every time a ship load of gringos arrive can’t be real.
Your smile, your dancing and your love have been sewn to your clothes just the same as the garlands of flowers.  Your love is similar to the plastic flowers.  You moan when the director rings the bell, faint on hearing two bells, and charge fifteen dollars by the third bell.
Your hotels are a marvel of Saxon ingenuity, in spite of you mongoloid ancestry, or are your eyes a product of plastic surgery? The prawns are delicious.  That’s why they bring them in tins from England.  I also liked the Dutch prawns.
I left with my Kodak camera and a collar of flowers to be conspicuous.  As I went past the hall, a few ladies talked aloud and looked at me.  As I looked at myself, making sure I had the flowers around the neck, I saw the cause of the problem.  I had forgotten my swimming trunks.  I felt ashamed and bowed to the ladies.  Then I ran back to my room.
The Kodak camera never worked.  I can get similar postcards all over the place.  One of them was in the Pan-American calendar, hanging in my student’s room.  This is when I went to your land, your beautiful Pacific paradise.  Now I want to see your landscapes in postcards
Yesterday I went to the beach, where I saw a fat ship.  I don’t know whether it was, Japanese, Chinese or Filipino.  I signed, showed them green dollars and had what I wanted.
We are leaving at this moment.  It has an immature siren.  That produces immature noises.  After I put this letter inside a bottle, I’m throwing it into the sea.  I’m sure that your sea.  Your clean and educated sea will take it to you.  If it isn’t so, the federal government will fine it until it is red and full of shame.  In the tourist guide that the major put in your suitcase, said: Pretend you’re lost at sea.  Write something and put it in a bottle.  The waters of our seas are the best postmen of love.
You must notify the chief of piece, and I love you till you hear the three bamboo bells.
Mario.

Senor Doctor Don
Salvador de Rocafuerte
COLOMBIA- Sur America

Dear and respected uncle.
I’ve been trying to write to you since leaving my country.  I’ve been busy with my business which has sent me into foreign lands.  I’m proud of the blood flowing through my veins.  It’s the same blood as yours but a bit more watery.
You must say that marching through foreign lands is nothing new, and I have caught a wonderful gonorrhea.  I understand you.  You’re such a gentleman.  I won’t get any gonorrhea now.  I promise you.  I’ve found Paleozoic fossils, I want to sell to the academy.  It’s a round business
I’m in an island without name.  I know it’s an island because it has water all around it.  Don’t think my boast has capsized and the last Roccafuerte has turned into a Robinson Crusoe, something impossible now.
I sailed in a fat ship without a flag or I didn’t see it.  I was in Hawaii when I was stung by the blood of my ancestors, the noble adventurers, with whom I slept many times as a child.
I see you making your best face of reproach.  I want you to send me dollars, but this time things are different.
I boarded a fat boat, in spite of being so small, it moved a lot.  The Captain drank Ron, similar to the combustible of an Atlas rocket.  It has a speed of forty kilometers a minute at take off.
I stayed on the moon for a few days and visited a few of the nearby planets.  Then I went on a comet coming to earth and fell on this island.  After the crew left me on the beach, I woke up covered in sea weed and with a terrible hangover.  The fat ship had disappeared, along with my dollars and rest of my money.  I was really a survivor in the middle of nothingness.
Remembering the orthodox books of Salgari, with my torn clothes and my swollen eyes, I stood up and shouted ………….Water!!!
I was all in vain as only the waves went PLOP! Plop! Plop! Water!!!! Water!!!
A turtle looked at me philosophically while a crab seemed to be annoyed at my shouting.  He signaled for me to be quiet and kept on digging out sand, as if it wanted to work as an excavator somewhere.
Someone had put an oven in my stomach.  I thought I had swallowed a meteorite as my feet sank in the sand.
I remembered your preaching, dear uncle.  Panic wouldn’t take me anywhere.  Because I had to go somewhere, I decided to walk.  After moving for a while, I arrived at the same spot.  The turtle and the crab were in exactly the same spot.  I thought it was an island, satisfied at my knowledge of geography.
The oven in my body seemed to be getting worse.  I felt my whole body burning, as if I fried arepas.  I thought I would die.  As I kissed the turtle, she blushed.
I remembered my catholic faith and searched for a stamp of the saints within my clothes.  I only found a picture of Brigitte Bardot within my wet clothes.  I kissed it and the turtle blushed again.  I lost myself into infinity like a laser ray.
When I came back to myself, if I have ever been there, someone fed me coconut water.  It tasted nearly as good as the aguardiente.
I don’t whether I’m in the same island or someone moved me somewhere else but it is inhabited by very sane people.  They made me work to earn my food.  They spend most of their time sleeping under coconut palms.
I’m investigating their language and way of life as I want to write a fat book about them.  Don’t you feel proud at being the uncle of a famous writer? I see you moving through the Colombia Avenue in Bogota, with your walking sting decorated in gold and used to belong to our grandfather the president, while everyone would be jealous.  That’s the uncle of the famous investigator of the South Seas.  When you go to the hot springs at Coconucos, the hotel administrator will say: look after Don Salvador, he’s Mario’s uncle, that famous investigator everyone knows.
Like I said before, I’ve found a pile of old bones.  I’m sure they must belong to the Paleozoic for reasons I’ll explain later.
The linguistic group seems to be the Indo-European Sanskrit, with a few explanations in Malay.  I’ll tell you all of this more slowly in a few volumes, if you want to.
You’ll tell me I’m going to ruin myself.  You’ll tell me the same usual things.  I have to regulate my expenditure and keep money for my old age.  I must marry Maria de la Piedad and settle down.  Perhaps you’re right, but what about my investigations?
Anyway dear aunt, send me a few dollars.  It can’t be less than two thousand.  It isn’t a big sum, if you speak in terms of panelas, bulls and cows.  I’ve discovered a new breed of cows, I: want to know if they’d be able to live in our mountains.
For the dollars to come to me, you must write in the envelope, next to the scribbles next to my signature.  They’re my new address.  You can use the same scribbles to write your letter, as I already know the answer.  Take life easy.  Look after your arteries and your rheumatism.  I’m investigating a medicine this people use.  It seems to be miraculous.
Your loving nephew
Mario

Dear cousin:
I don’t know how long I’ve been in this island.  I had never seen a real island and arrived here by pure luck.  I’ll tell you all about that if you ask my uncle to give me the dollars he promised.  I want my overseer to sell my bulls and convert that money into dollars.  He’ll get ten per cent of the profits as usual.
This is a real island.  I was thrown up by a flying saucer onto the beach, and I don’t know where I’m.  I’ve been all around the island and haven’t seen any gringos or Antioquenos, something really remarkable.  Sometimes a boat appears, it leaves meat and brandy in exchange for coconuts.  Although I can’t understand this people, I communicate with them by sign language.
I live with a group of people.  The girl of the family flirts with me.  I like her slanted eyes and smile.  She’s never used a deodorant and smells of prawns and coconuts.
The men don’t work by tradition, while the women look after the palms and love their husbands.
That’s why I married her after a short romance.  As I picked up some coconuts, she called me to one side by signs, while saying something in her sweet language.  I understood that she wanted us to have a bath, so I too her hands and led her into the sea.
As we played there like good children, the inhabitants of the island congregated on the beach and the sound of drums echoed around us.  I thought they must be preparing a cannibal banquet.  I told the girl by sign language to get off the sea.  She smiled and kept me by her side.

More people arrived at the beach while the drums went on. They brought a big saucepan to the beach. I started to tremble from head to toe or the opposite as I wasn’t sure where the head was. I was wet because of the seawater and no one saw how I urinated on myself. It had to be a cannibal ceremony. The saucepan seemed to have been made with my measures.

I never imagined that a man like me would end up in the stomach of unknown salvages.  I thought it most be better to be eaten by stupid salvages, than by even more stupid worms.  It’s all a question of dignity.  We are food for someone else.  We’re born, and look after ourselves, as the warms and bacteria look at us with pleasure.  We’re their favourite food.  They know we have to go into their stomach one day.  One day someone is going to have a revenge on them.
What if we take warming medicines and disinfect ourselves inside and out, until we’re sterile, and then we take an Apollo rocket to die in the cosmos? I imagine our eater’s face as our flesh goes round in space. And they can’t get it.  It would be a torture in the Tantalus, in a version specially prepared for the protozoan and bacteria.  In spite of these deep meditations, or perhaps because of them, I wetted myself.  As the drums went on, the people on the beach went into the sea.  The girl smiled while tightening my hands against her chest.
The drums went: Bum…Bum…Bum…Bum… We all moved towards the big saucepan on the beach.  It had acquired the serious characteristics of an exotic sarcophagus.
I happened to look at my legs and saw them much prettier than Sofia Loren’s.   I cried a couple of tears for each leg.  I divided them equally amongst the guests.  The fattest of the dancers would have my right hip, while the left one might be shared by two old men, who could hardly dance.  These were people of healthy customs, who wouldn’t need Alka-Seltzer to handle indigestion.
My testicles would be for Tawaty.  I thought that was the girl’s name.  I would give them to her myself.
Someone went to the saucepan and too a sip of the liquid with a coconut shell and I felt very happy.  It was a delicious wine.  The girl drank some of it and I also did.  After we drank a few coconut shells of wine, Tawaty and I danced along the beach and under the light of the stars.  Sometimes we went in the sea and the waves brought us down.
I awoke in her arms, in the same bed as her and in her house.  We didn’t go outside to gather any coconuts for a few days.  My parents in law, who were very civilised, fed us very well.  We never lacked any wine, and the ceremony in the sea had been my marriage.
I’m a married man now.  The girl is working as I write to you.  I’ll go later to the beach to drink wine.  It’s one of my favourite pastimes.
The language I thought to be Sanskrit, with bits of Malay and Indo-European, turned out to be simple English.  Don’t forget I’m a married man now.  Tell my uncle and my overseer to hurry.
Your cousin
Mario

Dear Tawaty
This is the first time I write to an ex-wife and I hope it’s the last one.  Up to a few days ago I loved you, and my eyes filled with tears just like the immense sea.  I feel angry today.  I don’t know what’s happened with our marriage, even if we were not blesses by priest, and our ceremony happened next to a saucepan filled with wine and rice.
In spite of you working during our light marriage, while I spent my time playing cards and drinking wine, and you never wore pantaloon stockings or used deodorant.  I still believe in free love.
When the island was invaded by gringos, as if a wind had vomited them on the beach, I wanted to flee.  I looked for my fat ship to shipwreck me somewhere else.  Coconut water is much better than Coca cola, and your wine can’t be compare with American whisky.  You used to live in a paradise without cinema, transistors and television.  You were on top of the world.
Humanity might have needed centuries of evolution to get to your state of development.  That’s culture and life, everything else is to die with chewing gum in your mouth.
That’s why I sailed with that Chinese boat.  My father in law gave me a letter in English plus one thousand dollars.  As my uncle had sent me some more dollars, I felt richer than the bank of England.  I can’t recall our farewell.  I think it’s much better.  The Chinese people treated me like a king, and this time we didn’t shipwreck.  It’s a pity because I was starting to like it.
I landed in the first inhabited beach I found, like any Jonas and headed for the first opium den.  I thought it was the last in its category in the region, a real discovery.
I don’t know how long I was there but it was a paradise.  Policemen found out about it and took me to prison.  Fortunately dollars have a universal appeal, otherwise your old husband would be building the road to Burma, or repairing the Chinese wall.  This hotel is much more comfortable than breaking stones in Tibet.
I saw you everyday in the opium dean, and you looked more beautiful than ever.  I don’t know why people don’t smoke opium every day.  I cried many times like I’ve already told you, but after paradise I found death, the death of that man who was there with you.  He must be rotten somewhere in the depths of the Pacific Ocean.  Your death and the death of everyone I left there.
The two things happened almost at the same time.  Someone in the hotel translated the letter your father had given me.  What an infamy! It was a letter from the Twentieth Century Fox, thanking me for my acting as an extra in the film Tawaty.                             My wages: one thousand dollars and all my expenses had been covered by the producers.
I had never married.  Your smiles and the ceremony with the big saucepan had all been paid by the twentieth Century Fox.  My dreams, your caresses and the fossils from the Palaeozoic had all been arranged specially for a Polynesian film.
I couldn’t believe it.  Then I saw your name in a cinema in front of my hotel.  It said Tawaty in big letters.
I couldn’t bear to see our film.  We were there in our island and in our hut.  I never imagined I had made such a face when the problem with the saucepan.  It had taken ten minutes filming and a whole life time of boredom.
I don’t know what your real name is.  The sweet and musical name I used for you must have been arranged by the technical director for the film.  The Palaeozoic fossils were made of plastic, while you must have been a mannequin made in the USA.
Fortunately you can’t understand Spanish and don’t know how much I hate you.  I hope you fall in love with a calculator and have ten children made of nylon.

I hate you

Mario

Dear cousin:
You’ll see by this letter that I never forget my family.  After a few sessions of alcohol, lsd and marihuana, I went to a spiritualist session.  You have to look at the program to see that only the Gods can do this kind of thing.
I went with two Filipino Gods, who speak a few languages but everything must be simple for gods.
I had forgotten to tell you that I divorced Tawaty, and left the island where I had found love between a saucepan and the Palaeozoic bones.  If you go to see a picture with that name and see me standing by a saucepan, I bed you to keep silence.  We, the gods, can make a few mistakes.  Ask Jupiter!
I can’t say how long it was.  That’s why my letters don’t have a date.  Perhaps is a time in the past, and without any existence.  Why do we have to worry? The future doesn’t exist.  Time doesn’t exist for us Gods.
It’s impossible for me to tell you of my trips aboard LSD.  I’d need to write a few volumes, and I think I don’t want to be a writer now.  We, Gods, never wish to do anything.  I can tell you that our marihuana is as bad as anyone else from my country.  The one we use here is grown with the milk of virgins and Mars’ semen.  To be a marihuana grower in these lands is like being a Lord in England or the Colombian president.  They’re functions inherited from parents to children, grandchildren and so on.  The intimate secrets are kept jealously as if it was the H bomb.
There are many types and subtypes in existence according with the client’s tastes.  You can cry the whole day without stopping if you want to, or you can be with the most beautiful girl in the world.  I sat inside a hole for eight days, marvelling at the marvellous things inside my belly bottom.  The Prado Museum is nothing in comparison with it.  You had never thought of it, didn’t you?
You must think what you can do with other people’s belly bottoms.  I can’t go on this way, because languages are all inefficient.
I can tell you something of the spiritualist session, because you were in it.  Do you think it is strange? I was in my five senses when this happened.
As the candles went off, the room was left in darkness.  The prayers prayed in many languages gave the room a funeral air.  I felt very cold and imagined that I was the dead one.
A figure went on light as if it had swallowed a neon tube.  My Filipino friend explained that it was not propaganda for some restaurant but the medium had started to light up.  I thought he needed batteries as he threw a defuse light.  He looked like a mandarin hanging from the door of a Shanghai’s restaurant.
Meanwhile the master of ceremonies sang or recited something.  It’s difficult to know anything in this language.  The medium didn’t move, in spite of a few flies playing football on his bald head.
They started to ask the ritual questions.  My friend explained how this ceremony is important to push away all of the spirit jokers, otherwise they’ll rub shoe polish on the spectator’s faces.
I made the most sensational discovery in the history of spiritualism and alchemy.  These spirits must belong to our street urchins.  They are the same even after they die.  They steal the aerials from the cars, men’s wallets, women’s pants, and the false teeth to the members of parliament.
The neon light started to talk interrupting the football game of the flies, as the counter showed two to one, in favour of the drosophila pendeginibus.
The cicerone wanted to catch the ectoplasm of U. Phong’s mother in law.  He was a wealthy merchant, who didn’t let the death woman alone, not even in her present state.
Something that looked like a fried egg appeared, illuminated by the feeble light.  U Phong and the rest of the people said: OOHHHHHHHHHHH! I was foreign and said: UUHHHHHHHHHHH! It was the ectoplasm of the mother in law.  I can’t understand these people.  Why had U. Phong married a chicken?
The merchant seemed to be satisfied with the demonstration while the frying egg drifted to his left, and people swore in Chinese and Malay. Some chickens must be polyglots.  I haven’t eaten any fried eggs since then.  They could have learnt to swear in Spanish and I don’t want that problem.
My cicerone nudged me in the ribs and I thought my compatriot urchins wanted to steal my wallet.  It was the signal for me, as the foreigner,  to ask a question to the mandarin.
I asked for Tawita, as deep inside me I’m really a romantic.  I had a devastating answer.  A brontosaur had eaten her.  I always thought it was plastic!
I sighed deeply, interrupting the fly’s football game as they were 2-2.  I asked for you to show that I remember my family.
“He’s a very happy man,” he said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Your uncle Salvador Roccafuerte is dead.”
I wasn’t just a widower, but I also was half orphan.  I didn’t sigh hard or I might interrupt the fly’s football game.  Well, you know where to write to me.  I hope my uncle’s inheritance has dissipated some of your melancholy, as he liked to save money.
I hug you
Mario
PD: I promise to take crying marihuana for nine nights in honour of the old man.

