and the men?: here and there. All to the advantage of Demetrio, who was recalling the moment he entered the Presunción brothel, yonder, that is to say, at the other end of the earth: in Oaxaca, oh, all those randy asses, who, compared with these Sacramento dolls, were hardly worth remembering. Moreover, one could conjecture that these beauties—so fair and so varied, glimpsed fleetingly and from afar—held the promise of many a hearty stew, each and every feature, but more of that later, hmm … Now for the most evident, the many eyes, and their honeyed looks above all … Perhaps up close Demetrio would find, if he decided to scrutinize closely, one or another telling detail: this one would make a good chorizo con huevos; that one was the queen of any of hundreds of pork dishes, and so on, but then came one: a goddess emergent, oh, and upon her his eyes settled—oh my!, he couldn’t stop staring at her, no, not even when the bride and groom arrived. Distractions? Not for him; for the others, perhaps. Unto himself: She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. He espied the striking green of her eyes from thirty feet away. A vague moan escaped his lips, accompanied by a slight quivering thereof, and the muttering of syllables: and: his aunt and mother caught a glimpse of his hidden indiscretion. They spoke to him.
Some claim that when one person stares at another, the other will finally stare back: thus it came to pass between them; a magnet or—who knows what! (whose plan?)—the green: the setting, and the bodies passing back and forth between them: furtive interruptions, but no real distractions, because of the focus and the commitment between she who had just arrived and Demetrio, wow!: a honing in, to such an extent that her parents, who stood with her, had words for her. Her mother nudged her arm, as did his mother over here. Here, not a word passed, but there, father and mother whispered and wagged index fingers. Now they were both obliged to look elsewhere, although their bond had already postulated a “hence,” referent to when the newlyweds initiated the dancing … Which didn’t take long—thank goodness! anon!, along with all the lauding and applause … As a result, it was as if an invisible machine suspended in midair were moving x number of males in pursuit of seated females. In the end there arose a musical dynamic that consisted of holding waists and taking steps. Eighteen couples—giving it their all! The movements were quite corny, waltzing, which would have looked even cornier if viewed from the top of any tree: a changing—and pretentious?—flower, or something of the sort, whatever occurs to you. Couple number nineteen was missing. Let’s watch Demetrio ask the aforementioned woman to dance. The parents looked him up and down, from head to toe. His wrinkled suit at night—consider the advantage of the dim lighting—wouldn’t matter even when they did notice, perhaps later. Anyway. Couple number nineteen’s steps were discreet: he was quite tall (almost six feet) and she rather short (what would you call five foot two?). Be that as it may, they never took their eyes off each other; moreover, and because of their somewhat awkward steps, they were continually bumping into other couples. Sorry here, sorry there, and sorry yonder. Their dancing deteriorated as they sidled over to the edge of the dance floor, which didn’t matter because first and foremost they had to introduce themselves: he took the initiative: his name, where he was from, his profession, his reason for being in Sacramento, and the unrivaled privilege of being face-to-face with a ranchera goddess … No, how could he use such an inaccurate adjective; he must remain cool …
And on they went. They danced four rounds.
Vigilant parents. No problems observed. His enormous bony hands made no mischief.
Before leading her back to her seat, he asked for her address so that he could write to her, from Oaxaca! The answer was a cinch: General Delivery, Sacramento, Coahuila. He carried no pen, so consigned it, effortlessly, to memory. Then came her name: Renata Melgarejo. Difficult. What a hodgepodge of a family name! Her given name: a bit odd, though sonorous. True, Mireya’s was more vivacious, but it was a whore’s name, whereas this one—how could he think of her? Decent: a bit; indecent: no, not that! Re-na-ta as opposed to Mi-re-ya. Purity tending toward impurity …