mistakes in our investments. The pool hall must do well. We shall deem everything that came before a series of false steps. Now the appropriate precision, for there was no longer any choice. A vantage point from which to glimpse uninhibited growth. This is what mother and son talked about during their dinner for two: Every peso you spend is critical. Whence arose, in a sudden burst, the huge cost of everything wedding related: yes, yes, naturally, there must be a feast, but only for a few guests, but … ; as to the bridal gown, no pompous exhibitionism, no bloated presumption, but not a shoddy garment, either, something middling, but … ; as to the honeymoon: travel, hotels, meals in restaurants, oh, nevertheless, Demetrio thought they should choose one spot and there have their movie moments. A hotel, with a pool. Hopefully! He thought of Piedras Negras, the border town, who knows why. Not Sabinas, nor Monclova nor Saltillo nor Torreón, not Monterrey either or anywhere else. So Piedras Negras—why? Perhaps because it was a place nobody talked about … anyway, we’ll see … More and more discussion, never without Doña Telma’s insidious and recalcitrant warnings: Watch every peso you spend. This is our last chance. But strutting—even embellishing—his stuff, Demetrio rose from his chair and cited the dependability of his lucky star (and the blahblahblah started—oh mercy me!), insisting that anything he did was bound to turn out hunky-dory. All the more so because they had prayed for hours in the church, on their knees—right? remember how much pain there was during the prayers, and still they remained. So we can now move on to what happened in the following weeks. December came and, Congratulations! Christmas and New Year’s celebrations, quite delightful; January came and, Congratulations! February came and, a few ups and downs, but generally good, very good! We now find ourselves in March 1949, in full marvelous ascension. As far as the house goes, hmm, Amalia and María Fulgencia were exceptional; the same goes for Ángel and Aníbal in the pool hall. What splendid hires!
Let’s talk against the grain about Demetrio’s great confidence: mental adjudication: all white, maybe pink, but no other color loomed in his future, for sure: what he’d found, what he’d contributed, all could now finally be seen as rhizomic. No putrescence, therefore, need be descried—ever! And one day with perfect composure the big guy told his employees that he had to leave Parras: a four-day trip, five, six, maybe less. They would be responsible for the business, that is, everything ship-shape, same as they were doing every day, so much so that he sometimes didn’t even stop by. Which explained why he asked for details the following day, so he could deduce a precise picture of his assets. An uphill ride, as usual more difficult than downhill. But we were talking about his trip to Sacramento. In any case, Demetrio went to church without telling anybody. He prayed, just in case. The penitence was wretched, almost artful: on his knees, on the ground, and crawling toward the altar (such a show), his arms spread in the shape of a cross. The forced entreaty: what began with pain would have to end the same. The sacrifice was exemplary, though looking at it up close probably not necessary. It’s just that Demetrio wanted to avoid another robbery: No more robberies, My Lord, have mercy … Please listen to what I am saying, I am begging you fervently. A farce? Almost to a tee. How sincere could he be when at one point in the middle of a prayer Demetrio let slip an unintentional chuckle? Who knows what came into his head …
Anyway April arrived and with it the trip to Sacramento: of great importance. The scale of what he was about to carry out. First he asked Doña Telma for her blessing, and his mother, proud and empowered, hmm, crossed herself with aplomb, yes, well, you should have seen her, this fact alone made her feel grandiose, because she would remain in Parras more regal than ever. Did she also have a lucky star? While we’re at it, we all have one, it’s just that we don’t all think about it. Rather we think of God’s will, which is something else, or the saints’. But what we’d like to make clear here is that thinking about our lucky star, every day, would be a horse of a different color, as they say. One—yes or