Dear Sussy
I’m going to tell you how it feels to go back to your own country.  I have been going around the world, I don’t know for how long.
“Colombia, I adore you in my mute silence.”
My silence was really mute because I had a bad liver.  I can’t speak much English but I knew I’d be coming home very soon.  My heart jumped in my chest as though I was in an Espresso Palmira in the way to Buenaventura.  It wasn’t the first time my liver had gone wrong, and it wouldn’t be the last one, I wanted to drink a double scotch with soda but the air hostess kept on bringing a cup of hot camomile.  I had turned into a camomile by the third time.  As I thought of my country, my heart jumped.
Before I could kill the Alsatian with my boy scout’s belt, a small man with a big nose and even bigger glasses appeared.  He explained that the woman was from Pennsylvania and gave her mouth to mouth artificial respiration.
The little man spoke Spanish very well and gave mouth to mouth respiration to the Pennsylvanian woman very well.  He also hated the water of camomile.  He was a tiger!!!
After drinking scotch a few times, I felt love for the girl and tried to give her mouth to mouth resuscitation.  He punched me in my right eye, leaving me in darkness for a while.
I took the opportunity of talking to my saviour.  He told me he was a Christian brother from Pennsylvania, Caldas.  He was coming back from the far east, that’s the way Christian brothers call it, without realising the far west is even further away, where he made the mistake of baptising a few Thai orphans.  That’s imperialism, I suppose.
As we talked, I saw the film of Tazan in the screen.  I had two choices, to watch Tarzan or the Pacific Ocean.  I watched Tarzan. It’s a boy that goes in between the branches, while Chita is a sophisticated girl.  I remembered the monkey my uncle Salvador had in the back of his insignia.  The insignia ended up with in deep yellow with penetrating tones.  After Tarzan let go of tree 1847, I fell asleep.
I Tarzan, I hit myself in the fifth space in between the ribs with my fist or was it the sixth? A shout came out of my mouth like the knife of a poor butcher.  The Zabomba people had stolen the Mubamba queen and I said caramba!
I left for the town of Chumba, in the deepest jungle, next to where Lumumba was born, climbing the first tree I found.  These Chumba girls are strong and useful, In explained to Chita as the woman took me through the intricate paths of the jungle.
“You can go through the branches now, Mr. Tarzan,” the girl said.  “The path stops here.”
I gave her an avocado pear as a tip and climbed the first tree I found.  Four hours later, I found myself in the same place because the branches had been cut with a Collins knife.  I couldn’t tie them back again.  The chicharras started to sing.  In the jungle it means siesta time.  The hotel was uncomfortable.  It didn’t have air conditioning and I had to sleep with Chita on my bed.  The mosquitoes didn’t let her sleep, until I said: “Quiet, Chita,” and she went to sleep under the net.
“Mr.Tarzan, Mr. Trazan, wake up,” someone said.
I remembered I was Tarzan, the king of the jungle, and had to get up everyday at four o’clock in the morning.  I wrote a letter renouncing to my job.  I gave it to Chita and went back to bed. The sounds of the drums woke me up at four o’clock in the afternoon.  Then I wrote a letter to Mubamba.
Queen Mubamba, Zabomba
I greet you
Dancing a cumbia
Kisses to Lumumba
I got onto the first tram I saw, wearing my bottom cloth of blond tiger and with a few dozen arrows.  Chita went by byclicle.  An exercise I recommend for her varicose veins.
The Zamomba people felt glad at the prospect of eating the queen.  She did look provocative.  Her body had been covered in oil and her curves shone under the light of the sun, making the guests feel hungry.  As soon as they noticed my presence, they prepared their land, air missiles.  I hit myself in the other side of the chest while shouting.  Lumumba looked at me with her beautiful dark eyes.
“Are you coming to save me, handsome one?” she asked.
“No,” I said.  “I’m coming to have a chest X-ray.  I must have broken come of my ribs.”
She smiled.  “You must have your amygdales seen by a doctor.  That last shout didn’t sound very good.”
Cazumba, the Zabumba queen appeared.  She gave me a plate with a fork and a coca cola.
“Tarzan,” Mabumba said.  “Do you know they’re going to eat me?”
I shrugged.  “I didn’t know.”
“Are you going to let that happen?”
“Of course not,” I said.
Holding the fork in my hand, I walked towards Cazumba.  (I realised I had left the arrows in the tram)
“How can you it such a beauty just like that?” I asked.
Cazumba shrugged.  “It isn’t just like that.  We’re preparing her on the stones before the big party.”
“That’s a different thing,” I said.
The orchestra of flutes and drums started to play a cumbia.  They poured aguardiente in our cups, while I danced with Mubamba.  Chita danced with Cazumba.
“Don’t you feel hungry Mr. Tarzan?” Cazumba asked.
“Let me danced two more songs,” I replied.
The stones were bright red.  First they made her lie on her back, and then on the front.  She looked golden like a toasted pig.
A woman with a black skirt woke me up at that moment to tell me that we had arrived.
“Thank you, madam,” I said,
In realised it was the Christian Brother, wearing a gown.
The moment to touch my motherland had come and my heat bit like a shepherd dog.  The Christian Brother arranged his bib and pulled up his skirt.  He wore a short gown with long black socks, held with a girdle.
As we landed, my eyes filled with tears because the ashes of my cigarette.  I wanted to do like the pope and kiss the floor of my birth country.  I thought it might be better to kiss the air hostess. As I remembered my painful eye, I kissed the Christian Brother instead.
One is aware of the arrival at Colombia because everyone looks at you with the air of correctional guard.  You breathe prison air.
Only seventeen people got out of the airplane.  I stood in the queue as number fifteen.  I felt thirsty but couldn’t get in contact with the outside world.  Uniformed police looked at us with a serious face.  I wanted to sit down but couldn’t see chairs anywhere.  The queue didn’t move as the policemen looked at us with stern faces.
A guard, who looked half asleep, appeared an hour and a half later.  He sat at the table and started to write things.  Half an hour later, two more guards came in and chatted with the first one.  A woman sat on the floor and the policemen bit her up with the end of their rifles.
Two and a half hours later, we started to file through the nothing to declare place.  They checked papers, wrote down names and looked into each suitcase.  They checked male and female passengers into their most intimate places.  They made the threat of deportation.  Fortunately no one understood much Spanish, apart from the Christian Brother and me, otherwise they would have swam back home.
An old man and four women had fainted.  Their bodies had been pushed to the corner.  As they checked them, they took out their clothes.  They had to stay naked because their clothes had been illegally brought inside the country.
I couldn’t stand up anymore.  Holding onto the counter, I rested first my right leg and then the left one.  A policeman thought I tried to hide merchandise.  He made me kneel for half an hour, after taking my shoes away.  I can’t deny how ggo the employees were.  We had been there for seven hours and only five people had left the room.  The old man had died two hours ago.  Nobody bothered to keep the rats away.  His mouth looked dried and his eyes were clouded.
A guard felt sorry for us.  He brought us coca colas at one dollar each one.  We thanked him very much and paid him his money.  The guards smiled and gestured to the floor.
“Five dollars,” one of them said.
We paid him and lay don on the floor.  It was hard but I thought it was the softest mattress in the whole world.  It was cheap and gave him five dollars extra.  There is nothing like my own land, I thought.
Twenty dollars more and I had an aguardiente with green mango.  I felt much stronger and thanked my compatriots.  They had to be human beings.
Eleven hours after landing I arrived at the counter.  They took all of my clothes away as they were not allowed in the country.
Then came the personal inspection.  They left me naked for the same reason.  The examined my mouth and looked inside my rectum.

Half an hour later came the verdict. I go away naked, unless I wanted to pay some money.

“How much do you want?” I asked.
He shrugged.  “One hundred and twenty dollars and eleven pence.”
Fortunately they accepted traveller cheques as my dollars had disappeared.  They didn’t give me a receipt as it was forbidden by the law.
They gave me back my clothes and I could finally enter my very much loved country
I forgot all of this because I was so happy to be back in my own land.  I left the building and breathed deeply until my alveolus had been filled with air.  Fortunately the Marihuana I had brought for my cousin had not been touched.  It was in a big packet with the words: marihuana, written over it.
Nobody waited for me.  How strange, because I had not told anyone I was coming.  I took a taxi.
Five minutes later. We were stopped.  Guards checked me over.  I paid them thirty dollars and they let us go.  The marihuana was safe.
Twenty kilometres later, we came onto some other guards.  They made me take my clothes off.  I had to pay twenty dollars.
Ten kilometres and ten dollars and I managed to arrive.  UUUUUUUUFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!
I think I have come back.  I hid in the car boot for the last kilometres of my journey.
That made everything easier.  As policemen opened the door and looked at me, the driver smiled and said:  “It’s a kidnapping.”
The policemen laughed and motioned for us to go on our way.  I didn’t need to take my clothes off.
I hope to see you soon, so that you can try the marihuana I brought for my cousin.  I don’t think he will like it but you and I can take a few fantastic trips.
I love you.
Mario
P.D. Someone told me that you’ve gone to Barranquilla with a travel agent.  It’s better as this letter was getting too long.

Mulan, Mochow and Siyun.
Can you remember the smoking den: The Rose Almizclena.  Perhaps you don’t remember it because I don’t think we have been there.  Was it, Snowy Rosa? We must have been there.  I think we formed a beautiful trinity.  We were four people, but none in reality.
Mula, Mochow and Suyu, were like three yellow lilies, losing the leaves in between the fog of the marihuana.   We breathed hot Ron and ate uncooked fish.  The scales shone on your forehead, Mulan.  You seemed to be a priestess of the temple of the Emperor of Jade up there in the top of Taishman.
Mochow and Syun standing by the south door of the sky and shouting: Down with the rich people’s gold!
We played manjod, sometimes poker, but we always played making love.  We loved each other and everybody else, even the one eyed cabin boy, who had a mark all along his left cheek.  How long did we look at his tattoos for? How long did I look at your feet, Monchow? Your tiny feet were incapable of sustaining a thought.
We never thought of anything, we only felt.  We felt lots of nostalgia coming through our skin, while I drank elephant milk from you erect teats, Suyun.
We moved through the path of bamboos as a fat Buda looked at us, after a while he stared at his own ugly bellybutton.  Sometim4es I smell your perfume and sail through your eyes with the same broken compass that never worked.
A hundred sun shone on my day and the river of my melancholy ran and ran.  Let me drive your night in between your days, Mujan, my love.  We’ll have a meeting with our dim constellations of sad stars, tired of being suns.
I’m sad, Mulan.  I have the right to be sad.  It’s not because my uncle has been killed.  I’m tied to the land and have to breathe its putrid atmosphere.
My uncle Salvador died of a natural death.  He was kidnapped.  He had to check his lands.  The poor man wasn’t very clever, something indispensable to own sugar plantations.  He made lots of money with the labour of others.  They had given him the cross of Boyaca, the one of the industrial merit and he belonged to the order of Malta.
He used to get up everyday at five o’clock in the morning.  None of my clocks mark such a terrible hour.  Clocks have many missding hours.  Five o’clock in the morning is only good for making love and for a few stupid singing birds, who go: PIIOO! Aren’t they silly?
A few people wanted to kidnap him to ask for a few million dollars for his rescue.  He had detectives and policemen at his service.  Salvador had to go to his far fields, because he had to look after his money.  He had to look after his cents as the pesos would look after themselves.  In this case the millions looked after themselves.
He had to looks after the channels because the technical people cared for the expensive machines, and in a remote field on his farm, he was kidnapped and killed by mistake.  That is how no one won four million pesos.  I inherited most of them, while the rest of the money went to a few more good for nothings in the family.
Since I was a little boy I didn’t like money.  That’s why they keep on chasing me.  I’ve been trying the transform my bills into life.  Each time I live less and have more money.  Do you know why that happens, Mulan?
You are only life and can’t understand the situation.  Fortunately you have never smelled the breath of a notary of your stomach would turn.  If you looked inside their drawers, you’d see their papers smelling of moss and urine.
Because of those spotted papers I receive many millions of pesos.  I see men working sun to sun with their backs hunched in front of the Holstein cows.  They talk of human dignity, but pedigree cows are above that.
That poor man doesn’t earn enough money in all his life to have that kind of animal.  He works and works but I see him more pale and yellow like the notary papers.
I earn fabulous sums, without moving from here and by the virtue of the yellow papers.  I don’t understand much about cows.  I just understand where then petrol goes, but I don’t know where the gear is.  By virtue of some strange code, the cows produce rivers of money.
I haven’t done this but it smells bad.  My uncle was the clever one in the family.  He seemed to have been very lucid.  He gave me an idea and I want to put it into practice.
Bye
Mario

EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT We see the top part of a luxurious yacht. The seats, the floor and the floor 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 half lit top of the ship, we see a seagull, sleeping on the mastiff. The seagull opens his left eye. That’s the one he shows to the public.

SEAGULL
Caramba, 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 right door. She has platinum blond hair, electric blue gales 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 comes out of all her holes in her dress. She sighs deeply and her forty plus bras seems in danger of blowing up.

PATRICIA
Alone between the sky and sea!

As she sighs, she defies the stability of her bra.

PATRICIA
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.

Patricia looks at the seagull.

PATRICIA
Poor bird, are you cold?
SEAGULL

The night is a bit fresh.  Do you happen to have a sinogan?

PATRICIA
What is it?

SEAGULL
It’s a sleeping tablet.

PATRICIA

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.

PATRICIA
Homer, my darling.

She kisses him.

HOMER
What is my blond angel doing here, all alone?
PATRICIA
My captain, I asked this little bird who was the greatest sailor in the world.
HOMER
I’d become 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.
PATRICIA
We must think on hiding ourselves for the moment.
HOMER
Unfortunately.  Generals are usually very nice.
PATRICIA
I know that 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.
PATRICIA
I do believe you’re a dog.
HOMER
I feel like a school boy in love.
SEAGULL
I also see that soap opera.
PATRICIA
This is our last night.  We’ll be far from each other by tomorrow.
HOMER
We’ll be on our own now, if the general let us be alone.
PATRICIA
The general sleeps as deeply as a first line trench.  Nothing wakes him up.
HOMER
He’s like an antitank ditch.
SEAGULL
This general must have 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’ve arrived a bit early.  I was praying and
talking to my God, like I’ve done since I took my vows.

Patricia and Homer kneel down on the floor.

PATRICIA AND HOMER (In unison)
Your highness.

The cardinal blesses them as he recites 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
Thank you, your highness.  I want to thank you for visiting my modest ship.
CARDINAL
You’re the modest one.
PATRICIA
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
Aurita arrived yet?
PATRICIA
She has been delayed because the admiral felt seasick today.
HOMER
She should be here soon.  We can try a glass of wine I have ready for the occasion
while we wait.
CARDINAL
Homer is a prince.  God must bless him in all of his businesses.
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.  You must understand that they have a patriotic quality.
PATRICIA
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 your fight for freedom, and of the long days
you spent in a boat in the middle of the Atlantic.
PATRICIA
We have all read between the sky and the sea.
HOMER
I did what anyone else would have done.
PATRICIA
It’s hard to notice the glory of great men.
SEAGULL
The smallest ship that man knows is the Queen Elizabeth II.

CUT TO EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT A few sailors put some bottles, buckets with ice and jars with flowers on a table.

CARDINAL
I wonder what has happened to Aurita.
PATRICIA
Love is beautiful.
HOMER
It’s the substance of life.

The cardinal breathes deeply.

CARDINAL
I’m in love.
PATRICIA
They’re in love 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 very good looking man when you
were younger.
CARDINAL
I’ve loved God and my fellow human beings all of my life.
HOMER
God always protects his apostles.
CARDINAL

I’ve been serving eternity all of my life.  It’s not a bad thing to have my own
pleasures.

CUT TO EXT YATCH-EVENING 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 PATRICIA (In unison)
Thank you.

They all drink.

SEAGULL
This is going to be a long party.  I’m glad I didn’t take the sinogin.

CUT TO EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT A beautiful tanned girl appears. She wears a long black dress. It opens at its sides up to the hips, showing her light pink pants. Measurements: 8-31- 82 She has her hair with the style of Cleopatra before she met Mark Anthony. Her eyes are intense 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 approaches the cardinal and kisses him.

HOMER
That’s love.
PATRICIA
How beautiful, how about us?

Patricia and Homer kiss each other. CUT TO EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT The girls are sitting on the men’s laps.

SEAGULL
What are these people doing?

The cardinal offers Aurelita 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 to my saint.
CARDINAL
I seem to be drinking your delicious blood.
AURITA
You don’t want to be a vampire.

The cardinal caresses the embroidery in Aurelita’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 for me later.
AURITA
I’m yours.
SEAGULL
The woman wearing the red skirt wants to eat the other one.

The commandant appears. He’s wearing his uniform and 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 goes past the women and kneels in front of the cardinal.

ADMIRAL
Good evening.

The cardinal blesses him.

CARDINAL
God has taken pity on your soul.
The Admiral stands up.  He hugs Homer, greets Patricia and kissed Aurita.
AURITA
How is my sea wolf?
ADMIRAL
I’m a bit seasick.  I might get better later.

Homer gives him a large glass of wine.

HOMER
My dear Admiral, you’ll be all right after taking this medicine.
PATRICIA
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.
PATRICIA
It’s romantic.
SEAGULL
Having four moons must be good for a good sleep.

As Homer motions with his hands, music drifts around the ship. The Admiral has finished with his drink.

ADMIRAL
This wine seems to be a woman’s milk.
CARDINAL
It should be the opposite.  The milk of a woman should taste like this wine.  You
must realise how much power milk has over nature.  When God left us his blood
he never thought in milk or water.
AURITA
I believe this saint man really talks to God.

The 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 all of this example of sacrifice.

Homer fills up their 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.
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!
PATRICIA
We’ve been together through good and bad things.  I’ll be with you whatever
happens.

They all seem to be affected by Patricia’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 of 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
regular and all of the army backs us.
ADMIRAL
We all back our general unconditionally.
CARDINAL
We also back him spiritually altogether with the church, which has much better
arms than canons.  We have one or two tanks, of course.
GENERAL

With powerful arms, organisation and God’s blessing, we are invincible.

CARDINAL
We have to tumble these idiots.  I haven’t been able to change my few Cadillac for
the last two years.
PATRICIA
Two years?
HOMER
Two years?
CARDINAL
They’re just not atheist but also ungrateful.  I help them with their coup and have
only a chalet by the beach

AURITA
Imbeciles.


HOMER
It’s terrible for a prince of the church, in such a state.

GENERAL
We’ll erase all of this tomorrow.  My government recognises religion as the basic
pillar of society.  His highness will receive the treatment corresponding to his
hierarchy.
EVERYBODY
Hurrah to our new president.  Hurrah!
PATRICIA
Your highness, in the last times religion has gone down the drain.  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 without reference,
Adam and Eve without an apple and snake, Jesus Christ trying to pass a driving
test.
CARDINAL
That’s why we need good governments, like the one formed by tomorrow’s cue, to
take the reigns of our country.  They must proliferate all over the world.  I hope the
general doesn’t forget all of my needs.
GENERAL
You’ll have your new chalet.
CARDINAL
You’ll have my blessings.
GENERAL
Thank you, your highness.
CARDINAL
I’m at your orders, Your Excellency.
AURITA
He’ll have his new Cadillac.
GENERAL
Of course.
SEAGULL
I feel 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 stop talking
rubbish and 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.
GENERAL
I want to buy two submarines from Homer.
HOMER
I expected that of someone with your intelligence.  I have very good ones for you.
PATRICIA
Why are they good?
GENERAL
We can show them in the parades.
ADMIRAL
Well, sometimes we use them in manoeuvres.
HOMER
My submarines must be protected against humidity.
ADMIRAL
I think it’s very good.  Sea water finishes with everything.
GENERAL
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.
PATRICIA
I want hot music.

Homer exists 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 Patricia. The general and the admiral dance with each other. The cardinal falls down on the floor. Everybody rushes to his help. Homer helps him to the nearest chair and offers him some wine.

CARDINAL
I can’t cope with this modern music. In my times, we dance minuet and bolero.

He touches his head.

CARDINAL
Where is my crown?

Everyone looks for his crown. Patricia finds it under the table. He puts it back on his head while crossing himself. The tune of a romantic bolero drifts about the place. Aurita lifts the cardinal. He dances with the girl while limping. He gets as close to her as his abdomen will allow him. Homer and Patricia move faster and hide behind a corner. The militaries drink and talk about their plans. CUT TO EXT. CORNER IN LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT

HOMER
You’ll be a queen after tomorrow.
PATRICIA
And you’ll be my prince.
HOMER
That will be the general.
PATRICIA
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 YATCH- NIGHT

CARDINAL
Homer knows about strategies.  Look where he has taken Patricia.
AURITA
Let’s do like them.

His highness limps with Aurita to another corner, where they kiss each other. CUT TO EXT. DANCING FLOOR IN LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT Homer and Aurita dance with the tune of a bolero. EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT

GENERAL
The destroyer will be ready tomorrow then…
ADMIRAL
Everything is ready.  These people won’t survive.
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 don’t want to spill too much blood, only enough for out coup.
ADMIRAL
Good.
GENERAL
You must be ready to take over the ministry of war, my dear admiral.
ADMIRAL
I’m overwhelmed at your generosity.
GENERAL
We have to sign Omer’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
We can present them in front of everybody: the first lady, the woman minister.  We
have to give them beautiful decoration.
ADMIRAL
We’ll honour the wives of the neighbouring presidents and their ministers.
GENERAL
It’s indispensable for the receptions of 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.
CARDINAL
You’re very kind.

The sailors bring some food and more wine.

HOMER
I’m honoured to dance with the first lady.
PATRICIA
We know that your yacht is visited by people of high society.
GENERAL
Real queens have been here.
HOMER
I’ve never had the honour of having someone like you.
CARDINAL
The pope has been here on holydays.
HOMER
I’ve always had more than I’m worthy.
ADMIRAL
The Aga Khan has also been here.
AURITA
And Miss Universe.
CARDINAL
And the Lay Lama.
HOMER
I’ve had the friendship of many important people n the world but tonight I have fulfilled my aspirations.
GENERAL
Thank you very much, Homer.  I’ll never forget it.

They stand up and drink in Homer’s honour. More bottles of wine arrives as the music of a ranchera drifts about. CUT TO EXT. DANCE FLOO IN SHIP- NIGHT The couples are dancing. 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.

