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Objectives of the project ..

Speaking to more people and keeping in mind the example of the Golems I've also decided to give it a try, starting with deciding my goals ..

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-use consumer goods, thanks to new technologies and then in a word ricliclarare.

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Toothache And Anxiety

The occasion of the 24 th form - usually sings


© reproduction and use reserved

Howard received a letter one morning in early June. At first just did not notice that envelope folded in an envelope slightly yellowish, retired as the stack of letters from the mailbox and, without even browse, went to lay them on the trum in the entrance. Then he went out, distracted by his thoughts. Not before saying goodbye to his aunts and receiving in return the now habitual silence shady Lilian.
was one of those days that Providence reconciled with the dark, the sun was high, the scented gardens, the people on the street smiling. For some 'time Howy had taken a new turn in his morning walks, directly across the center of town, walking fast on the sidewalk, taking care not to trample on the junction of the concrete tiles. That was the only device that kept him tied to the daily reality for the duration of what would be an hour of pure entertainment, before sitting down to Remington and start writing. Just had left the night before.
In fact they were walking fast, pure exercise, perception of the alien will mix with the microrealtà the town. Someone greeted him, he replied, but if someone else had the idea of \u200b\u200basking him a few steps farther on "who" had exactly greeted Howard certainly would not have been able to tell. And just waved. To courtesy. To be left alone, too.
So sometimes happened that, back in his studio, not even made it on behalf of those who had met and, more importantly, what the words were addressed.
that morning of early June did not go well. Just outside the town hall, while bouncing on the pitch with his strange wiry, who happened to cross the postmaster of the country, which had turned a smiling ... "We have received important mail, Mr. Howard today eh .."
"E? Important ... ? Lovecraft created the essence of that statement, at least a few seconds after he had greeted the man of the post. It was a moment.
racing at breakneck speed toward the house, so as to avoid fatigue of the few passers-by on the opposite sidewalk, he reached the gate of his house, opened it and exclaimed in going into, just as Aunt Lilian is brought to the eyes that strange message.
"Bar Ber .. ..." sketched distracted the elderly, in an attempt to read the postmark.
"It 's my thing, Aunt Lilian" The Howy said, seriously.
The woman put the letter in his hand.
He went into his study, opened it, read it.
was like when the wind turns.
[snip]

"twelve, maybe fourteen kilometers ... But I'll find a way to stop it. All this " .
It was not just the pain, not even the muggy heat, perhaps just the idea of \u200b\u200bwhat he lost. Of what would no longer matter what had happened from then on. That was the most difficult obstacle to bear now that he knew, would live another life.
"What life?" The thought's seething inside, like an overflowing coffee over the flame.
"Twelve or fourteen kilometers ...."
by foot: at each step a little 'blood-less, for each stride a sweat. A blend and blend and mix with the sand on his hands, or what was left. Not asked if she wanted to live, was that his fortune, because it is independent of the soul inherent in the human body that sometimes, those dramatic times, drives people to resist. In spite of everything. So it was not the mind groped to save it. It was his body, disconnected from any intellectual drive, freed from any conscious will. It was what is commonly called the "survival instinct" that held her up, dragging a step to another, the next time ... If this task had been delegated to the reason, there were those ten thousand steps.
"count the steps ..." He said shortly after he urinated on and having heard those terrible wounds, in all their absurd essence and for the first time, those three stumps that they flexed and stiffened in pangs of excruciating pain. Then sragionò: "The piss. This pisses me ... save - repeated aloud that smoking in the train fire was still visible behind her - Everyone knows who has the power to numb .. No, no ... Even better, to heal, to sterilize ... ". Immediately after completing the operation Paco could not help but look at his right hand, for an instant clean the blood and dirt, the three fingers and saw what was left. Pinkie, middle and ring existed only in the root that is joined to the hand. Three cuts, ordered and asymmetric, made him crippled. It was like watching his own coffin before friends if on his shoulders to his funeral and then apostrophes: "I'm still alive! Still alive! "..
"My hand is still" Farnsworth Paco strange smile. Flushed from intoxication unstable.
He felt on the brink of insanity between pain and bewilderment and fear. Then, placing his hand wound to the chest of the jacket khaki, with his left he rolled one of the tissues taken from their dead comrades, squeezed by tightening the teeth, erasing the unknown thick that it struck his hand and arm to the shoulder. Squeezed like to put in that gesture, all that he still had the desire.
To live, to try to be something different.
But his mind was not pushing, was her body, her limbs throbbing, independent from the heart and a clouded head, slave of pain, confused by the mutilation. Action, the place.
"One, two, one .. two .. one step after another, one gear, this should be a march. Chihuahua is not far away ... I will get there in three hours, maybe four "
He said, as the high sun, the smell of gunpowder, the smell of the breath of the ponds still Fierro him, such as flour on the baker in the early morning . The stony desert was like a big copper pot, where the life of a red-hot Mexican army captain who had lost himself, or what who chose to be up to that point.
was finding the discipline of the march that had forced the academy to exhaustion that Paco de Los Rios came to cover five, seven, nine kilometers in a few hours. Straight as a blade of grass, thin like a tightrope, vulnerable to one idea: to give in to fatigue, pain. Therefore, its body began to sag low, the sling had dipped his coat in the stomach, dusty boots had only the memory of glittering parades.
He stopped, leaned over, threw his head between his legs to squat again as the last forces. The horizon, until then rippled only rock and gravel dust, finally gave him a picture. It was his own, that of young cadets of that firm, determined, convinced, read aloud the prayer of the official Mexican. The redundant rhyme which required memory for each kid. In any future official. He liked. Like how a guy can like the idea of \u200b\u200bbelonging to something, be somebody. Confusion among the crowd of his peers, joined them. In success, in defeat, in joy, in pain. Gives him the idea of \u200b\u200bnever being alone, being that part of a whole which made it no less clear, but infinitely less vulnerable. Life, his obscenities.
So bitter to the mouth with the sand, his coat soaked, heavy legs and the desire to sleep whispering that an announcement of death, he began to recite it aloud, because the sand, the warm wind in the dunes, the red-hot stones of the mounds could hear him. Because he was not alone. It was part of something Captain Paco de Los Rios. He had lived in that and for that, he was hiding, he was protecting himself rocked.
And he repeated. And he repeated.

