monster of somnolence: galloping up from behind: horrors! may it be warded off till the final period be penned. He sought it. It was a strain.
The signing off was a vulgar rapture. “Good-bye, my dear.” Why “my dear”? What a subconscious! Still to come was the most arduous prolongation of his perfectionist—yes, that is what it was—integrity: to copy over with more calligraphic care the entire odd chorizo. Further corrections, increased frenzy: on and on, in spite of himself, knowing that dawn would soon arrive and with it the daily grind. In the end Demetrio didn’t sleep a wink. Worse, he had no time to eat breakfast, either. Thus delirious, his mouth sour with fatigue, he forced himself to go (stumbling) to the orchard; he managed to remain upright for about three hours. Then he collapsed. We will not consign to these pages his period of repose in that tiny room crammed with tools, where his position could not possibly be horizontal. In the eyes of the peasantry in his employ, it seemed a bad omen: what’s up with the boss? he had always been a model of industriousness. What’s more, awaking quite giddy he casually stated that he was off to the post office. Almost in the blink and twinkle of an eye, followed by an almost improbably quick return that nonetheless did nothing to exculpate such inexplicable exhaustion, particularly in a person who regularly berated his subordinates with the oft-recycled harangue “Put a bit more backbone into it!” Catapult, now—a backhand? from them to him? No, not a chance. This strange behavior also included taking hour-long naps all week, well, a few seconds more or less; or rather: disorder, but also discipline. He took them at the wrong times: from eleven to twelve, smack in the middle of the workday. My, my! And his subordinates’ deduction (take it as a glitch): their immediate superior was staying up late on a daily basis, or even: he didn’t sleep, or very little, which was correct (for better or worse). In fact, to be precise, who knew. Who would know that he suffered all the stages of insomnia and that Renata was the true cause? Who would hear him lament: “I forgot to tell her the most important thing”: his trip to Sacramento—when? surely in August? Who would watch him write a second letter, this one more informative … I? or the one who makes presumptions while prowling around? Or another who never errs? Let’s go with the second, who was watching from who knows what angle as Demetrio wrote half a page with almost sickening care. A plethora of attempts. Why? As for his timid subordinates, they inferred nothing beyond what they could observe: the siestas and the subsequent parsimony at work. There was no second trip to the post office, not that week, nor the following. But here, on the possibly realer side of things, the evidence was evident: Demetrio had not had a chance to speak with his boss to find out the dates of his annual vacation in August, guaranteed by law—right? He needed urgently to know so he could tell Renata when he would come.
Nonetheless, the half page was ready as soon as … The real is always paradoxical, for the view from angle x can never be more than a partial perception … The meeting with his boss lasted an entire afternoon. The roughest part of the conversation is worth noting here:
“So, you have a girlfriend in Coahuila …”
“Yes, so it seems.”
“You’ll be able to see her only once a year, maybe twice if you use your Christmas break.”
“I’m in love and I don’t care if I can sustain the relationship only through frequent correspondence.”
“Hmm … You are a good employee. It would be a terrible shame for you to leave such a good job for a faraway love … Hmm … It won’t be easy for you to find another boss like me, one who trusts you like I do and pays you this well.”
“Don’t worry … For me, my job comes first. I am very happy working for you.”
“I hope you don’t lose your head, Demetrio: and remember, I’d even be willing to double your salary.”
Bull’s-eye! said on the sly … A substantial raise, without his even asking for it, and this in addition to the not negligible 15 percent—already granted! A delight to hear! And the question: when would he get the raise? and the answer: as of tomorrow …