They talk and shout as Aurita and the cardinal talk to each other. Patricia and Homer talk quietly. The general dances with the admiral. The militaries go back to the table while the others dance. CUT TO EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT

GENERAL
We need a lot of wine to calm our nerves.
ADMIRAL
We’re in definitive moments of our life.
GENERAL
We need a bit more of 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.  They leave us two hundred vacancies to fill them up with our
friends.
ADMIRAL
We must name 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 music comes to an end.
HOMER
My distinguished guests, now that we’re in this spirit of political solidarity, you
must sign my cheques.
GENERAL
I consider this to be the principal 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 another table covered with a green cloth. It is full of papers, pens, typewriters and calculators in a few minutes. An old man without 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 (Speech)
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 to save my
country from the chains.  I’m prepared to offer my life for my people.

Pause and people applaud.

GENERAL

We need faith and dignity, greatness and altruism to save our country, to give our
people peace, justice and bread.

Another pause and people 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 all cry, applaud and drink wine.

GENERAL
Dawn will find us in the trenches defending our country, who told us love from our
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
I invite you to follow me comrades.  If I go back, kill me.  If I die, look for
revenge.

They all hug the general. Patricia 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.

People 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.

People 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.

Everyone kneels on the floor, including the seagull. The cardinal prays in Latin while pouring holy water over everybody. The seagull doesn’t like it and goes back to the food. They all congratulate his highness.

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 that show 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
The pens we have used in the ceremony are jewels, and I want to offer them to our
ladies.

He gives one to Patricia, 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, general, admiral, protector and father of our country, the
cardinal, ladies and gentlemen:  I want to say a few words in this sublime act,
where 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 for talking about virgins.
ADMIRAL
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, turned 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 noted of the symphony of America.
Atahualpa and Gaspar joining their titanic forces over mountains full of snow,
wrote the last page of the Inca culture…

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 goes through the door. CUT TO EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP –NIGHT The music of rancheras drifts through the ship.

MUSIC
The day I die, it will be by four gun shots…
ADMIRAL
…When the warrior talent of Pizarro met the idolatrous Indians, celestial fire took
the last Inca in front of his first cause.  He…


MUSIC
He didn’t have time to go on his horse…
CARDINAL
My love, can we escape while the admiral remembers our country?

They go out of the door.

ADMIRAL
Loyalty to the institutions is one of the duties of a patriot.

The general after drinking some more wine decides to dance with the seagull.

HOMER
His highness stole Aurita.
PATRICIA

It’s very natural. Her husband’s mind is in Cusco now.

ADMIRAL
….And then the Incas, suffered in rivers of blood…
GENERAL
What’s your opinion of the miniskirt?
ADMIRAL
…From the Orinoco, the water is full of remains…
MUSIC
I’m drinking like a madman…


HOMER
Our general of four suns hasn’t had much sun.
PATRICIA
We must give him the drug to make him go to sleep.
HOMER
Then I can sleep like a real angel.

CUT TO The general is dancing with the seagull.

GENERAL
Do you like the music?
SEAGULL
I prefer rock music.
ADMIRAL
…And then genius of freedom grew like a tropical plant.  One of those creepers
climbing forever towards the light, without looking at its own witnesses, because it
counts with 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
…The centaurs of freedom broke their arrows on the armours of the sons of El
Cid…

They all drink and eat.

GENERAL
Our admiral is still talking.  I’m taking 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…
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
Another glass of wine, general?

Homer pours a powder in the wine. The general drinks the wine with the strong mixture of medicine.

EVERYBODY
Hurrah to the admiral!
ADMIRAL
…And then the fecund rivers of the dark women gave birth to heroes, who
multiplied themselves just as his children…
HOMER
I’ve given him the whole solution.  We’ll have the rest of the night to ourselves.
PATRICIA
When will the admiral end?

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
It seems my husband is arriving.

The seagull flies away without saying goodbye. He crashes against some of the mastiffs. After drinking his wine, the general goes to sleep on the table. He snores with the peculiar sound of the heroes.

ADMIRAL
…That is why we must shout once more: Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! I’ve
spoken.

They all applaud while the admiral drinks his wine.

CARDINAL
We must go to sleep, my sons.  I have to get up early tomorrow for the mass.
ADMIRAL
Of course.

Homer calls the sailors.

HOMER
Take the general to his cabin and help him to get undressed.

To the penal judge

I, Mario X, with identity card number 6, 475,890 from the city of Palmira, and under oath, I declare that everything down below is absolutely true, and must be taken into account for anything needed.
Judge, for reasons I don’t want to explain or I can’t explain, one day I decided to look for the lower parts of the city.  Cities in general have low parts.  It means that they must have high parts and those ones in the middle.
Many of the parts I visited were low but some of them were up.  I don’t want to discuss architecture here, so let’s leave them in their place.
Faces in the low parts don’t look different from those in the high places.  My face doesn’t seem to have a definite position and seems to be good for everything, even for me to wear it.
That’s why I got dressed in my best clothes and used my best gloves and an English umbrella.  It cost a lot of money to my uncle Salvador.  Driving my Mercedes Benz, I went to the worst place in this city.  It isn’t hard to find it.  You move down a few streets and there you are, in the most infected place.
I also wore in addition to my suit, a golden watch, chain encrusted with diamonds.  I had only four million pesos in my wallet.
As I went in the bar: the fried chicken, I don’t know exactly what happened.
I woke up naked.  I had a pain in my head, something I had not had since studying algebra in the school.  It had to be night time because it was dark.  Then I discovered it was day time but I had been dumped inside the sewer.
Socorro, I shouted.  Socorro.
A voice answered me from the outside.  Socorro is in the corner, I’ll call her now.  A while later someone called help arrived.
What do you want? She asked.
I want you to get me out of here, man, I said.  You’re confused, she said.  I’m a woman.
I’m hurt, I said.
Why the hell didn’t you go into a hospital instead of the sewer?

. I’m dying, I shouted.

Socorro grunted.  You can’t die here.  This is a respectable place.
As she put the lid up, she saw me naked.  She crossed herself and ran away.  I had pain all over my body.  She came back later with one of her dresses.  It was a red dress with yellow flowers.
Put this on, she said.
But Madam, I said.  I have my dignity to consider.
If you don’t wear this dress, I’ll shut the lid again.
The dress was a big wide in the chest while the hem went up my knees.  The mini skirt was on fashion so it couldn’t be that bad.    I thought to give myself strength.
Once I came out, Socorro lent me her shoes and I looked more feminine.
Please call me a cab, I said.
People looked at me in a strange way and a man held my leg.  The driver who took me back home looked at me while smiling.  I tried to explain what had happened but he wouldn’t understand.
Don’t worry, he said.  Men are like that now.
My male housekeeper liked my mini skirt.  If you like that, Mr. Mario, you should wear more decent clothes.  They all bathed me and applied raw meat to the bruises all around my body.
You would say it was my fault, dear judge.  I wanted to be in contact with a group of kidnappers.  Why?
My uncle Salvador left in his will two million pesos for Christ, can you believe that?
Christ has heaven and hell and the stars.  He also owns a temple of many millions plus diamonds, emeralds and other precious stones, and why?
Christ is only a bit of wood.  So why don’t we give all of that money to a human being?
People have never been as beautiful as trees.  They’re far better than a piece of painted wood.
I decided to be kidnapped.  I needed two million pesos for my rescue.  I conferred with my cousins and we wanted the money to go from Christ to the kidnapper.
When I went looking so smart to the frying chicken, I was nearly fried.  I had to change my tactic.
I dressed myself in just shirt and trousers and went to another bad district of the city to see if I had better luck.
Near the central market I found a bar: the pained horse.  I thought it was a romantic name and went inside.
It was eleven o’clock at night.  It only had a few customers in spite of being on a Saturday night.  After I sat at a greasy table, I ordered an aguardiente with a hot pepper.  They brought me the aguardiente without pepper, but they wanted the money now.  I asked for a discount and paid in coins of five cents not to waist my money.
My god, said the girl.  This man seems to be a trap.
They all looked at me and laughed.  I bowed my head and said: I can earn my money any way I want.
This man must be the blind man who stands in a corner of the cathedral, someone said and they all laughed.
Then a big mulato stood up and said.  Don’t bother this poor man.  He can’t defend himself.  Don’t be queens.
They all looked at the mulato and I thanked him with my eyes while sipping my double aguardiente.  The tangos went on and on as I ordered another aguardiente, with a discount in its price.  I paid with five cents coins again.
The mulatto came closer to me.  He had a big moustache like Pancho Villa and he liked tangos.
You’re new here, young man, he said.  I arrived from Pereira a few days ago.  Do you want to drink an aguardiente?
All right, he said, happy to have had something in return for protecting me.  He drank the aguardiente in a gulp and wiped his moustache with the back of his hand.
He said he had to try everything.  Then he spit through his back teeth.  I had to leave Pereira because I tried everything, I said.
He shrugged.  You must be careful or someone will tell the police.
You seem to be a nice person, I said.
He kicked me in the legs.  You mustn’t trust anyone, stupid, he said.
I drank another aguardiente and said goodbye.
Where are you going? He asked.
I haven’t got much money.
Drink the last one, he had said.
I sat down again to do the honours to my friend.  To get through the low life is more difficult than it is in high society, but fortunately I had oriental marihuana.
On the third encounter with carepalo (he was called like that) I invited him to a trip.  The man understood.  He brought two friends and we locked ourselves in the back of the bar of Simeon.  We had a moving session and friendship blossomed between us.
Perpertura, Cara de Gato and El Tigre, completed my circle of friends.  We formed part of what is called marginalized people.  We had money when my friends found someone’s purse and I sold marihuana to the guards.
We slept in the café Estrella Roja, where members of a band lived and it opened all night.  We couldn’t go to sleep without drinking a few aguardientes.  The noise was terrible.  When I had some marihuana, we slept in Lucero’s house, with a few women.
In the local sanatorium, a doctor gave me penicillin against gonorrea.  Unfortunately the microbes were strong.  They seemed to get stronger.  I took in secrecy a full spectrum of antibiotics until the infection cleared.  After a month, I thought the moment had arrived.  The Carepalo had been eight times in jail.  He had to pay to eight judges to let him out.  Our judicial powers did not ask much money, otherwise he would be inside at this moment.
Forgive Mister judge, but that’s is the truth.  I wonder how you bought a nice house in the town, borrowing a modest ten percent from the bank.
As I didn’t shave, I grew great beautiful hippie bear.  I didn’t have a shower rather and smelled like a bird’s next.
I want to kidnap a millionaire, I said.
I knew everything about this man as he was my double cousin.  I told them where he went to work.  I acted as an intellectual author.  One of the few times I had been called a pure intellectual.
My colleagues were enthusiastic about it but they needed arms.  I didn’t like that part of the negotiation.  What if these men decided to kill me?
I don’t want to die yet.  A dead person makes bad faces and I don’t like it.  In the exhibition of dead people in our daily papers, I haven’t seen one of them with a good face.  They all seem to be ignorant about these matters.  As if it was the first time they died.
We could have a beautiful machine gun made of wood, I said.
They didn’t want to know.  They went to look for the arms.  The tragedy happened next night.  Cara de Tigre arrived with a bullet in his chest.  He breathed fast while blood poured out of his wound.
Simeone caught the blood in a bucket to stop the police finding out.  Next day he made a few sausages and invited the police chief and a few friends to eat with them.
According to Simeone’s wife diagnosis, we couldn’t help Caretigre.  He didn’t like dying and breathed hard.
We took him to the cemetery by bicycle.  We dressed him in a red sweatshirt with writing across the chest: hurrah to the cardinals.  In yellow letters underneath: Hurrah to the sports.  We had chosen the midday hour and under the hot sun.  We couldn’t win.
The dead man didn’t pedal very well, due to some fault with his legs.  He arrived on second place thirty two minutes behind the winner, a boy from Antioquia called: the Chumamechas Castro.
The national circuit of radio and television transmitted from the road as the president gave the trophies.  Caretigre was happy.  He said these important words: regards to my mum and dad.
The president was in owed of the boy oratory.  He offered him a place in the ministry of education.
We went to the tomb: 389N.  It had been rented by us for eight days.  Caretigre with tears in his eyes repeated the prayer of triumph and climbed inside a box.  The funeral people put a wall afterwards.  We had lost a companion because of the arms.  He had tried to disarm a member of the civil defense with very bad results.  Fortunately the police didn’t suspect anything.  We were sad.  The sausages and a dance we organized afterwards made us forget such a tragedy

. Mr. Judge, our marginal class smells. No one speaks more than two languages. They’re still reading the bible. They’re weird.

I must have been frightened but I stopped my projects forever.  I wanted to go with my family to the Christ of miracles to give him the money.
I went back to my usual life.  Women previously sterilized with friendly gonococcus that could do calculus.  I had bought several seeds of oriental marihuana to make my life better and to do honour to my ancestors saying: The land is life.
Mr. Judge, you should have seen how I dedicated myself to my plants.  I fed those plants vitamins, minerals and vaccinated them after six months.
Up to the day when I went to the country club.  I had an appointment with the wife of a manager, who had just come back from the Blue Coast.  She had promised to teach me a few love tricks she had learned in such a famous place.  As I heard a shot, something blew over my nose.  The Carepalo shot at me from a truck with a gun: WQ 587.  The plaque number was: WQ 897.  Ford model 1967.
My reflexes, excited by the marihuana made me act in an unexpected way.  The manager’s wife said she had been nervous, but I think love in the blue coast is just the same as love anywhere else, even if it is by the lake of Fuquene.
The incident made me remember my friends, who had not forgotten me.  I wanted to be safe and move throughout the sewers.  Unfortunately the authorities didn’t look after these places, and remembering Socorro, I moved in the outside world carefully.
A sergeant appeared one day in my house.  I thought it to be strange.  I had not told anyone about the incident.  When he came near me, I marvelled of how well the uniform looked on the Carepalo.  He had been born to be a sergeant.
He explained he had been sent by his superiors to be in charge of my personal safety.  He had a machine gun across his chest.  I touched it to make sure it was real.  I think the bullets were genuine
I wanted to thank the sergeant but fear kept me quiet.  Any false movement would leave me more perforated than Caretigre.
Thousand of scenes of police novels went through my mind.  None of them were good for my circumstances.
Then I thought of a solution not thought of in police novels.
Dear sergeant, I said.  I’m not very rich but I want to give you a million pesos.  I took out my cheque book.
Look, he said.  Don’t think I’m going to accept any money.  We have to do our duty….they have forbidden us to accept… any thing.
Don’t worry my sergeant.  I can give you a few cheques for thousands of pesos weekly.  You can send your chauffer to get them.
Carepalo put down his hat to scratch his head.  He had had his hair shaved Prussian style.  It looked all right.
That afternoon he left with one hundred and fifty thousand pesos in the pockets of his coat.
He came back next week dressed as a Carmelite.  He told me he had gone drunk and the police had taken away the money.  I had to give it ton him all over again.
Seven days later he came as a Vicentine sister.  He told me a long and cruel tail.  After getting drunk, he had gone to sleep by the door of a church.  Church goers had taken him to the next convent where the priests took him in.  They paid for a few masses with his money.  He thought he would be protected as a Vicentine sister now.
He came to visit me a few months later.  He was happy in the community but the vicar had fallen in love with him.
I heard of the rest of the story when he was in prison.  The priest had climbed up the walls of the convent.  In a tempestuous night he had tried to consummate his love and found the money under his bra.  He fled with the money, forgetting his love.
Carepalo left the religious life.  He started to hate religion.  He threw the Miraculous Christ, throwing him down the stairs and hurting, two nuns and a priest.  Fortunately he only broke a leg and a clavicle of the image.  A few diamonds rolled down on the floor but church goers gave them back.  As medical science took charge of the Christ, the police took away Carepalo.
Mr. Judge.  If my story has helped to justify my friend, then I believe I haven’t wasted my time.  You can free him as he acted under stress and intense pain.  I think the man has changed.  He should have the opportunity of going back to the convent.  The other argument and it must be the first one is that I still owe Carepalo 150.000 pesos.  He wants to share this sum of money with you.
Sincerely yours
Mario

N    Mr. Mario
You’re insulting my authority.  I also represent God, as it happens with most authorities.
I think you have lost your faith, as you defame the name of God and the saints.  I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a Castro communist.
You must know that us, the administrators of justice, we belong to a select society.  Tempting us with your money would be like tempting a saint.  In the case of Carepalo, the criminal intention plus the sin against the criminal code are a sacrilege.
There is also the kidnapping and dealing with drugs.  All of these things have been proved and justice will prevail.
By offering me money, you have broken the law.  It could get you in prison for twenty years.  Your insinuation of the building and loans I have are dangerous.  I can take you to court.
I must tell you that I’m clean.  I want to give my saint soul to the creator.  Your economic position doesn’t stop you from hurting good citizens.  You have a long chain of wrong doings.  It’s infantile to offer me 60000 pesos for erasing them.  You must think in your conduct.  You must understand that I can’t do it for less than 80.000 pesos.

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT A few sailors look into the night with binoculars. A middle aged man wearing a short shirt has a glass in his hand.

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 discovered.
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?
ALL THE SAILORS
Yes sir.

The man takes a microphone.

INTERMEDIARY
Tell radar.

He moves about the top of the ship. Then he sits and drinks from his glass.

SOMEONE (OS)
A boat is getting near to us.

The man stands up and takes the microphone.

INTERMEDIARY
A boat is coming.  Prepare the reception.

He sits again and lights up his pipe, while he waits. The sailors move around the top of the ship. A small boat approaches. The voice of ir5ts occupants is heard amidst the roar of the sea. The man stands up. He walks across the ship to greet the newcomers. After the small boat docks, squalid men and women jump into the bigger one. They stand in front of the man.

A FEW PEOPLE
National Liberation Army.

They stand around the ship. The one who seems to have more authority stays by the man. They come to greet the man as they arrive to the bigger ship. They all keep on repeating the same words.

PEOPLE
National Liberation Army.

The man who had stayed by the other man takes out his hat. He spits out of his back teeth, as he does a military salute.

BEARDED MAN
X-O bombs automatic battalion is ready for its secret mission of economic
character.
INTERMEDIARY
Thank you very much.
BEARDED MAN
Discretion!

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 man hugs the bearded one and offers him a cigar as all the others sit around.

INTERMEDIARY
You’ll receive the arms tomorrow night.  It’s a good place.  We have been there a
few times.  Don’t you think that we help indiscriminately?  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 A little bald man with a wallet under his left arm takes off his glasses. He salutes the man.

ATENAGORAS
Do you want something Mr. Intermediary?
INTERMEDIARY
Show me the papers of the negotiations with these revolutionary men.

Atenagoras sits next to the man and the bearded man. After putting his glasses on, he looks through the papers in his wallet. Henry looks at the bearded man.

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
Forgive me, Mr. Revolutionary man but you must understand this is an effective
and disinterested help.
BEARDED MAN
Mr. Intermediary, tell me how much we owe you.  We are not beggars.
INTERMEDIARY
You must forgive me.  I only had 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
…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 did you say?
BEARDED MAN
We’re bombs.
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.
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.  It’s not
your fault.  You are controlled by your powerful masters.
INTERMEDIARY
I’d like to be in your place, but my spirit is weak.  I do what I can to help the cause
of freedom.

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 ELN scratches a led.

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. 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 vile slaves.  Others are the masters.
BEARDED MAN
It’s the exploitation of man by man.

Atenagoras stop counting dollars.

ATENAGORAS
You make man exploit himself.
BEARDED MAN
Isn’t it funny?
ATENAGORAS
I don’t believe in that.
INTERMEDIARY
You count your dollars.  Won’t you ask Mr. Revolutionary to show you?
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 can 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.  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 bills.

