sketches overhead a spectacular hunch. Thank you, Mama, for … Now to come up with a name for this business. A sudden about-face: a complete change of mood … A hunch, ready to pluck! … A fluke supported by a good dose of spunk (to wit, the so-called lucky star shooting sheets of lightning) to pound the pavement every day to find a well-situated locale in Parras, large—needless to say! and with easy access. Oh, uplifting resolve, which would in turn be the recipe for shedding light on all manner of dark corners.
And, off we go!
Enthusiasm never before seen: Demetrio was so eager he forgot the dross: sex for hire: the carrion of spectral silhouettism: blurred flesh: brutalizing pleasure: enough already! He left it all behind. Vomiting. Suffocation. And then, sacred love: Renata’s green eyes observing him from afar … Decency awaiting. His thrashings: part of vile prehistory, as is agronomy. The nature of (past) ugliness that he could spit out like so much chaff, and et cetera.
Right?
Another lapse? Another attack?
To hell with it!
Another future, then.
For Demetrio, December was a month of arduous work. Much was accomplished as if by dint of magic, because, well, we’ll mention only three things he dealt with: in less than a week he found a large locale to let, located in the heart of Parras, right on Ramos Arizpe, the town’s main thoroughfare; second, and related, was the hiring of two young men quite eager to work (for all of which his mother confidently forked out hefty sums); third was the most troublesome: the purchases, the trips to Monterrey in his pickup (now with a staked bed), in which Demetrio brought back three very fine billiards tables packed in thick cardboard—strategically flattened—as well as an abundance of billiards paraphernalia: cues, cue holders, cue supports, cue balls, timers, chalk, counters, lamps, boards: and imagine the trips necessary to purchase the dozens of little knickknacks. Then: dominoes tables, tons of chairs, two (long) wooden benches. The whole business was ready two days before New Year’s Eve for the inauguration (God willing) the first week of January 1948. By the way, we’ll mention that mother and son celebrated Christmas and New Year’s Eve dinner euphorically (and with a plethora of victuals, a lot of foolish nonsense). Doña Telma received epistolary best wishes from her faraway daughters: Merry Christmas and … tra-la-la … It would have been fantastic if they could have come to Parras for the holidays: but, impossible!; but, thanks: that word was written in two telegrams sent to Seattle and to Reno; but (once again), well, they were thinking of her and that should be enough to make the señora cry with happiness.
Exuberant start to the year. A new and dandy life—hopefully! The inauguration was held on January 7. A huge crowd of future deadbeat gamers attended. It’s probably better not to think about how much tolerance was needed to allow all those haughty maidens and matrons to attend the event; the women would not play, not then, not ever, because it was frowned upon, but, hey! this was a local social event, full of splendor and general approbation. Therefore, it was packed. And, moving on to a different role for the prurient, it’s worth pointing out what you’ve probably already figured: the primordial rule: there would be no gambling, no, none of that: make-believe at the service of gentle evening recreation. Let’s mention the hours of operation: from four in the afternoon till ten at night. Finally, the mayor was responsible for taking the first shot, he missed, but … the apology and then the rejoicing. Then the stentorian toast, and onward with sinful fascination!, it’s about time; many signed up to play in the midst of the racket; the women left once this got under way. However, ten at night: that’s all: remember! The most important part of the whole affair would take place in the following few days. They queued up, along almost half a block, to play. The first to get in wouldn’t ever want to vacate their tables. So we have to consider the numerous challengers. He who lost, left: and, back in line … outside? Some played and others didn’t; or, to be precise, there was always dominoes, though: a queue formed for that, too, a much shorter one, foolish challengers, about which: well, of course! we must point out that most of the clients were there for the billiards: a novelty: ergo: carambole rather than bravado or “La