ATENAGORAS
Everything seems to be OK.

He writes in a paper and signs it. The intermediary also signs it.

INTERMEDIARY
Here is your receipt.  Tomorrow you’ll have your arms in the place we agreed.  We
are good people and always do what we promise.
BEARDED MAN
You do keep your word.  I don’t know how good you are.

Atenagoras gestures to the ELN members.

ATENAGORAS
What happened to the experiment with the bobs?
BEARDED MAN
I’m thinking about it.  Our experiment might be good in the submarine fight.
INTERMEDIARY
But Mr. Revolutionary, this is not a warship.
BEARDED MAN
This is a peaceful ship.  It’s very good to test the war.  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
We have to pretend, that we’re fighting.  We don’t have a ship very often.  He has
good ideas.
INTERMEDIARY
Will we be all right?
BEARDED MAN
Nothing will happen to you.  You’ll witness military manoeuvres.
INTERMEDIARY
Don’t you think it stupid to lose one bomb?
BEARDED MAN
It’s obvious that you’re a poor rich terrorist.  The real revolutionary must live for
the revolution.  To lose an arm art any moment might serve to save many lives
afterwards.  I’m going to show you a submarine fighting.

He moves towards the bombs.

BEARDED MAN

Taking advantage of this ship, I’m going to try to shoot a submarine.  I’ll use a
bomb with small charge.  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 seating 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, understood?
INTERMEDIARY
What explosion?

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 explode it in your nose.

The intermediary says a few things to the sailors. The motor groans as the wind blows over the cloths covering the bombs. The intermediary wipes seat off his brow.

BEARDED MAN
What’s the speed?
INTERMEDIARY
Fifteen knots.
BEARDED MAN
Is that all?
ATENAGORAS
In ten minutes we’ll go at fifty kilometres per hour.
BEARDED MAN
Is this a joke?
INTERMEDIARY
We have to go into the open sea.
BEARDED MAN
When will it be?
ATENAGORAS
It’ll be in half an hour.

The bearded man looks at the young man.

BEARDED MAN
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 them.
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.
ATENAGOEAS
Submarines go under the sea.
BEARDED MAN
He’ll swim over the surface, anything thing wrong with it?
ATENAGORAS
Very well, lieutenant.
BEARDEDMAN
You’re as drunk as mules.  That’s why you don’t understand me.  I’ll explain it
with a graphic.

He finds a notebook in his bag and writes something. A few sailors arrive with the life jackets and wait for the bearded man to finish with his plans. The mediator 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.  He meditates in front of each one of them, while feeling it with his hand.  After taking a life jacket, he offers it o the young man.
BEARDED MAN
Attention.

The young man stands up. He puts the life jacket on.

BEARDED MAN
The life jacket is very good.  Can I have the reference?

A sailor examines another one. He gives all of the bearded man, who writes them 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.

BEARDED MAN
You go to the railings.  Then you jump after I count up to three.  When I shoot
with my signal gun, take off the thing of the bomb.  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.  Then I jump into the sea.  I wait for your
signal, before taking off the thing of 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 could just throw the life jacket to the sea.
BEARDED 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?
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 looks 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 while the bearded man looks at his watch. 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. A red light fills the scene as everyone 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
I can assure you, it was as good as new.
BEARDED MAN
Let’s find that bastard.

The intermediary gives orders to the sailors and the motor groans less.

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. The intermediary and Atenagoras pour aguardiente in their glasses. CUT TO EXT. SHIP- NIGHT They hear a voice through the microphone.

VOICE THROUGH MICROPHONE
We’re very close to the place.

As the ship stops everyone mutters. Then something floats in the sea. The life jacket looks orange in the light of the 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, my lieutenant.
BEARDED MAN
We’re going to destroy you.
NUMBER SIX
Yes, my lieutenant.

.The bearded man points at him with his gun. He shoots 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
Wait in there.  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. Her companions take off ammunition from her brassiere. After counting them, they keep a few and put the rest back in the bra.

MAN
She’s ready, my lieutenant.
BEARDED MAN
Now you must revise the equipment.

The men checked wires connected to the girl. She helps them with their job until she’s left completely naked. She has a young and attractive body. The bearded man looks at the wounded man in the life jacket.

BEARDED MAN
Number six, can you hear me?
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
Don’t interfere.  This isn’t your business.
ATENAGORAS
I’ll take him to hospital.
BEARDED MAN
If you go 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
Attention.

She stands in front of him.

BEARDED MAN
You must swim to number six, hug him and pull 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. He hands them over to the intermediary. He receives the money as a sailor brings another life jacket. After she puts it on, she moved toward the railings.

BEARDED MAN
Are you ready?
NUMBER TWENTY
Yes lieutenant.
BEARDED MAN
One, two and three.

The girl jumps into the sea. The motor groans while the wind groans. The ship goes faster as everybody waits. An explosion goes on in the middle of the sea. It illuminated the ship with a pinkish light.

BEARDED MAN
Mr. Intermediary, let’s go back to base.
INTERMEDIARY
Yes, sir.

Olga (the one with the most beautiful nose in the universe)

I don’t know where I’m. I saw a post office and went inside but then I found out I wanted to find you. I can’t write by hand so I looked for a typewriter. Only found my electric shaver. In the office they don’t know anything about typewriters or shavers. What a pity!

I found a bit of lead.  After I melted it, I built a linotype.  Let’s call it that way.  That’s why you must excuse my writing and you must appreciate the effort.
I’ve been a very bad patriot.  My heart beat as I heard the radio presenter’s words:  Get to know your country first, and then the foreign lands.  I went to see my cardiologist.  I told him: I have a pain in my heart.  An electrocardiogram showed I had not had a hear attack.  I had a big pain to get to know my country.
I decided to travel to your arms in a inter-municipal bus or inter provincial bus in this case.  They told me at the office it might take about ten hours.
It’s the opportunity I had to take to stop my heart going mad.  The best way to get to know a country is by foot but I might get kidnap and killed on the way.
I arrived at the bus station at five o’clock in the morning.  Our ship had been parked in the terminal.  It shone under the electric light.  Some passengers were having a pandebono with some coffee, while others drank an aguardiente to protect them against the cold weather.  I drank an aguardiente against the cold weather and another one for me.
As I read the newspapers headline, an urchin called me: aren’t you going on that bus?
I saw my ship getting ready to take off.  I took two suitcases in a hand, three in the other one, plus my hat, my poncho, glasses and bottle of aguardiente in my extra hands.  I ran towards the vehicle, shouting and showing my ticket with another extra hand.  The chauffer slowed down to 80 kilometres per hour, to let me jump inside, while saying: Were you asleep?
The bus had to stop for a few minutes because it had run over a woman who had tried to catch up with it.  I took the opportunity to take my luggage inside the vehicle.  I discovered I had to stand up in between a few other people.  As I saw people removing the woman from under the bus, I thought I had been lucky.  I thought: I must get to know my country first.
A few minutes later, we started to move as the sun rose from behind the mountains.  I thought: what if the mountains had appeared behind the sun?
We, the philosophers, are always involved in syllogisms, analysis and synthesis, and that’s why we’re called lunatics.  I saw the green fields while the smell of honey invaded my senses.  I had been mistaken.  Green chicken dirt ran down my hat and that was the cause of the smell.
The owner of the chickens explained that she had paid for her ticket and had all the right to put her animals wherever she wanted.  She didn’t have to listen to a man, who must have eaten shit all his life.
The driver brought to an end her argument, and I harried to another place in the bus.
Please move to the back. The driver shouted.
I couldn’t move anymore.  I had been placed between a fat, sweating farmer, a clerk with big glasses and two old ladies.  As an intellectual, I remembered one of Picasso’s paintings, where several people occupy the space of only one.  If someone moves, they’ll throw a person out of the picture, or the bus in this case.
It was difficult to breath inside the bus.  Some more people might be trying to get on the vehicle because the driver kept on shouting.  I didn’t have pain just in the heart.  All of my body hurt and I couldn’t feel my legs.  I had a beautiful view.  The farmer’s neck had wrinkles that moved rhythmically as the bus moved.  On my right hand side, the travel agent’s bag had a bi-headed eagle.  It held in its claws the initials R.I.T.
Was his name, Roberto Ignacio Torres, Ramon Irragorri Tenerife, Ramiro Insuasti Tangerife? I imagined as many names for filling a fat telephone book.
The swollen neck of the woman on my left went down as she passed saliva, while the moustache of the woman behind me, tickled my ears.  We all sweated a lot.  Small rivers went down the neck of the farmer.  They got together and disappeared under the shirt in falls.  They formed a spectacle good for a poem and as beautiful as the Tequendama Falls, when they had water.
The bus stopped.  We had arrived at one of the towns on the way to your city.  Seven passengers got down and fourteen came in the bus.  We couldn’t eat anything because our trip had been delayed for half an hour, according to the driver, who kept on shouting: Move to the back.
It felt less hot while the bus stopped.  The rivers down the farmer’s neck had stopped.  I couldn’t look at my watch as it had been stolen before.
As I thought that R.I.T could be Ricardo Iguaran Tortuga, I felt a warm liquid going down my back.  The acrid, acid smell impregnated everything.  The woman with the swollen neck had vomited on my back
The woman had a mixed breakfast that morning.  Bits of eggs and bread went down my trousers.  She kept on vomiting but she had turned towards the travel agent.
I couldn’t stand it anymore and vomited over the farmer, who had done it already over a nun, who vomited over a clerk, who did it on a judge.  He had to vomit out of the window not to spoil the driver’s uniform as he shouted: Move to the back.

The smell was worse as I took bits of egg and sausages out of my shirt and trousers. I tried to vomit on the travel agent, but a peanut seller did it first. Bits of bread and egg had landed on the bi-headed eagle, covering the initials R.I.T

The woman with the swollen neck had poured most of the contents of her stomach on me, but the peanut seller had put hers on the travel agent.  We looked more or less the same by now.  We looked at each other like good friends.
Twenty minutes for lunch, the bus driver shouted. Then I realised that it was already noon.  I couldn’t move my legs.  I sat down on the floor of the vehicle in the company of my neighbours, where we frolicked in each other’s vomits.  A few minutes later, we wobbled out of the bus.  The woman with the swollen neck and a

four year old boy had died. They died standing up. Just like trees do.

My clothes had been turned into a smelly mass.  I found a chair and sat down.  Someone brought me a coca cola.  I thought it the most refreshing drink in the world.  I blessed Yankee imperialism at that moment.  I might have kisses Nixon to death if I had seen him.
I had in front of me the instrument of torture where I had suffered do much.  I went back to the vehicle and found myself behind the farmer and looking at the letters R.I.T with a few spots on it.  The woman with the swollen neck had been replaced by a panela seller.  He invited me to rest in one of his boxes.  I was tired and went to sleep as soon as I sat down.
I woke up later on in a dark place.  I discovered I was naked.  I didn’t even have my underpants on.  As I tried to stand up, I hit my head against something metal.  I heard someone snoring.  It seemed to be a communal dormitory.  Then I remembered the saying: Get to know your country first.  Was I in a foreign country?
After crawling around the place, I discovered I was still in the bus, but the vehicle did not move.  As I looked for the door, I found the driver’s place.  Someone snored and shouted from time to time: move to the back.  He had to be our pilot.
I heard a noise: pssssssssst.  I found a cricket singing, as I looked around.  He didn’t know what had happened to us.
Put something on, I thought he said.  You’ll go to prison for being a nudist.
After thanking him, I left the vehicle and set down the road.  I saw a shadow.  It had shiny eyes amidst a dark body.  They emitted a red light.
Good night, he said.  It sounded like a ship’s siren.
Good night, I replied.
If it was a boat, I might be in a river.  It was an unexpected situation.
I’m a ghost the ship’s siren said.  I’m walking to Pereira.
Congratulations, I said.  It’s the best thing to do.  I left a while ago for Bogota.
Why are you naked? He asked as his eyes changed to a dark yellow.
I don’t know, I said.  I woke up like this.
Use one of my sheets, he said.
He gave me one of his shadows.  He helped me to put my eyes where the holes were.  I felt at a better temperature.
Are you going to Pereira then? I asked.  I wanted to say something.
Yes, he said.  I’m going to be an actor there for two months.  Life as a ghost is hard.  He sounded like the siren of a ship again.
Aren’t you depressed? I asked.
He shrugged.  To have some success you need to work with someone.  You won’t do anything by yourself.
Do you have company? I asked.
He nodded.  It’s the most famous in the country.  Four luminous skeletons started to dance above the trees.  Their bones produced a nice rhythm.  One of them lost a leg and it fell down to the floor.
That is Ilina, he said.  She’s the pop ghost.  It keeps on happening all the time.  She has broken four false legs.
My friend picked up the leg.  He tried to repair it with an old screw driver.  He gave me one of his eyes.  It had light like a battery operated torch.
Here you are, he said.  Hold it.
As I did it, I illuminated the place.  The eye felt sticky in my hands.  It threw a white light while my companion repaired the Iliana’s leg, who kept on dancing above a tall pine.
Take you horrible leg, he roared.  If you break it again, you’ll have to jump about like a kangaroo.
Iliana put the leg on and went on dancing.  She didn’t care what her companion thought.  I tried to give him back the eye.
You can put it on, he said.  I have a few more of them.  As I put it on my forehead, I saw very well.  My vision had never been as good as this.  I saw three dinosaurs behind me with my middle eye.  They must have been diplodocus or the members of a political party.
Frankenstein, Dracula and the werewolf played cards on the river of blood.  It seemed to be made of that for me.
Adolph Hitler with his moustache spoke to Martin Borman and Eva Braun about the defence of Berlin.  Mussolini, Clara Petacci and Pio XII played bridge.
Tutankhamen asked me for Nasser’s health and for the last triumphs of the Egyptians over the Israelites.  I told him everything was all right.  If it went on like that, the only Jewish people left in the world would be the Antioquenos.
When Hitler heard the news of the Jews, he came to my side.  I had to tell him a lie of the war of the six days.  The man awarded me the iron cross of first class.
Charles de Gaulle dressed as Joan de Arc and with a portable fire swore that England would never enter the European Common Market
Francisco Franco, wearing a crown of Ferdinand the seventh, told me that Opus Day was stupid.
Simon Bolivar looked for Manuelita, who hid the sealed papers to General Santander.
A few biped monkeys came at the end of the parade.  They danced while singing:
We’re the Australopithecus
The invincible Australopithecus
Everything men have done
We have already done
Don’t deny it
Don’t deny it
Don’t say no
We’re the Australopithecus
The immortal Australopithecus
Men are called wise
Ha, ha, ha, JA, HA, HA, HA
Do you want to see it?
We’re the real wise ones.
The song and dance stopped.  After they formed a double queue, they looked into each other’s fur for fleas.
The strongest of them gave the others sticks.  As the music started, they hit each other’s heads, until they broke into peaces.
The music stopped.  The monkeys left alive looked very happy.  First they ate the dead ones.  Then they devoured the wounded apes, which crawled about the floor.
Hitler, Truman, Eisenhower, Mussolini, Franco, Tojo, Hirojito, Cesar and a few other famous people stood by my side.
When the Australopithecus finished eating the rest of the Australopithecus, they said: what sausages.  The dinosaurs laughed aloud.  It was very loud and the chauffer heard them.
“As you can see my friend,” my friend with the sheet said.  “We have to pay many things and the taxes.”
At that moment he looked at the horizon and swore.  Then he went inside a grey rock.
I sat down on a stone to see the sun rising.  I didn’t want surcharges and paid my taxes to the aurora.  The bus had gone I didn’t know where it could be.  As I heard the roar of an approaching car, I felt happy.  I was hungry.  I could have eaten one of the Australopithecus.
I saw an old truck going up the hill.  I signalled with my hands and it stopped.  The driver opened his eyes like a madman.  Without much explanation, he threw his car down the precipice.
I heard a sound: chezzzz!
The same thing happened with a bus.  It fell down the precipice.  A jeep went down the same way a while later.  All of the drivers opened their eyes like the first truck driver had done.
I went down the stone.  I thought the road went down the precipice but only saw the bloody wreckage.  People are strange, I thought as I went down a path.
I found a house a few minutes later.  I saw a muddy backyard with a few geraniums growing in potties and three scrawny dogs, uglier than the potties.  They started to howl.  A countrywoman looked out of a dirty window.  She made the same face the truck driver had done, and fell down to the floor.
Everybody is fainting today, I thought.  I was hungry.  I moved towards the kitchen where I could smell food.  Two children giggled when they saw me.
“What are you playing at? One of them asked.
I shrugged.  “I don’t want to play anything.”
I drank an insipid soup, but I found it delicious.
“He has eaten the soup of Crisanto and Capuchina,” a child told the other one.
“Who are Crisanto and Capuchina?” I asked as I wiped my mouth with my hand.
“They’re the dogs,” the said in unison.
A went to the basement to wash my hands.  As a looked at my face in the mirror, I saw a blue eye in the middle of my forehead.
The children shouted.  “Mum, the ghost ate the dogs’ food.”
I felt terror.  I seemed to be the ghost.  As I looked at my face in the mirror, I fainted.
When I opened my eye, I saw country men and women surrounding me.  A priest read from a dirty book, while throwing water on me.  I tried to seat up but a few men raised their machetes.  The priest calmed them down.  After he lit a candle, a boy rease, the petrol, the oil and a screw from time to time.  He seems to be eating pop corn. passed it to me.  The priest led me to a jeep with the candle in my hand.  He blew the candle and we left in the car.
“Father,” I said.  “Where are we?
“Don’t worry.  You are with me.”
“But I….”
“Ave Maria then,” he said.  “Don’t put any problems.”
He had Antioqueno accent.  I managed to mutter: I’m hungry.
“As saoon as we arrive at my house, you can have a whole pig with toast.
“Can I also have an aguardiente? I asked.
“You can have all the aguardiente you want to,” he said.
I felt more relaxed and sat back on my seat.
In the priest’s house, they gave me morcillas with plantain slices.  Then they gave me a bottle of aguardiente.  I drank all of it in a few minutes and fell asleep.
The priest woke me up sometime during the night.  He took me to a big, empty room.  I heard the sound of music for a while.  It was interrupted later by a voice: those people with a ticket can go through the door on the left.
Then a lot of people started to file in front of me.  They all looked at me and some of them fainted.  Some of them ran away but others said: This priest has very nice dollies.  Other people didn’t feel any respect for me.  They pulled my sheet or twisted my nose.
The spectacle lasted for some time.  When they shut the doors, the priest looks satisfied.
“Go to sleep,” he said.  “We’ll go tomorrow to the next town.”
“Father,” I said.  “Couldn’t you buy better clothes for me?”
“Clothes? He said.  “That sheet costs more than the best cardinal clothes, as for that light bulb…”
I remembered my extra eye.
“What batteries do you use? It’s looking pale.”
“Big ever-ready,” I said.  I lay down on the sacks.
I woke up naked today.  Someone had stolen my clothes.  I called: Helloooo! A maid appeared.  She screamed and ran away from me.  The priest came in the room.  He looked at me in shock.
“What did you do with your sheet and battery powered eye? He asked.
I didn’t know what to say.
“I hope you haven’t lost such a beauty,” he said.  He gave me a towel to cover myself.
“That was our future.  You really looked like a ghost.  What did you do with it?”
He looked everywhere, throwing things to the floor.
“I don’t know anything, father,” I said.  “Perhaps that water you poured on me made the eye and the sheet go away.”
“Don’t be silly.  That water is not good for anything.  What did you do with your things?”
I couldn’t convince the priest that the eye and the sheet of Polifermo had gone away.  He gave me shirt and trousers, plus ten pesos.  Then he sent me on my way.
The trousers are a big short and the shirt has bright colours.  I feel very hungry while I’m writing.  I remember the watery soup from the dogs.  I don’t know if I’ll ever get to your arms, but this letter is a testimony of my adventures on this planet.
Your love
Mario
I ran away from her.  I didn’t want to know about her friend Mechas anymore.

PS. The woman at the post office has just told me: Look Mister. We don’t have an air mail here, because they haven’t built the airport yet. I’m putting your letters in that corner. She gestured towards a big pile of letters to be sent by airplane or airmail, she said with pride. Many people pay the stamps with a big jet printed on them. Then they take the letter to its destination. People from the next town get furious when we talk of our air mail service. They just don’t much of a civic spirit and imagination. Don’t you think so?

We also have a theatre.  We saw a spectacle last night only seen in London and new York before.  Imagine a black ghost with an eye on his forehead.  It changed colours like all of those things in the street corners of Bogota.  How are they ncalled? Ahhhhhhhhh! I know.  They’re frantic lights.  You must think in one of those frantic things.  I was so frightened I couldn’t sleep.  I’m a nice girl, who runs away from bad things.  She sighs.  You don’t know what can happen next to a bad ghost like that.  My friend Mechas saw a beetle one night.  It was horrible.  She dreamed with this insect, and do you know what happened? Her stomach started to grow.  The child is twenty years old and in the army now.

We see the top part of a luxurious ship. Three women are talking. Two of them are beautiful and one is ugly.

Princess is very beautiful.  She has jest black hair and the neck of a swan.  She wears a one piece swimming costume.
PRINCESS
…Then the tenor kissed her and they went into his flat.

Mimi is blond and naked.

MIMI
I’ll tell everybody in London.  A divorce should be fine for such a saint.

Cucu is ugly. She wears a one piece swimming costume.

CUCU
She can’t compare herself with us.  We lead honest lives.
PRINCESS
As I’ve told you, if the prince doesn’t say sorry, I’ll leave him.
CUCU
He can be a prince and everything else but he doesn’t a fortune and a yacht like
Homer’s.
PRINCESS
You shouldn’t think that way.  There’s nothing between us.
MIMI
It’s only a friendship.  That happens to me with Flaming.  We’re just friends.  We
have been together for only fifteen days.  It’ll be serious when we have slept with
each other for more than forty times, or if I’m pregnant.
CUCU
Men love modern life.  Women don’t have to worry about getting pregnant
because of the pill.
PRINCESS
We’re the ones who laugh now.
CUCU
Who wants to be pregnant now?  I dream of living by the Blue Coast, New York,
Paris or in this beautiful sea.

PRINCESS
The prince has a chalet on the Blue Coast.
CUCU
He doesn’t have as much money as Homer.
MIMI
Homer has as much money as the general Motors.
PRINCESS
He’s so nice.
CUCU
Be careful with this one.
MIMI
I want to swim.

She moves towards the pool.

PRINCESS
I’m going to the hairdresser.  My hair is in a mess.
CUCU
I’m staying here, my darlings.  I have to write my novel.
PRINCESS
You’re the best writer of the century.

Cucu goes to a phone on the wall. She gets the receiver.

CUCU
Mariposa, Mariposa.  Bring all the tools.  We’re going to work.

A middle aged man appears. He’s wearing dark sunglasses, a sailor’s hat and swimming trunks.

HOMER
Good morning, my writer.  Have you had any breakfast?
CUCU
Hello my handsome admiral.  I’ve already had my breakfast.
HOMER
Is Princess up?
CUCU
Yes darling.  She’s gone to the hairdresser’s.
HOMER
I’m gong to eat something.

Cucu laughs.

CUCU
Go away, fat man.  I have to write now.  Mariposa is coming in a minute.

Mariposa, a beautiful twenty year old girl arrives. She brings a type writer and some other things. As Cucu pecks her cheek, she smiles.

CUCU
Sit down, my darling.  We have to work hard now.

She sighs.

CUCU
It’s a hard job being a celebrity.  Not many women are famous for their
intelligence.  Men want us to be full of make up, and to worry about our beauty.
MARIPOSA
I’m ready.
CUCU
Well, my dear.  Let’s write the title.  Love in high seas.  What do you think?
MARIPOSA
We could call it: Witching love under the waves.
CUCU
Fine, let’s call it that way.
MARIPOSA
OK
CUCU
The night bled amongst the far away peaks, full of mixed up snow like a bride’s
cake.  She died in the sea.  In that sea turned to froth against the modern cliffs,
against the night invading all the spaces and the souls.

Cucu pauses. Then she starts again.

CUCU
Full stop.  Ramon, the athletic and dark Ramon, on the cover of his ship, played
with a white margarita.  Its petals falling on the sea froth.  He sighs as his black
eyes follow the contours of the land by the horizon.  Lights flicker in the distance,
like remote stars of unknown constellations.  Full stop.  The touch of his silky
clothes brings him back to reality.  He sees an angelic creature floating in between
the passengers aboard the ship.  She wears a red Christian Dior dress with silver
buttons.  They go cling clang every time she moves.  Her breasts peek in between
her cleavage. (More details about her dress in page 68 of the magazine)
Manuel sighs again.  Then he wipes his full lips with his handkerchief, adorned
with the family emblem.
The lights have been erased in between the fog that resembles a fleeing bride.
They have been suspended between the eternity of the sky and the eternity of the
sea.
MARIPOSA
I want to cry.
CUCU
Cry my dear.  Your sensibility is my thermometer.  I think we’re fine.

Mariposa cries for a while. Then she wipes her eyes with her handkerchief. It’s less pretty than Ramon’s.

She founds her make up in her bag and applies some powder around the eyes.
CUCU
Read me the last part.

Mariposa reads.

CUCU
All right.  Full stop.
The handsome man goes after the angel.  He feels as if he were amongst spring
clouds.  The universe has been erased and his eyes reflect her fine profile against
the bridge lights. The siren throws its sounds on the sweet crest of the waves.  The
curly lashes of the night are a prelude of the stars in a rimel sky ( see page 41 0f
our magazine of the make up for a night without full moon.  Soft music comes
from the first class room as he sits next to the angel.
I’m sorry your majesty, he said.  I was lost in the deepest part of the sea in the
company of Vulcano and his friend, when I saw the light.  It emitted the softest
perfume I have ever known.  I was perplexed.  Aphrodite moved on the ship after
abandoning her palace in the bottom of the sea.  I was marvelled about it and here
you have me, my treasure.
The girl is surprised.  Ramon’s soft voice has flooded all of her body’s
compartments.  How beautiful.  She had time to say, before her pale blue eyes
descended into sadness.  Ramon takes her by the ribbon her dress has in the front
(see it in page 69 of the catalogue) and tells her:
Your eyes look like the swimming pool of the Monte Carlo Hilton.  When will you
let me have a bath?
The girl says: what a pity.  I’m shut for repairs at the moment, otherwise you could
jump from the trampoline.
Ramon feels something entering his flesh.  It’s strong and painful.  As he examines
the seat, he finds a loose spring.  Beautiful creature, he says.  I’d never
swim there without my life jacket (see models with lifejackets in page 4)
She sighs while her face betrays intense pain.  Something is clouding your vision,
he says.  It’s pterigios.  The oculist will operate them next week (see our section:
look after your eyes.  Things you can do to prevent pterigios) Ramon sighs.  If I
could make you smile to see the blue of your pupils, I’d be the happiest man on
earth.  You must stop turning the ribbon around.  It might break.
Why don’t you give it to me? I’ll keep it like a treasure to accompany me for the
rest of my life.
The girl takes out the ribbon and gives it to him (consult our catalogue again.  The
dress without a ribbon looks very nice)
Ramon looks at the new panorama.  Her cleavage has gone down, exposing the
swelling of her breasts.
What’s your name? he asks.
Amapola, she answers.
You’re the most beautiful flower in the garden of the gods, he says.  As he can’t
play with the ribbon, he explores with his eyes the neighbouring regions.
I’m wearing a bra without straps, she says.  Why can’t you stop fidgeting with
your hands? (see page 67 with the last models of intima bras.  The best thing for
your intimate comfort)
Music has filtered through the room (see the latest models of small speakers)
They dance at the tune of the soft music, while looking at each other’s eyes.
“Are you travelling on your own? He asks.
“No,” she says.  “I’m with my husband.”
The young man looks pale.  “I didn’t know you were married.”
Amapola says: Careful.  You’re stepping on my foot.
“Where is that lucky man?”
“Who?”
“Your husband.”
“I don’t know.  He fell in the sea, and no one has found him.”
“What?”
I don’t know.  He had myopia and had forgotten his glasses (see page 13.  Nice
models of unbreakable glasses)
“Did he drown?
“Yes, unless he’s playing withg the whales.”
“You’re alone then.”
“Alone and without money.  That idiot went down with the cheque book.”
You have me now, my darling Amapola.  We’ll travel together.  We’ll spen our
love in the arms of Morpheus (see in page 88,  all of our range of Morpheos
mattresses)

CUCU
Well, we have finished with the story.
MARIPOSA
How beautiful.  How long they travelled for?
CUCU
That is after the reader.  Some will think they went away for a few weeks, reas, or
perhaps just for the night.
MARIPOSA
One night was enough for me, an artic night lasing six months.
CUCU
Let’s go to the pool now.

Cucu leaves while Mariposa reads the story. One or two tears leave her eyes in the most emotional parts. She dries her eyes and takes the type writer away. INT. ROOM OF LUXURIOUS SHIP- DAY Homer meets Mariposa.

HOMER
I’m glad to see you on your own.  Where is our writer?
MARIPOSA
She’s gone to the pool, Mr. Homer.
HOMER
Take those clothes off and come to the pool.
MARIPOSA
I’m doing that, Mr. Homer.
HOMER
Call me Homer.
MARIPOSA
Ye, Homer.

He holds her chin.

HOMER
That’s better.

She blushes.

MARIPOSA
Please…
HOMER
When will you come to the captain’s deck?
MARIPOSA
That deck is always full of people.  It might capsize the ship.
HOMER
You’d be a charming visitor.  Can’t you take a few weeks off to go around the world with me?
MARIPOSA
Thank you.  Anyone would go around the world with such a nice captain.
HOMER
Go and take off your clothes, my child.  The girls have arrived.

Mimi and Princess appear in the corridor. They’re wet and their hair is messy.

BOTH OF THEM
Hi captain.
PRINCESS
Mr. Captain, your swimming pool is delicious.
MIMI
Everything about you is good.
HOMER
Will you drink something, beautiful girls?

The women sit down. They all have their own bag of creams.

MIMI
We must look after our skin now.  The pirate who brought us here might leave us
in the first port, if we have an imperfection.

Homer gestures.

HOMER
Waiter, where are you?

A man appears.

HOMER
Can I help you?
Bring large, dry martinis for the ladies.
PRINCESS
Won’t you drink anything, my captain?
HOMER
I’ve just had something.

CUT TO INT. ROOM INSIDE LUXURIOUS SHIP- DAY The women massage every part of their bodies with the cream.

HOMER
Excuse me but I have the job of massager in the ship.

He takes the cream and massage Mimi’s naked body.

HOMER
Dear princess.  Stop massing yourself.  I’ll see to you as soon as I finish here.

Homer whistles while running his fingers on Mimi’s anatomy. He concentrates on her breasts and hips as Mimi giggles.

MIMI
This is the best massage I’ve ever had.
HOMER
Anyone would like to massage your beautiful body.  I’ll do your back now.

Mimi turns herself over, after sipping a bit of her martini. Princess does the same thing and waits for Homer to massage her back. Mariposa appears naked. Homer interrupts his work to look at the girl.

HOMER
I’m surrounded by the most beautiful women in the world.  Do you want a
massage, my dear?

They all laugh.

MARIPOSA
Yes, sir.  After I come back from the pool.
HOMER
I’ll wait for you, my girl.
MIMI
He’s a Don Juan.  He puts me aside to get that one.
PRINCESS
I don’t think he’s very faithful.
HOMER
You all come to me at the same time.  I’m only human.  Are you ready Princess?

Princess gets ready to receive the massage. Mimi’s skin looks a nice colour now. Thanks to Homer’s hands. He starts to work on Princess’ back.

PRINCESS
Where did you learn to do massage?
HOMER
I was born with such a gift.

MIMI
Cucu is coming.  You have another client.
HOMER
She’ll have to do her own massage, unless she takes her clothes off.

Cucu appears.

CUCU
The captain seems to be busy.
HOMER
I’m surrounded by so much beauty.
CUCU
You look happy.
MIMI
Get ready for your massage, writer.
CUCU
I can’t take my clothes on.  I have the red light today.

They all laugh. Homer is busy with Princess beautiful body. It is turning a nice, healthy shade under his touch.

CUCU
What are you drinking?
PRINCESS
Martini.  Do you want some?
CUCU
Yes.
HOMER
Waiter.  Look after the lady.  Don’t look at the girls with such big eyes.

The young man smiles.

WAITER
You’re very nice, sir.

Homer stops doing the massage.

HOMER
I want to refresh myself in the pool now.

He leaves the scene.

PRINCESS
I didn’t go to the hairdresser.  I preferred the pool.
CUCU
We all go now.  We have to look nice to do the honours to the prawns.
PRINCESS
That’s the house speciality. LSD prawns.
MIMI
It’s madness.  Homer is a devil.
PRINCESS
He’s a cosmopolitan devil.
CUCU
Some people say he’s had a transplant.
PRINCESS
I’ve heard about that.  He makes love as if he were a teenager.
MIMI
He should be less active at his age.
PRINCESS
How can we ask him?
MIMI
It’s easy.  We talk about plastic surgery.  I’m one of its victims.
EVERYBODY
How?
MIMI
Life’s cruel sometimes.
EVERYBODY
Tell us.

I was a normal man up to a few years ago.

EVERYBODY
A man?
MIMI
I was good looking and rich.  I had to look after the family fortune.  Then my
father died and I met Gina.
PRINCESS
Who’s Gina?
MIMI
She’s an Italian opera singer.  I fell in love with her.  I started to go to operas
where I slept for most of the time.  In liked her voice and her exuberant beauty.
I left everything and went with her around Europe.  I was like a lap dog.  I had to
be near her because of her jealousy.  We lived just for each other, until one day, on
our return from Paris, she gave me the news: she was pregnant.
I never wanted to have children.  I had been so much in love I had forgotten all of
the precautions.  She retired from her company and we waited the birth of our
child.  Pregnancy didn’t suit Gina.  She lost most of her beauty and became more
jealous.  After the child’s birth, she changed even more.  The beautiful girl I had
loved, became a boring and neurotic woman.
I had been a free man, without any problem.  Now I drifted towards a respectable,
boring life.  Then I started to change.
I went to see her less and less, until I barely saw mother or son.  Perhaps O got
tired of so much spaghetti.
I met Rachel at a discotheque.  She was young and free.  She was so different of
the overweight matron, always boiling water for the baby.  She had changed her
singing for the job of boiling water.
I went on a tour of South America with Rachel and hardly remembered Gina.  I
went to see her on my way back from my trip.  I found her fatter.  A wart had
grown on her nose.
I visited Gina less and less.  Something strange happened.  She seemed to be less
jealous, as if accepting her role of secondary lover.  She tried to attract me again,
and worried about my life.  She stopped shouting with her soprano high notes, and
spoke in a normal voice.  In one of my visits to give her money, she made me sign
a few papers.  At that time, I used to sign anything without reading the small letters
nearby.  She started to phone me nearly everyday, asking for my health.  She said I
looked pale.


PRINCESS

I’m sorry to interrupt you, dear, but our host is taking mariposa away.

CUCU

He doesn’t leave anyone in peace.  He’s a devil.
PINCESS
Mimi, go on with the story.

MIMI

One day she said, she didn’t feel well, and if I wanted to come with her to the
hospital.  I felt sorry for the poor woman, who had given me everything.  Why
don’t you have a check up darling? She asked.  I nodded.  I did feel a bit tired.
It’s the ideal place for you to rest, she said.  Stay a few days, and I can book you a
room.  I thought Gina was right.  I needed to have a rest and a check up by a
doctor.
That night the nurse gave me some tablets.  After injecting something in my arm,
she shaved my whole body.  Why are you doing this? I asked.  She smiled and
shrugged.  I went to sleep.
A while later, I thought I was in a surgery room.  A light was on my face, while
people with blue shirts injected my arms.  I saw tubes and needled as I went to
sleep.
I had more injections when I woke up and saw a lot of bottles by my side.  I felt
something weighing on my genitals.  As I found a plastic tube instead of my penis,
I understood all the tragedy.  I went to sleep again.
I saw in between my dreams doctors and nurses checking my body, while Gina sat
by my side.  I saw her there as I woke up later.  She smiled.  It was an evil smile.
You’re in the hospital, my darling, she said.
Why do I have these bottles around me?
They’re necessary.
What have they done to me?
Nothing important.  Go back to sleep.
Why am I wearing this shirt?
It’s a blouse, my darling.  Any woman would like to wear it.
What woman?
The operation was an exit.  You’re a beautiful woman now.  It’s a revenge for
what you’ve done to me.  You’ll never forget me.  Never!  And you can’t love any
more women.


PRINCESS


That’s a terrible revenge.  What a woman!
CUCU
It’s a Sicilian vendetta.
MIMI
That’s the best revenge I’ve ever seen.  She hurt me the same way I had done to
her.  I’ll never forget her.

Mariposa comes in. She’s dressed again.

PRINCESS
Hi girl.  Why are you dressed again?
CUCU
Perhaps Homer has massaged her body.
MARIPOSA
You have a good imagination.
MIMI
Where is that joker?
MARIPOSA
I don’t really know.

Homer appears. He wears white trousers and a tee-shirt.

HOMER
You haven’t finished your Martinis, beautiful girls.  Waiter!
PRINCESS
Homer is always full of vitality.
CUCU
Captain, your vitality must have been provided by science.

The waiter comes in.

HOMER
Waiter, bring Martinis for everybody.
PRINCESS
Homer, this beautiful girl used to be a man before.
HOMER AND MARIPOSA
What?
MIMI
She’s telling the truth.
HOMER
Tell me everything, darling.
MIMI
I was madly in love with an Italian girl and we had a child.  She changed after
having the baby.  I didn’t want romanticism.  I left her for a world full of women.
I was young, rich and healthy.  What else could I do?

The waiter comes in with the martinis.

HOMER
What else happened?
MIMI
She made me sign some papers, I didn’t read.  She took me to the hospital for a
check up and I had the operation.  I woke up transformed into a woman.
HOMER
When was it?
MIMI
It happened in Paris two years ago.
HOMER
In Paris?
MIMI
Why are you so interested?
HOMER
I want to know the date.
MIMI
It was on the tenth of March, two years ago.
HOMER
Did you say the tenth of March?
MIMI
I can’t understand why it is so terrible.

Homer laughs.

HOMER
Ha, ha, ha.  The tenth of March.

The man can’t stop laughing.

PRINCESS
What’s wrong with the tenth of March?
MIMI
Why is it so funny?

Homer laughs a lot. He can’t talk. Then he takes a big breath.

HOMER
It’s all very strange.
PRINCESS
Tell us what is do funny
HOMER
Dear Mimi, can I tell you something?
MIMI
Tell me quickly before I go mad.
HOMER
I had everything in life, except one thing.  I couldn’t have sex.  I knew a doctor in
Paris and he promised to find a donor.  We had to keep it a secret.  One day he told
me the good news.  A healthy young man wanted to become a woman.  He wanted
one hundred thousand dollars plus the cost of the treatment.  It was two thousand
pesos more.
I had my operation on the tenth of March, two years ago.
MIMI
Then…
PRINCESS
The two of you?
MARIPOSA
On the same day?
EVERYBODY
OHHHHHHHHHH!
HOMER
I was nervous, even if it was a routine operation.
PRINCESS
It might have gone wrong.
MIMI
Did they fit you with my things then?
HOMER
Yes, darling.  It wasn’t my fault.
PRINCESS
Gina must have taken the one hundred thousand dollars.
MIMI
It’s more bad news.
HOMER
We are the first human being to make love to ourselves.
MIMI
Yes, of course.
CUCU
It’s a world record.
PRINCESS
Homer, you’re very good now.
MIMI
I was very good.
PRINCESS
We have been sleeping with Mimi then.

They all laugh.

PRINCESS
It’s funny.
HOMER
One moth after the operation, my life had changed.  I had become somebody else.
I thought of the young man who had sacrificed his manhood.  I didn’t know the sad
truth.
MIMI
One month after the operation, I had to learn to walk with high heels and to wear a
mini skirt.
PRINCESS
What about the brassiere?
MIMI
That was hard.  I still don’t do it very well.
HOMER
You can stay with me from now on.  You’re really with yourself.

They all laugh.

HOMER
You’ve had an exciting youth.
MIMI
It’s a painful memory.
PRINCESS
That’s life.

Mariposa looks at Mimi.

MARIPOSA
She seems to be a real woman.
CUCU
We never suspected anything.
HOMER
Didn’t you see your Gina again?
PRINCESS
I don’t think she was Gina Lollobrigida.
MIMI
She disappeared for ever.
HOMER
You’re the father and mother of your own son.
PRINCESS
You can also be a mother in law and father in law at the same time.

They laugh.

HOMER
We’ve made a mark difficult to break.
MIMI
It’s easy to laugh of other people’s misfortunes.  I’d lie to see you in my place.
HOMER
You can do nothing about it now.  You must accept things as they are.
MIMI
It wasn’t all right for me.
HOMER
You’re beautiful anyway.
MIMI
It’s a consolation, handsome.
PRINCESS
Let’s go to the hairdresser’s now.

Dear friend.

You are interested in the crime of the green house.  That’s my prison and I want to tell you everything I’ve seen or heard.  Prepare yourself for a police novel.  Sit down in a familiar place with enough light so that your nerves can survive the impact.
Lieutenant Franklin has been my friend for a few motives.  First: he owes me three thousand pesos.  The second reason is personal.  It seems to be my maid’s fault, who shows signs of malignant pregnancy.  As if that wasn’t enough the lieutenant is keen on taking trips with LSD and marihuana.  That’s why we see each other often.
You must have seen his name in the papers, linked with the crime in the green house.  He’s the DASS chief in the city.  He studied in an academy in Bogota and specialised in Panama and Houston.
He started at the beginning, like police narratives entail.  If they begin at the end, we’ll know who the murderer is and it won’t be good for the novel.
I meditated in my room, with my head low and my feet high as it is done in yoga.  I had been doing that after a neighbour told me it was the best thing for headaches.
At first she was right.  At first I had a headache, but then it spread all over the body.  Stupid woman.
As someone knocked on the door, the noise echoe4d all around my body and made my muscles crumb.  I tried to straighten myself but it was no use.  What can I do now? I thought as my bones clanked.  Would I have to live with my head down from now on? It can’t be good or other people would do it.
I heard the knock on the door again.  As I said ahhhhhhhhh, my mouth turned just like the rest of my body.
Then I heard the maid’s voice.
“Mr. Mario.  The lieutenant needs you.”
“Come in Natalia,” I managed to mutter.
As she came in, she looked at me in a funny way.
“Why are you standing on your head?” I asked.
“I’m sorry Mr. Mario but you’re the one doing that.”
“Can you help me?”
A bit pregnant by the lieutenant, as I’ve said before, the woman helped me to take another position.  I breathed deep.
“What lieutenant?” I asked.
“The boss of the DASS wants to talk to you.”
“So early?”
She shrugged.  “It’s eleven thirty in the morning.”
“The sun’s just rising for me.  Can you please bring me a double aspirin?”
The tablets made me better.  I understood that the neighbour was a liar.  I threw the book of exercise and yoga away.  It hit the wall and broke a decoration from a nearby table.
As I looked out of the window, I saw a beautiful day.  I breathed deeply.  The fountain in the garden filled everything with freshness.  The beautiful blue birds tried one of their songs.  They had never managed to utter a song before.  I prefer to put false birds in a cage because the real ones will never sing anyway.
I pull the curtains by now.  I don’t want you to know the intimate details of my excursion into the bathroom.  I had a shower while singing the factotum of the Barber of Seville.
After I came out of the bath, I rang the bell by my bedside table.  The waiter answered.  “Can I help you sir?”
“Bring the lieutenant in the room.”
Lieutenant Franklin Achicaroy is a bright young man.  He wants to be a captain of the most brilliant units.
“Good morning,” the lieutenant said.  “Do you know the latest news?”
“What clothes do you want to wear today? The waiter interrupted.
I shrugged.  “You must have confused me with information.  Please dial 12”
“Stop being stupid Mario,” he said.  “Don’t you want to show me your detective aptitude?
“Me?” I asked.
“Don’t you remember the aguardiente on Friday at the bar?”
“Me?”
“Can’t you say something different?” he said.
“I haven’t seen you for two weeks.”
He shrugged.  “You must be drinking the strong stuff.  You have lakes in your memory.  They’re good for the fishing club.”
“Want clothes do you want to wear today?” the waiter interrupted.
I was very confused at that moment.  I tried to make things better by saying:
“I was pretending to have amnesia.  I want to show you my detective aptitude.  None of the novels of Agatha Christy have defeated me.  I can tell you by the second chapter who the killer is.”
“You swore me that von Friday.  Now I want to test your skills.  Get dressed.”
“What do you want to wear today?” the waiter asked.
“Bring me one with police colours.”
….? He muttered.
“Don’t you see the colour of this one?”
…?
“Olive colour,” I said.
I looked at the lieutenant.  “I imagine policemen also eat breakfast.  What do you want?”
“What do you have?” he asked
“Cook some eggs for him,” I told the waiter.
He told me during breakfast what he knew of the case.
“Did you know doctor Nataniel Cerezo?”
“Ummm,” I mumbled.
“He was a middle aged man.  It’s not strange you haven’t heard of him.  He was a loner.  He didn’t have any family or did any bad things.  He worked most of the time and slept in a nearby pension.”
“What happened to him then?” I asked.
“The woman who washes his clothes knocked on his door this morning.  He didn’t answer.  In sixteen years he had lived there he had seldom been at home.  She came back later, and as she knocked on the door, the ambulance men arrived.  Doctors at the hospital needed him to administer anaesthesia to a patient.    The called all the clinics but he wasn’t anywhere.  All the results were negative.  Then they informed the police.  They forced the door and found the man’s body.  He had been strangled.  You can come with me after breakfast.”
“Haven’t you been there?” I asked.
“No, I want you to solve the mystery.”
He led me to the police van.  A tyre went bust a few minutes later.  He didn’t have another one, and new had to walk.  The house where the doctor had lived                                                                                                                                                                                                                  was green and amorphous.  I didn’t know whether the colour was natural or if it was caused by mould.  I saw a door on both sides of the building.  The one on the left led into the Martinez family residence, while the one on the right had belonged to the doctor (look at the map)
The door had been left half open while a dozen people stood around it.  After pushing and jostling with the onlookers, we managed to get inside.  We saw that someone had stolen the lieutenant’s plaque.
The house had two rooms.  The first one went onto the street.  It had an old desk, a wardrobe without the mirror and two wooden seats.
The second room joined the other one by a high hole.  It had a single bed, with a broken leg, which had been repaired with a box that served as a bedside table.  It had a muddy floor and no windows (look at the map)
I saw the man on the beds.  He was small, overweight and bold.  He lay on his back, with a tie around his neck.  His big, opened eyes seemed to look for something in the dirty map of the ceiling, where I saw a few wet spots.  On the opposite side to where he looked, I found a square hole.  It must have been the way to the attic.
I forgot to say that within this room, I saw a small section with a sink and a bucket.  It must have served as his bath (see map)
As I looked at the room, I saw a bar of soap, a tooth brush without any hair, like his head and a pair of old pants.
I forgot to tell you that the body was naked and I couldn’t see any signs of struggle in the room.  Perhaps the doctor had been taken by surprise.
I saw a few forensic policemen in the first room examining everything, and looking for fingerprints.  The permanent judge arrived at the second room to take the cadaver away.  I stood to one side looking at the scene and trying to figure something out with my powerful brain.  I took my pipe out of my pocket and remained as a partial observer.

The doctor diagnosed death by strangulation with the tie. It had happened between eleven and twelve of the night before.

They saw that it was unusual tie.  It had a zip that would strangle a tough horse.  The lieutenant took it out of the corpse and handed it to the technician to be analysed in the laboratory.
A few boxes with the known smell of money had been examined, as well as the rest of the room.  They found holes on the floor and a nearby box of bocadillos, smelling of old money bills.
“It’s clear,” the lieutenant said.  “They killed him to steal his money.
I looked at them professionally and blew three times on my pipe.  I interrupted the scene.
“Excuse me, my lieutenant.  Did the doctor use to inject himself?”
As they all looked at me, I acquired an air of superiority.  The lieutenant looked at me confused, but the doctor wrote down: the injection was administered just before he died.
“You must pardon me,” the lieutenant said.  “I promised you Mister Mario, who is a kind of Sherlock Holmes, but without a hat and smoking a pipe.
I introduced myself to everybody, keeping a professional silence.  Then with the pipe in my lips and hands in my pockets, I went about the old rooms.
The dead man had to be a solitary neurotic.  By the details gathered before we went to the green house, I knew the dead doctor worked very hard.  He ate breakfast, lunch and dinner in the hospital.  He owned the damp apartment and kept his money in the old boxes.  They killed him for the money.  That’s the first conclusion I reached, but who had done it?
I wewnt to talk to the policeman by the door.
“Can you tell me how was the door closed, when they found him?”
He shrugged.  “It had a stick placed horizontally.  He looked from behind the door and showed me a thick wooden stick, broken in two pieces.
“Did you break it?” I asked.
“Yes, sir, he replied.  “We had to put a plank.”
After the inspection and giving a few knocks to my pipe, I called the lieutenant.
“I have to go now,” I said.  “Some friends wait for me at the bar Cana de Oro.  We are going to eat lunch there”                                                                                               I went out and hailed a taxi from the corner.
I didn’t see the lieutenant for three days and had almost forgotten the dead of the green house.  The papers didn’t mention it much, and had been reduced to a common crime.  I was in love with Patricia in those days.  I had a very good taste, as you could hardly compare her to the dead man with the frog eyes.
The lieutenant appeared again.  He had acquired the horrible costume of getting me up before eleven o’clock in the morning.
“I wonder what has happened to my dear Sherlock Holmes,” he greeted.
“I’ve discovered,” I said.  “That Conan Doyle was a liar.  Sherlock Holmes suffered of terrible hangovers.”
He shrugged.  “I want to know who the liar is.”
“Stop annoying me,” I said.  “Stay for lunch and we’ll dedicate ourselves to the criminology in the afternoon.”
We went to the court after lunch.  The lieutenant didn’t know a few things and we had to know how the investigation was going.
The court was on a third floor.  We had to walk up there because the lifts were out of order.  The narrow staircase looked dirty.  The office of the judge had a decrepit table, two horrible chairs and a desk full of smelly papers.  I saw large snakes slithering through the floor, while big cockroaches flew about.
At first we thought the office was alone, but as the lieutenant removes a cobweb with his hand, we discovered a man asleep on a chair.  Some birds had built their nest on the man’s hair.  They were busy feeding a few babies.
The lieutenant didn’t let me wake him up.
“I belong to the society of prevention of cruelty to animals,” he said.
We had to wait for the birds to finish feeding their babies, before moving it to another place.  Then the lieutenant took the nest to a tree where it would be safe from predators.  It was already four o’clock in the afternoon, when we could awake the judge.  It took two hours for us to wake him up.  When we asked him about the murder, he said the office had closed.  He went home to sleep.  Next day at ten o’clock in the morning, we arrive at the office.  The birds had brought their nest back to the head of o-ur great man.  I found a gun in a corner and killed the birds, while awakening our sleeper.  I shot a few other bullets.
“Good morning,” he said.  He took a bullet out of his ear.
“We want to know what happened with the murder of Dr. Cerezo,” I said.
“Cerezo?” he asked.
“The doctor that was murdered,” I said.
He yawned.  “Murdered…ZZZZ …..
After three hours of shaking and shouting, we woke him up just in time for his lunch.  We found him awake that afternoon.  As soon as he saw us, he gave us a ticket for our capture and incarceration.
Next day they took us in chains to his office, where he condemned us to the guillotine.  Four hours later, as a new guard came in, I said to the judge.
“We don’t have a guillotine here.”
“What the hell is that?” he asked.
“You’ve condemned us to it.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Mr. Judge.”
He gestured to the guard.  “Let them go.”
We were freed.  They gave back to the lieutenant his gun and spade.  That night we celebrated with a good marihuana trip.
A few days later, the lieutenant woke me up early.  He came into the room like a Caribbean tornado.
“Wake up, wake up.”
I sighed.  “Ummmmmmmmmmm?”
He made me put my pants on.  I had to beg him to let me wash my mouth.  We didn’t have any breakfast.
A police car waited for us by the door.  The driver drove away fast as soon as I shut the door.  In a few minutes we had arrived at the green house.  A crowd of people had congregated by the front door.  The lieutenant had to look after his medals, but someone stole my wallet.
A few minutes later, we managed to go to the same damp room, where we had been before (look at the map)
We had gone back in time.  My friend Icaro was right.  Time travel was indeed possible.  We found ourselves at the same moment as two weeks before.
The scene had not changed.  We saw the same bed, the same boxes and the same dead man.  I saw everything turning around me as my friend, the lieutenant fainted.
The forensic doctor came in the room.  He passed out on the lieutenant.  I think that I also fainted.
It was a big surprise.  Dr. Cerezo had apparently died twice , strangled by the same tie, while the boxes lay on the same place on the floor.  We didn’t know what to say after we had recovered from the shock.
“I have already seen this dead man,” the forensic doctor said.  Then he ran out of the room.
The lieutenant went after him, and didn’t some back.
“It must be the devil,” someone said.  Everybody else left the room.
I found myself alone with the cadaver.  The people at the door had also gone away.  I had in front of me the same dead man of two weeks before.  He’d had an intravenous injection before passing out.  I could see the bruise near the elbow.  I found my pipe and sat down to think about it.
At that moment, I heard a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I said.
A middle-aged woman opened the door.
“I’m the neighbour,” she said.
“Ayyyyyyyyyyy!” she exclaimed after looking at the body and fainted.
He wore the same tie as the other man had done two weeks ago.  Someone must have taken him out of the vault.  He had to be rotten after being dead for fourteen days.  How had he done it?
The woman cried on the floor.  I saw a glass of water and emptied it on her face.  She opened her eyes nearly as much as the dead man’s.
“There must be an explanation,” I said.
The woman gestured at the dead man with her finger.  “I knew he had a pact with the devil.  I’ve heard the sound of chain, as someone cries.  He’s the devil.”
I inhaled my pipe, where I had put a bit of marihuana.
“Madam,” I said.  “The devil doesn’t exist.”
“What’s that then?” she asked.
She gave me a dirty book.  I read in its dirty cover: how to communicate with the next life.  Spiritualist conference number thirty four.
“I found it in one of the drawers,” she said.  “The first time that devil died.  I can understand now the strange illness my youngest daughter had.  First she had diarrhoea and pain in the abdomen.  A few days later she died in spite of all my prayers and the opium water I prepared for her.  My husband had an operation two months ago and is still in bed.  My oldest son is in jail.  The other one is a student.  He fell down from his bike and broke his leg.  I know now that we lived next to the devil the whole time.  He didn’t like to spend his money in anything.  He used it to go to spiritualist sessions every week.”
After her speech, she crossed herself while mumbling prayers.
“I’m bringing Father Correa to exorcise this house and vanquish all of its demons.  I’m sure the dead man will disappear on contact with the holy water.  You can’t find a Jesus Christ  or a saint image in this house.  How could he live like this? San Martin of Porres is very miraculous.  Have you bought his broom?” She said.
I shrugged.  “I use an electric vacuum cleaner.”
“You don’t understand me, doctor.  Saint Martin sells very miraculous brooms.  My friend Lucia won ten tangos at a competition, after she bought it.  Isn’t it good?”
“I don’t like tangos,” I said.
“Well, I don’t like them too much.  They’re a bit sad.  I like better then porros and cumbias.  When are you coming to the kiosk of communal action? We dance there every Saturday and eat a wonderful sancocho de gallina.  We also have a good discotheque.  My poor Juan is bed ridden so I go there on the weekends.  I have to have a life too.
“Of course,” I said.
“The dead man goes to the hole on the ground while we enjoy ourselves.  That’s why I keep so healthy.  I also say all of my prayers and the thirty eight credos.  They’re very good for my rheumatism.  I don‘t want to sound mean, but why does anyone like the dead man ever lived.  He died twice because he didn’t like to spend his money.  He didn’t even attract any women.  I have a very pretty friend.  I brought her here under many excuses.  A few times she had pain in the stomach, and once because she had period pains.  He never proposed to her, because he didn’t want to spend any money.  He lifted my skirts sometimes but I stopped him.  I can’t become pregnant now, with my husband confined to his bed.  We’re hungry and the stupid man wanting to enjoy himself.
I could have looked for his money many times if I had wanted to, as I had come here while he worked.  I never imagined he kept his mattress full of money.  Perhaps a tramp has his money now.  I’m a good woman.  My mother…”
In felt a pair of eyes looking at my back amidst the woman’s conversation   The4 woman stopped talking and also turned around.  We saw the dead man standing before us.
Everything disappeared around his plump figure with shiny bold head and unbuttoned coat.  He said something while looking at me.  I couldn’t understand anything.
He took out the necklace from the dead man’s neck.  They were identical and moved at the same time, like puppets controlled by strings.
“Can you tell me what are you doing here?
The two of them spoke at the same time.
I tried to get up from my chair as the woman cried.
“Dr. Cerezo.  I’m glad you’re alive.  I thank God and Saint Maerin that you’re still alive.
“What are you doing here?” the two cadavers asked.
I was stuck to the chair, otherwise I would have fled.  I gestured to the dead man.
“What is he doing?”
We’re serious people,” he said.
“Then why…”
He shrugged.  “I can do what I want in my own home.”
I picked up my pipe from the floor.  “I’m leaving now.”
The woman followed me like a somnambulist.  The doctors Cerezos followed us to the street door.  After we left, we heard as they put the stick across it.
“This is the devil,” she said and ran away.
I didn’t know where to go and took refuge in the first coffee shop.  I looked happily at all the people sitting at the tables.  None of them was double.
“An aguardiente,” I said.
I thought of the two doctors Cerezo.  They both looked the identical to the one who had died two weeks ago.  Perhaps they had made a few of them.  Perhaps they liked to strangle themselves.  It had to be a family tradition.
“Give me a double aguardiente,” I said.
As I went back to the police station, I saw lieutenant Achicanoy with his feet in hot water.  He looked pale and sick.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello,” he replied.
I sat down next to him.  He gave a paper written in a typewriter.
“Read that,” he said.
Alcoholic anonymous
Dear Mr. President
I’m a great consumer of the favourite drink of the province.  I must have contributed to the keeping of a few schools.
Mr. President, I swear to you that I’ll never touch the stuff again.  It doesn’t matter if a few children are left without school.  Something weird happened to me today.  I promise to you that I’ll never drink alcohol in my life.
You must order one of your patrols to come here to gather what is left of me.  The whole of my body will always hate alcohol until the day I die.
“Help,” he shouted.
I signed under my friend’s signature and we both started to cry:
HELP! HELP! HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After they had tied us, they took us in the ambulance to the mental hospital.  They gave us urgent electric shock therapy.  We read the headlines of the papers the next day.  THE CRIME OF THE GREEN HOUSE
The case of the doctor who dies twice.  A sensation in Palmira and in Colombia
There were a few photographs of the dead man in all the positions.
A subtitle underneath
Dead man disappears.  The second tomb will be opened today in search for the first cadaver.
They narrated all of the incidents, without mentioning what the woman and me had seen.  According to the doctor there had been an epidemic of hallucinations.  They had brought a woman with a tale a bit more complicated than ours.
They made us knit hats afterwards.
We had electric shocks therapy, injections and knitted hats everyday.  We read the papers when we had some time.  We found out the result of the exhuming of the cadavers.
Doctor Cerezo was dead.  His body had decomposed.  The apparition of the second dead man was due to evil powers.
We had the declarations of a scientist from the local university.  Here they are:
“What is your opinion Dr. Rucha of what happened in Palmira?”
“I’m giving my opinion as a scientist I’m recognised by the following universities: Yale, California, West Point, Rochester, Harvard, Florida, Washington St. Francisco, Los Angeles, Massachusetts, Lima, Buenos Aires, Rio de Janeiro, Salamanca, Madrid, Cordoba, Florence, Rome, Cordoba, Tel Aviv, Naples, Ganges, Tokyo, Yokohama, Honk Kong, Manila, Taipei, etc.  I believe it necessary to formulate a hypothesis with scientific value, as corresponds to someone like me.  I’m the greatest since scientist since Einstein.  My influences will go beyond this century and into the future world.”
“What is your hypothesis Dr. Rucha?”
“The dead man lived in sin when he was alive.  That’s the equivalent of not living.  It’s just as HE said: I’m the truth and the life.  As we can appreciate God is life, and whoever doesn’t live like him is not really alive.
“What happen with Dr. Cerezo?”
“He was a sinner.  His body died first and then his soul died.  The second cadaver couldn’t be found because we had seen the soul.  God had made it visible to mortal eyes.  God had made it visible as an example to us.  He marked us with his cross.”
“What’s the solution?”
“We have to have five prayers in different days in the mountain with the three crosses, to beg St. Benito who knows about these things.  He has to protect us with his experience to take us to God’s kingdom.
We had the peregrinations over the next few days proceeded by the archbishop and Dr. Rucha.  They covered themselves with ashes and wore old clothes, while some people went up to the three crosses in their knees.  They remained like that for the rest of their lives.
Five days later, we left the mental hospital.  They sent us home to knit hats.  Our peaceful knitting afternoon was interrupted from time to time by the penitents’ footsteps.  The president of the republic, wearing a dark, the city major, the cardinal, priests and the rest of the population did the penitence.  Schools and universities shut down and pupils accompanied by their teachers prayed and did penance.
I started to mix the knitting with aguardiente.  Then I wrote the following letter:
Mr. President of Anonymous Alcoholics
Dear president
After I had a few electric shocks and knitted a few hats, I felt all right.  You must forget my past letter, due to my mental state.  I’m giving my place to the bishop, who can drink as much wine as the penance lets him.  He must have his liver in an advanced state of putrefaction.
Sincerely yours.
The lieutenant arrived as I was going to sign.  He put his signature next to mine.
He was euphoric.  He slapped the maid’s bottom and spoke of the paternity law, without mentioning the president’s ancestors.
“Let’s go to the house of horrors,” he said.
I smiled.  “Let’s go.”
As we left the building, the sun set behind the mountains.  The lieutenant told me that the sun sets behind the high peaks of the west.  We needed a compass to establish whether it was dawn or sunset.
The sun set much later and we still had not reached a conclusion about the mountain peaks.
The doctor’s house had been abandoned by its inhabitants.  It was empty.  The neighbours had placed candles by the door to stop the devil arriving.  The lieutenant switched on his battery operated torch..
The house looked more frightening than usual.  We looked behind our backs after every step we took, to make sure the cadaver didn’t chase us.  Then we heard a noise.  Something was coming near us.  The lieutenant took out his revolver colt number X- 3486765896098 and shot into the darkness.  PUM……..PUM!!!!!!!!!!!!.......MEAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!...............................

The cat ran away. It didn’t give us time to write down his race and identity card number.

We saw him at that moment.  He wore the same clothes, tie and glasser.  He had a plastic plate with a bit of milk in his right hand.
“Can’t I feed my cat without policemen annoying me?” he asked.
The dead man could be seen very clearly in spite of the darkness.  A few minutes before, the lieutenant’s torch and gun had fallen down on the floor.  Perhaps the light bulb had gone off.
“I, doctor…..” said the lieutenant.
“Gentleman,” said the dead man.  People keep on annoying me.  They have my whole apartment smelling of sacristy.  They have ruined my furniture, and can’t I feed my cat a bit of milk before I go to sleep?”
I drank half a bottle of aguardiente while the dead man spoke.  The lieutenant drank the rest in one gulp.
“My house is not a bar.  I don’t want drunk people to shoot in here.  I have my rights as a cadaver.”
He looked at us full of hate.  After putting the p[late on the floor, he took a syringe from his pocket and injected it into his elbow.  He lay down on his back, and with both hands he moved the mechanism of his tie.  Chic, chic, chic, chic, it went as it compress his neck with force.  His face went purple.  He convulsed as bloody saliva ran down his mouth.  His lips contracted as if he talked, until he was rigid.
His skin filled with big bubbles, while a smelling liquid came out of them.  His abdomen started to swell until it exploded.  It smelled disgusting, as worms swam in his eyes.  We could glimpse the skeleton appearing amidst the remains of his flesh.
The cat appeared.  He looked at us for a few moments, before licking the milk.
“What are you looking at?” a voice said.
It was the same voice we had heard a few minutes before.  The doctor appeared with a [plate in his hand.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.  “Are you dumb?”
“Yes…” I managed to say.
The cadaver put the plate on the floor, while whistling a out of fashion song.  He took a syringe out of his pocket and proceeded to inject the vein in his left elbow.  Then he lay down on the floor.  We left the room very fast and found the cat by the door.
We didn’t say anything on the way back home.  That night I finished knitting my hat.  I dedicated it to the president of Alcoholic anonymous.
The mystery of the Green House ends here.  Jaramillo, the Antioqueno who bought it has painted it a shining green colour.  It looks bewitched in the night time.
Doctor Cerezo stands by the door, selling tickets for his performances, closely monitored by Jaramillo.
Last time I assisted to the function I had to book the tickets one month before.  The house has been rebuilt and is very big now.  Lots of people fit in the ground floor and many others in the balconies.
I think that he wants to go on a tour of Europe now.  I haven’t read police novels again.

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT A sailor moves with a tray full of drinks. At first sight he looks strange. Then he looks even stranger. He has long arms, and hairs sprout from under his clothes. He walks with bow legs. He has an ape’s face and wears a sailor’s hat. He moves across the ship and disappears in the shadows.

The scene is deserted as the machines and the waves roar in the background.  An old man wearing a suit with many decorations moves across the ship.
He has a big stomach, a wide forehead and wears a pair of glasses.   He has under his right arm four books and three under the other one.  He sighs and sits on the books.

CUT TO EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT Another old gentleman appears. He’s thin, bold and has a suitcase. He’s also wearing a suit full of decorations.

He looks at the other man.
FAT PROFESSOR
Hello.


Hello.
THIN PROFESSOR
Why are you sitting there?
FAT PROFESSOR
Who?
THIN PROFESSOR
You.
FAT PROFESSOR
Am I sitting down?
THIN PROFESSOR
Of course you are.

The fat man looks at his feet and nods.

FAT PROFESSOR
Thank you.

He stands up and sits on a chair. The thin man sits in another one and calls. A sailor appears and bows.

THIN PROFESSOR
Can you bring me a table, please?

The sailor bows. He goes out of the scene. A middle-aged woman wearing a long dress and with a child in her arms appears. The child also wears a suit with decorations.

WOMAN
Good evening, wise men.

The men stand up. They kiss her hand and smile to the child. The hairy sailor appears. He puts a small table in front of the thin professor (second man) He puts his bag on the table. The hairy sailor bows. Then he leaves the scene. Homer appears. He wears a suit with decorations. He coughs.

HOMER
I beg your pardon, wise men, for interrupting your thoughts.

They all stand up.

FAT PROFESSOR
We had never seen a ship as luxurious as this one in our lives.
THIN PROFESSOR
We have never been introduced to a real marvel, dear Homer.  That’s the truth.
HOMER
Don’t exaggerate, please.
THIN PROFESSOR
Our words have a lot of precision.  They’re like mathematical formulae.

Homer caresses the child.

HOMER
How is the infant today?
WOMAN
He’s all right today.  The diarrhoea has gone away.
.HOMER
It’s not easy to find three novel prize scientists in a ship like mine.
FAT PROFESSOR
We had been promised a trip of pleasure and rest.  We have found both of those
things, Homer, but you wanted to show us something else.
HOMER
I never said I would show something marvellous.  It’s just a bit different.  Who
could imagine that I’d have the famous professor Irwin in my ship?
EVERYBODY
Nobody would believe it.
HOMER
Professor Irwin wants to show to the world that he’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.

After she opens her dress, she starts to breastfeed the child.

HOMER
We have to wait for him to grow up, before he tells us where he left the formula.
FAT PROFESSOR
We looked in Professor’s Irwin’s laboratory when he became a child.  We could
never find any formula.  I saw a bottle with a yellowish liquid.  I drank it all and
got drunk.

Everybody laughed.

THIN PROFESSOR
Did he tell you about his experiment?
FAT PROFESSOR
We were in constant communication.  He started his experiments four years ago.
HOMER
Tell us more about it, please.
FAT PROFESSOR
The woman should know more about it.  I knew that he had a theory to make
humans and animals younger.  He told me in his last letter that he had nearly
finished his formula.  He only had to sort out a few more details before it was
ready.

The woman puts the child against her shoulders. She laps his back gently.

WOMAN
I never imagined I would be feeding a baby at my age.
HOMER
You’re lucky that it is your husband.
WOMAN
He likes to eat a lot.

After caressing the child, she put him on her other breast.

WOMAN
The day before the tragedy, he told me that he knew the result of his investigations.
He wanted to keep it all in secret.  People invent medicines for getting younger
every day, but they never work.
THIN PROFESSOR
If the other medicines were any good, I should in my mother’s womb by now.
FAT PROFESSOR
You’re an orphan.
THIN PROFESSOR
I wouldn’t mind any other womb then.

They all laugh.

HOMER
We can’t just talk without drinking anything.

As he claps his hands, the hairy sailor appears.

THIN PROFESSOR
Coca cola
FAT PROFESSOR
Coca cola.
WOMAN
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.

Homer makes gestures to a sailor. He bows and disappears through the door.

HOMER
Tell us the story, my dear lady.
WOMAN
That night before he went to sleep, he put a bottle with a milky liquid on the
bedside table.  He had a bath and before going to bed, 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.  I have just taken my formula of youth.  I awoke in the early hours
of the morning by a child crying.  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 had been a
joke.  I awoke the maids and we all looked for him.  The child was beautiful.  My
maternal instincts told me the truth.  It was my husband.  He had the same
birthmarks and the body I knew so well.  Then I remember the empty bottle.  It had
to be him.
FAT PROFESSOR
What did you do with the bottle?
WOMAN
What bottle?
FAT PROFESSOR
I thought you left it on the bedside table.
WOMAN
I don’t know anything about it.  I had to remember how to look after the infant and
forgot about the bottle.
FAT PROFESSOR

If you find that bottle, you’ll be a millionaire. You’ve thrown away a fortune. A sailor comes in with everything the y have ordered plus a bottle of whisky and soda for Homer. He bows and leaves. The child cries. As the woman covers her breasts, she finds the child has urinated on her dress. The child has also defecated.

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
This is a cruel story.  The professor worked for many years to get to his goal.
Look at him now.  He can’t even talk.
FAT PROFESSOR
He’s breastfed, during a discussion with his colleagues, and then he dirties his
nappy.
HOMER
I wonder where the bottle is.  I think that Professor Irwin drank too much of the
potion.  Perhaps he was nervous.  If he had tested the formula properly, he would
have made a fortune.
THIN PROFESSOR
We’ll. Have to wait until the child can talk.
FAT PROFESSOR
Will he remember anything?
HOMER
I think the child will collect balls and chew chewing gum.
FAT PROFESSOR
He’s wasted his time.
HOMER
Think in all the money he could have made.

A sailor comes towards Homer with a message in a tray. After He reads it, he gives instructions to the sailors.

HOMER
A helicopter will collect Professor Greer and his wife.
THIN PROFESSOR
Has Professor Greer married?
HOMER
He was single the last time I saw him.  I hope he has married a beautiful girl.
Scientists are boring.  I’d like a feminine touch on the ship.
FAT PROFESSOR
Marriage is not good for science as 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 a beautiful decoration.

THIN PROFESOR
Excuse me but I need to do a few things for my job.  You must kneel down on the
floor and pray, as I’m taking out of my bag the needle touched by baby Jesus’
nappies.  I have made on it all of my studies about angels.  They’ve brought me
international recognition.

They all kneel and pray as the professor holds the needle with a very white cloth. After he places it on a microscope, he focuses the instrument. They all stand up.

FAT PROFESSOR
Do you know about my colleague’s work?
HOMER
I have heard about it.  He can’t dedicate himself to what he really likes because of
his job.
FAT PROFESSOR
This man is the greatest professor of all time.
HOMER
I’m sure of that.
FAT PROFESSOR
Businessmen must learn of our activities.  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
looked for them everywhere.  He liked to get dressed with a tunic and wings
during Christmas time.  His pyjama reminds him of them.  Haven’t you seen hin
sleeping?
HOMER
I haven’t had that honour.
FAT PROFESSOR
He wears a long light blue gown and beautiful plastic wings with golden things.
He wears a blond wig that goes down to his hips.  He keeps a golden harp in his
bedside table.
HOMER
It’s very interesting.  Do you want another coke?
FAT PROFESSOR
All right.

After Homer claps his hands, a sailor appears. Homer whispers some instructions and the man goes away.

FAT PROFESSOR
He has always been interested by angels as I have told you..  he graduated with
honours in the theology faculty of Rome.  He wrote his thesis in old Latin.  No one
has been able to translate it, because it’s very old.  He won the Novel Prize for this
feat.  It’s one of a few books that have not been translated yet.  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 couplets of ten lines.  Nobody knows what it says, until
someone translates it.
HOMER
It’s very interesting.
FAT PROFESSOR
He has won the first prize in the history of science.  I think that being a genius is
an illness.
HOMER
That’s obvious to me.  Drink your coca cola.
FAT PROFESSOR
He is the boss of investigations into angels in the Vatican now.  He earns 2500
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 a genius like me and him.
HOMER
We’ll have to change that.
FAT PROFESSOR
He had been chased by this obsession since infancy.  He needed to clarify the
problem of the angel’s sex.  Did they have any sex? He had to answer that
question.  Are they men or women? He had a program of investigation to w3eaken
the toughest guys.
HOMER
It’s a heroic episode.
FAT MAN
That’s nothing.  His investigative technique puts him ahead of everyone.  How can
he see an angel?

HOMER
It’s a heroic episode.
FAT PROFESSOR
He thought the problem for twenty years.  One day he ran down the streets of Rome and shouting: Eureka! Eureka!
HOMER
What does it mean?
FAT PROFESSOR
I don’t know.  It’s another one of his fantastic words.
HOMER
What happened?

The woman appears at this moment. She has changed her clothes and doesn’t have the child.

WOMAN
Am I interrupting anything?
HOMER
It’s all right.  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 with the microscope.

WOMAN
Our wise man doesn’t belong to this world now, as I can see.
HOMER
Would you like to have some wine?

The woman sits down.

WOMAN
It has to be dry.

Homer tells the sailor.

FAT PROFESSOR

I told Homer of the extraordinary things the professor has done.

WOMAN
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
We were at the moment when he ran away naked.
WOMAN
Didn’t you know it6?
HOMER
I’m sorry, but my business…
WOMAN
I know.  You’re the busiest person in the world.
FAT PROFESSOR
That’s why he has his scientist friends.  We can tell him all of these things.
HOMER
I’m thankful to you.
WOMAN
It was first page news in all the papers in the world.
FAT PROFESSOR
It was on the same day as the Lucius 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 Piana Order eight days later.
HOMER
I like that opera.
WOMAN
The order Pieni ia not an opera but a papal decoration.
HOMER
Sorry, I didn’t know.
WOMAN
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
Our dear businessman had found a way to look at the angels.
HOMER
Really?
FAT PROFESSOR
It reveals how the mind is capable of demolishing all the barriers.  The professor
had to see angels, so he went somewhere with plenty of 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
As he discovered the way to the angels, he had a traumatic shock.  It made him run
naked through the streets of Rome in the middle of the day.  He remembered the
nappy of Christ kept in the Corraplitences Monastery.
HOMER
What a man!
FAT PROFESSOR
With a needle blessed by the pope, he took some faecal matter from the matter and
took it to his laboratories.  As 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 think 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 angel’s 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 microscopic on the head of the needle, he saw the dancing
angels.  On counting them, he saw that they danced by pairs.  He discovered male
and female angels.  We’ve known since then that angels had different sexes.
WOMAN
All honours in the world are not enough for such a genius.
HOMER
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 study under his protection for a vaccine against sin.  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 with my Donald Duck encyclopaedia.
THIN PROFESSOR
That’s a literary work of the twentieth century.  Everything else is nothing in
comparison with it.
FAT PROFESSOR
Than you.

Homer comes in.

HOMER
I have just spoken with the helicopter Mr. wise men.  Professor Greer is about to
arrive.

A sailor calls Homer.

HOMER
Excuse me, but I have to get him now.
They’re all busy as Homer leaves.  The thin professor is with his 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
They’re coming now.  Professor Greer came without his wife.
FAT PROFESSOR
They are on their honeymoon.  Perhaps he’s not jealous.  Did he come alone?
HOMER
No, he brought a friend.

A forty year old man appears accompanied by a young man, who wears light blue jeans, long hair, and a miniskirt over his trousers.

GREER
This must be a meeting of the seven wise men of Greece.
FAT PROFESSOR
And the eighth one has just arrived.

The thin professor is still looking through the microscope.

THIN PROFESSOR
I think the greatest financier of all times has just arrived.
HOMER
My dear professor, make yourself at home, or in your own ship.

They all hug each other. Mrs. Irwin kisses Greer in the cheek, while the young fiddles with his earring at one side

GREER
I’m giving you some news now.  We decided to marry before coming to the ship,
and this is my wife Ferney.  We’re on our honeymoon.

Ferney shakes hands with everyone. Then he sits next to Greer.

HOMER
I thought he was your friend.
GREER
He’s my wife.  Marriage between men is more common now, as you know.
FAT PROFESSOR
It’s accepted in most countries in the world.

Greer hugs Ferney.

GREER
I adore you my love.

The homosexual couple kiss and hug each other for a few moments. CUT TO EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT

HOMER
I thought it would get better here.  I need a girl.
WOMAN
Love is a wonderful thing.  I was like that with Irwin.
FERNEY

This is my first and last love. He sighs and presses a tiny handkerchief against his heart. Then he straightens his miniskirt. Greer kisses him.

GREER
You’re my only love.
HOMER
Let’s drink to this couple’s happiness.

He leaves.

THIN PROFESSOR
I’ve finished with my observations for today.  After I put this away, I’m going to
have some fun.

The thin professor picks up his laboratory equipment and puts them in his bag. He bows in front of the needle before touching it. Sailors bring food on trays as Homer comes back.

HOMER
We’re on our way to Gibraltar.
GREER
Hurrah to our host.
EVERYBODY
Hurrah!
HOMER
Let’s see.  The professors want coca cola and the lady wants dry wine.  What about
you, Greer?
GREER
Dry Jamaican Ron.
HOMER
And what does Ferney want?
FERNEY
I want sweet wine in rose water.  Everything else gives me a headache.
GREER
He’s as delicate as a flower.
HOMER
He looks like a plastic flower.
FERNEY
I can’t drink anything strong.  I have a very delicate stomach.

They all come to the table, except Ferney, who is applying make up on his face. Homer serves the coca colas while Greer pours Ron in a large glass.

THIN PROFESSOR
Professor Greer, don’t you feel sick with that strong drink?
FERNEY
Oh no, he’s a very strong man.  I adore him.
GREER
They’re bringing you a sweet wine, dissolved in water of yellow flowers.
FERNEY
Thank you, my treasure.
HOMER
Professor Greer, we have here the best men of science.  They’ll take charge of my
Philanthropic Foundation.

GREER
Dear ladies and gentlemen, I’m an assessor of Homer’s financial business.  He’s a
maestro of finances.
HOMER
Thank you.  Greer will explain the problem, so that you know your own functions.

Greg drinks some Ron.

GREEG
Homer is an economic giant.  We have decided to found the Philanthropic Society
in order to help you all, as the greatest men in science.  You’ll hasve one million
dollars a year for your activities.  We have decided to donate that money to you
instead of giving it to the tax.  We want to ask you for a favour before starting our
activities.
A million dollars a year is a lot of money, and Homer wants a small favour instead.
You’ll sign for us a receipt of five millions in exchange of the million.  This is not
a dirty business but a netter way for you to use your capital.  Homer can keep his
money, and he can find ways to evade taxes, but he wants to help science.

THIN PROFESSOR
I think that five million for one million is a lot of money.
FAT PROFESSOR
I agree with it.
WOMAN
I also agree.

Homer and Greer talk in a low voice. Ferney looks at the woman.

FERNEY
Where did you buy your dress?
WOMAN
I made it myself.
FERNEY
It’s beautiful.  I must learn to make my own clothes.
WOMAN
I can teach you whenever you want, dear.
FERNEY
Thank you.
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 Homer. Greer takes out a few documents from his bag.

GREER
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.
HOMER
Thank you.
FERNEY
You’re a dangerous man.
HOMER
Thank you.
WOMAN
What is the surprise?
HOMER
I had forgotten about that.  Excuse me for a moment.

He leaves the scene.

FERNEY
What a wonderful man.
WOMAN
He’s a real Mecenas.
FERNEY
What’s that, my dear?
THIN PROFESSOR
He was a man who used to give things to people.
FERNEY
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.
FERNEY
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.
FERNEY
Was it the full moon?
THIN PROFESSOR
No, it was the honeymoon.
FERNEY
I forbid you to talk about that.
WOMAN
Professor Greer is Gagarin then.

Greer is a bit drunk.

GREER
Excuse me.  I don’t like to gargle.
. WOMAN
It isn’t Gargarin but Gagarin.
GREER
Is that a medication for the flue?
FERNEY
No, honey.  He’s the discoverer of the moon.
Homer arrives with the strange sailor.  The hairy one we saw at the beginning of the screenplay
HOMER
I want to introduce Chucho to these prominent scientists.

The sailor bows.

HOMER
I think Chucho must be a surprise for my scientists.  Greet my guests properly
Chucho.

The sailor shakes hands with everyone.

HOMER
You must talk to them now.
CHUCHO
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.  It’s a pleasure for me to serve you.

They all applaud.

HOMER
You can ask him wise 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.  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 Capablanca.
EVERYBODY
Unbelievable!
Who won the boxing championship in the same year?
CHUCHO
Jack Dempsey.
EVERYBODY
AHHHHHHHH!
FERNEY
Tell me who won the Derby at Epsom in 1956?
CHUCHO
Lavandin.
GREER
Tell me the square and cubic root of 1.085.
CHUCHO
The square root is 32.94, and the cubic root is 10.28.
FERNEY
What is the highest mountain in the world?
CHUCHO
Mount Everest.  It is 8.848 meters high.
FERNEY
How tiring!
GREER
You don’t have a sailor here, but a calculator.
FAT PROFESSOR
He’s marvelous.
THIN PROFESSOR
He should be in the Academy of Science.
HOMER
Thank you very much, Chucho.  You can go now.

He bows.

CHUCHO
Yes Sir.
HOMER
What do you think about him?
EVERYBODY
He’s a genius.
THIN PROFESSOR
When did you find such a brain?
FAT PROFESSOR
He should be the director of the Academy of science.
FERNEY
He’s as intelligent as he’s ugly.
WOMAN
He’s not pretty.
THIN PROFESSOR
He could be from anywhere in the world.
GREER
I can’t believe he’s so intelligent.
FERNEY
They say that ugly men are very clever but it must have a limit.
THIN PROFESSOR
He has passed the limit in this case.  That face has a price.
GREER
It’s a contrast with Furney’s beauty.  It is beauty and the beast.
FAT PROPHESOR
He reminds me of a film.
FERNEY
Don’t go on talking or I’ll fait.
GREER
Here is your sangria.
FERNEY
I want a lot of water of yellow flowers.
HOMER
Do you think Chucho is super intelligent?
EVERYBODY
Yes.
HOMER
Chucho is a chimpanzee.
EVERYBODY
What?????
FAT PROFESSOR
A chimpanzee?
THIN PROFESSOR
A chimpanzee?
GREER
A chimpanzee?
WOMAN
A chimpanzee?
FERNEY
He’s a chimp.  How boring!
HOMER
He’s coming back wearing small swimming trunks.

The sailor appears in swimming costume. They see it is a chimpanzee, who shaves his face in the morning like anyone else. As he goes near Ferney, he faints in Greer’s arms. Everybody is very surprised.

FAT PROFESSOR
It must be the devil.
THIN PROFESSOR
The work of the devil.
HOMER
You can go now, Chucho.

Chucho leaves the scene after vowing.

GREER
Where did you find such a genius?
WOMAN
He might be an Antioqueno in disguise.
HOMER.
He’s a chimpanzee.  He’s at your disposition if you want to study him.  He works
for nothing as he wouldn’t know what to do with the money.  He likes soap.  He
eats it after making bubbles with his hands.
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 has been the author of such a phenomenon?
FAT PROFESSOR
It’s an attempt against human dignity.
HOMER
He’s a Colombian crazy man called Mario.  He’s a poor experimenter, who sold
Chuchu for very little money.

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 hit hard?
HOMER
He’s harmless.
FAT PROFESSOR?
Isn’t it too much money for a monkey?
HOMER
I can have the money I paid for him in one night.  I could arrange a series of
exhibitions all over the world.
FAT PROFESSOR
Why don’t you do it?
HOMER
I promised Mario I wouldn’t do that.  Chucho’s very useful here.
GREER
Homer knows about business.
FERNEY
I want more sangria with water of rose petals.

Mr. Homer
I consider myself an exemplary citizen.  Everyone has told you that and in the near future, they won’t change their opinion.
You are a good citizen but you only like to make money.  In Chucho’s case, money doesn’t really matter.
If you have any patience, I’ll tell you how I met the wise men, who trained such an intelligent animal.  I won’t charge you a single dollar for the service.  Congratulations.
It isn’t strange that the wise men did not feel any admiration for Chucho.  I believe wise men are like the extinguish dinosaurs.  They used to weight many tons but had a very small brain.
You don’t know me and after reading this you’ll know me even less.
I belong to the crazy minority who doesn’t want to waste life.  We believe that the day has twenty four hours and million of moments to enjoy.
You mustn’t cry for an inexistent future.  It has no dividends.
Once upon a time, I did a trip via LSD with a friend.  We boarded a small plane.  It was beautiful, with colours that spoke of interplanetary trips.  It had the transparency of a cloud and the softness of a young woman.  It could have gone beyond Jupiter, with its red clouds and mountains of fog.  We didn’t go any further than that.  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.
We woke up inside some bushes.  They had spines rather than leaves.  We had appeared next to a small plane I had never seen, and my body was full of scratches.
“Where are we?” I asked.
My companion threw earth on my face, as a rude way to show that we had landed.  A cold wind made me shiver as I was half naked.  We didn’t find anything useful inside the wreckage of the plane.  What could we do?
I remembered my practical knowledge of how to survive in the jungle but we were in a high mountain.  I had not taken that course.  We walked until we found a small river.  It as it had to go somewhere, so we followed it.  Small rivers don’t talk much and I talked to my friend instead.  We thought we had been in the small airplane, but we couldn’t prove it, as none of us could fly these things.  Apart from the small river, we didn’t find anyone else.
On looking at the stars we found ourselves at twenty degrees longitude north and twenty two west.  It was day time.  That fact made our observations a bit difficult.
As we followed the small river, we found a bigger one.  It gave us a nice surprise.  We followed that one and found a much bigger river.  It happened a few more times.  Two days later we moved by the shores of a big river.
We didn’t find any people and with the exception of a few Hilton hotels. We seldom saw buildings.  Then we arrived at a nice and small town, inhabited by nice people.
As we got nearer, we saw the town inhabited but rude country people.  We had grown a bear and had brought some herb.  The campesinos confused us with trouble makers.  They shot their guns three times, killing two chickens of a heart attack.
They cooked sancocho with the three animals.  It really tasted of sancocho.
The town had been built around an idiot called patepina.  His right foot had elephantiasis and his left foot had mamutiasis.

On the first day in there, we met the queen of potatoes. Then we met the one of arepa without salt, and the one of arepa with salt. The queen of sausages and beans and the ones of green cheese, white cheese, cheese spread, free plantain, kumis, marmalade, yellow fever, rice and the mazato.

They promised to introduce me to a few beauty queens.
Don’t you have a couple of spare trousers?” I asked the major as he crowned the flower queen.  He interrupted his speech to send us to the priest, who was crowning the queen of first Fridays.  He sent us to the only shop in town.
We saw a very nice man a few moments later.  He had just crowned the yellow poncho queen.  He gave us wide trousers and narrow shirts, and we felt more comfortable.  We then crowned the queen of the wide trousers and narrow shirts, who was elected from 250 competitors.
We got in contact with Miss Lola, a local teacher.  She was queen only of the onion, the black bean, coffee, curuba and peanut.  The elderly teacher only wore three of the crowns on her head.  They made the base of the skull collapse a bit under the weight.
She was the gravitational place of culture in the town.  Every seventh of August she presented the battle of Boyaca.  It was so real that some times the Spaniards won the battle.  She showed us the school building.  We saw the first stone placed there in 1922.  The children had their classes in the filed, sitting on the grass.
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 men and women.  She consulter the education minister about that.  Two years later they gave her permission to have boys and girls.  She has been doling her work in the town since then.
Next day Miss Lola took us to see her school bus.  In spite of being so old, the bus was the pride of the town.  It put them in contact with the next town, where the train went past.  We congratulate the driver, who was 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 all wanted to know about the president of the country.  They looked unhappy when we told them it was the same one.  Then I met the doctor.  He wore a heavy poncho, and covered his bald head with a big straw hat.  He wore sandals like everyone else in the town.
They all greeted him, and then they introduced him to us as the doctor of the town.  The man didn’t say much, but he show an interest when we told him, the cardiac inserts had finished.  We couldn’t tell him much, but as the he drank, he started to talk more.  He invited us to sleep in his house.  We had to wait for three days.  It was indispensable to complete the bus ticket.
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.  We had awakened that morning next to the first stone of the school.  I went to sleep very quickly.
I woke up as something cold went over my nose.  As I jumped, I found myself in the middle of a vast patio.
“Ha, ha, ha,” a voice said.  “Margarita woke you up.”
I saw a big parrot laughing.  As I raised my fists, it said:
“I wished she had bitten your bottom.”
The animal was fun but I felt sorry for myself.  A bear went running under my legs and I fell on a turtle.  The parrot started to sing opera, as a monkey offered a banana to me.  I ate it while a fat iguana hunted 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 a tiger.  The parrot started to laugh again.
TA man wearing underpants appeared.  He greeted us while caressing the tiger.  He said he was sorry.  He was the doctor.
He spoke to the animal as if they understood Spanish, and for a minute he forgot all about us.  We didn’t have our clothes on.  He never had any visitors.  Margarita always slept in his room.  She had done her usual thing when she had slithered over my nose.  Margarita was the snake.
Then I went to the toilet where I met a nice caiman, who served as a table.  Chucho brought me breakfast.
The doctor told us his story afterwards.  I can give you a few fragmented details of it.  I’m sorry if I’m too long but I want to tell you as much about him.
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.

He died before his son had his degree and started to study dead people. The doctor didn’t eat much to pay for the university. Then he graduated and started to work in a hospital, where he had dinner for the first time in many years.

The future was not very good.  He had to find a job.  That’s the only way doctors can live up to the day they die.  He had been of the future up to now, and now he had to live in the present.
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 the nine floors to the office.  The secretary had forgotten her keys, and our friend, always a gentleman, had to go down to get them.  The girl had gone down to get her lunch when he returned, but left the message to come back at three o’clock.
The office was shut at that time.  The education minister had died of a heart attack after going up five floors.  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.  They sent him towards nowhere.
Someone told him to go to the trains.  They put him in contact with an architect Peres, who lived in Barranquilla and was the president of the society protecting yellow beetles.  He remembered this last thing as he looked for the architect.  He found the man on the beach, crying like a baby and next to a dead beetle.
After they buried the beetle, the architect informed him that they needed doctors in a town.  Everywhere else they had plenty of doctors.
A few days later he arrived at the central station.  He had a suitcase with a blood pressure monitor, a stethoscope and a small syringe.  He also had his degree document.
He went to the ticket window and said:
“Can I have a ticket for X statioin?”
The ticket seller looked at him up and down.  Then he did the same but down and up.
“You hat to be serious man,” he said while cleaning his nails.
I shrugged.  “But I need a ticket for X.”
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“Ye4s, I’m.”
The ticket seller went inside the office.  He came back a few moments later accompanied by two fat men and a skinny one.  Two women came behind them.  The ticket seller pointed to the doctor.
“There he is,” he said.
One of the young men removed his glasses before confronting the young man.
“Do you know what the punishment for jokers is?” he asked.
One of the women said:  “Don’t you feel ashamed with the boss?”
The other fat man commented: “What a terrible thing.”
A policeman appeared.  After he heard what had happened, he fell on his rifle and shot two rats taking the train to Girardot.
A crowd had gathered around our doctor by now.
“What’s happening?” someone asked.
“Why has the boss killed the rats?” another person asked.
Three minutes later they all punched each other.  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 ticket office.  She looked at him with her beautiful innocent eyes and asked:} Where is that?”
“I think you should know,” the young man replied.
She shrugged.  “I started to work here today.”
“Go and ask someone and give me my ticket,” the doctor said.
The young lady went inside the office.  An employee in uniform appeared a few moments later.  He asked the doctor to follow him.  They passed several offices where everyone talked, until they entered a big room, with a table in the middle of it.  A few men sat at the table.  They asked him to sit down and the one with more authority asked him:  “Tell me young man, why do you want to go to that town?”
“There is a town without a doctor nearby,” the young man replied.
“Why do you hate doctors?”
“No, sir,” the young man replied.  “I’m a doctor.”
“You want to live in town X.”
The young man 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 neighboring town,” the young man said.
The fat man went on talking to his colleagues.  “You can see the problems our country has.  We always have a crazy boy with the most unusual ideas.  Can’t we give him a job at our offices?”
An old man asked.  “What can you do?”
“I’m a doctor,” the young man replied.
“I want to know if you can do a real job,” the old man asked.
The young man shrugged.  “I know a bit of medicine.”
“I know,” the old man who had started to questions said.  He can work as a messenger.  Do you accept it?”
“Yes…” said the young man.
“Do you have a bicycle?” the first speaker asked.
“I can’t ride a bicycle.”
“What I had said,” the old man said.  “He can’t do anything.”
“Then I go to the town” the young man said.  “Sell me the ticket.”
The first speaker gestured to a man in uniform and the doctor was taken out of the room.  He waited by the ticket office for a few moments and then they called him back into the big room.   The director addressed hi:  “We want to help you, because you’re a poor doctor.  We’re giving you a free ticket to the town plus a hand grenade.  When the driver says you’re getting near to town X. you must explode it.  It’s the only you’ll ever have of stopping there.  If you don’t get there with this thing, you’ll never go there.
They gave him the ticket and the grenade.  It exploded and derailed the train, killing three neurosurgeons, who worked as rail keepers.
As he arrived at the town, he understood he could work with the clients of 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 sow was having her piglets and a baby was stuck across her abdomen.  The doctor helped with the delivery.  He became since then one o                                                                                                                     f the best doctor of pigs in the whole region.
Mr. Procolo admired the young doctor’s knowledge of pigs.  He consented for his daughter to live with him.  She was the owner of the house, where he lived with all kinds of animals.  His wife was one of them as she wasn’t very intelligent.
The pigs, the house of the old man, who had died soon after, and the intelligence of the young man had worked a miracle.  He had free twenty four hours in the day, after the consultations.  He dedicated himself to his investigations.  They were antisocial and had not future.  He was anti Edison.
The first discovery he made was necessary, urgent logic and difficult for the human mind to comprehend.  Even if you don’t believe it Mr. Homer but this is enough for our hero gets condemned to the electric chair, to the chamber of gases or to go around Marquetalia.
I will describe everything for you.  Our towns don’t have schools, hospitals, health centers, toilets or clean water.  The only water running through them is smelly and dirty.  There are millions of transistors and speakers, infecting the town with rancheras twenty five hours a day.  The priest puts four giant speakers on the church tower and the ones in the café in the corner, or 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 thousand of radi0o stations for square mile and each one of them has two programs: popular music and commercials.  One is left with five hundred radio stations of popular music and five hundred of commercials, that has to hear by force, even though one does not have a radio.
I had to show you the environment he had been submerged, in order to understand the greatness of the 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.  Everything was enveloped in the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.  The anti Edison had invented the anti transistor.
It was a small machine that stopped one from hearing everyone else’s transistors.  I can’t describe the sensation on switching on one of these things and hearing absolutely nothing.  I found myself before the greatest man in science, as far as I understood.  I asked permission to the tiger and licked his other shoe.
It didn’t stop there.  Just as he had found a way to stop radio waves, he had managed to tame all kinds of animals.
Our scientist decided we were just animal.  He sent away Gods, souls and angels.  Men didn’t have anything different to what we have: matter.  He did experiments with animals teaching them conditional reflexes.
He made traps that they had to open after acoustic or luminous signals, where they found, food, water or electric shock.  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, who did not know anything about the lights and electric shocks.  The results were very good.  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 as I can’t understand it.  I think you and your wise men will have a worse problem.  My friend tried to communicate with the Academy of medicine, and when they discovered that he treated pigs, they smiled.  They were angry when he told them of transmitting human knowledge into animals.  They went into their Mercedes Benz and drove away.  They wanted to take him to the saint inquisition.  In our country it means a fire waiting for us.
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.  You know Chucho, the chimpanzee.  He managed to buy from Antioquenos businessmen.   They 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.
He’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.
He 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.  He 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.  The turtles reproduce only when they’re asked to do it.  The iguanas have been domesticated and they’re hand fed.
He has a troop of multi colour mice.  They 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.  Because of the distance and isolation of the town they had left him alone.  Things seemed about to explode anyway.
I’m not a philanthropist but I gave him a few pesos, to finish with the danger.  I promised to sell Chucho.  You gave him a few dollars and our man’s situation improved for some time.
You can understand the failure awaiting the investigator.  To finish with the transistors is an attack against humanity.  To end with knowledge by injecting yourself or by manipulating radiant energy is the final collapse of humanity.
My wise friend 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.
Mario

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