"I'm the one who falls. At the bottom row of the right. Not ride more, next to his companion, deaf and unaware that proceeds step. Yes, I'm the one who falls, with his uniform to beat fast-paced, pouches Bullet shaved oiled, the light goes out. Far away from the flag, close to the goal. So man, so women. From the womb that bore me, the lawn that welcomes my face fell. With drum music in the heart that drives us to get up.
of injury does not die, if you have no fear.
I'm the one that falls beyond the bottom of the row of the right. I'm the one raised to continue the march. "

That first evening spent at the home of Captain translator de Los Rios had continued to tell Howard to this story, its history, stroking the goatee again, with a smile for anything dramatic or ironic. Only with the knowledge of those who know her narrow escape, he had a second chance. Perhaps unnecessary, almost certainly undeserved, as not always, but almost never the right is the thrust of the case that says "white" for you and "black" for who's next. Or vice versa.
At one point in his story had then begun, with an ability to draw unexpected frenzy on a sheet of paper.
Howard had heard and had cleared, after the shock for the "gift" that Fierro had done to his friend fifteen years ago and had thought strange that he had devoted his writing all'orrorifico, the monstrous, all ' Ghastly throb and thrill to a story so simple, so real.
The draw of his host had done so more challenging and decisive.
"Tell U.S.: Do not you curious to know how I saved?" I asked him at one point Paco, waking him from his meditation, the sediment from its history.
"Yes, I was coming Paco" Howard snaps back, as you woke with a start.
"Nothing ... I recited this rhyme hundred times, I forget. Just in the distance I saw the first houses of Chihuahua I stopped. I sat down and I succumbed to exhaustion
"But how? Just when the most important, you want to risk on purpose ... "
" Yes - the translator had smiled - indeed not. I wanted to see What awaited me. I was not sure you want to live that way, with the right hand. I was tired, bleeding. I thought to decide the fate and I let myself sleep. It 'happened. It was good no? "
Howard had been as petrified for a moment and then the silence was broken by Paco that he was back on the last question.
The writer had time to think of that was not bad at a crossroads, to decide the fate. The "true", that when you are totally at the mercy of events, it becomes very visible in his bizarre obscurity. "Black or White" is repeated Lovecraft, thinking about the last words of his translator. White or black and you can not choose. Or again: do not want. "

"He finished that I was picked up a couple of miles from safety. I rescued a group of poor people fleeing the civil war - had then explained Paco, once the right design and the paper folded -. I thought that only the fact of being a "hated" the military I would be torn to pieces. Not so, thankfully. It was poor people in fear, looking just a bit 'of peace and security. Whatever It Takes.
They could finish me with a stick or even leave me there to bleed to death, no one would ever know.
So I knew at once that the birth is between revolution poor rural people, but not all of them wanted her, and that there is still a lot of people looking at you and sees you only as a man, despite the role that clothing or uniforms. My life began with the two certainties. Even now I think Rodolfo Fierro knew. He knew that I would meet this way and left me in life even to address it. I sometimes feel a bit ashamed 'to think of anything so absurd .. But since we're in the mood for confidences ... "

When Howard took on the last flight of stairs and settled at the door, had in mind two things. The first was to be able to explain quickly and well, without unnecessary words. The second was to succeed to guess at the same time and in the same way, what might be the reactions to his words. There were a few weeks ago when they had met and had made friends, but the Mexican hairy-looking intelligent he was familiar. What's more, thought to represent something he did not know he admitted to himself, so good.
This was the seed of the most sincere? What falls by the wind in a field adjacent rather than distant and blossoms though. Why you would expect, making sprout, then plant, then maybe oak. For Howard, the Barrio of New York declined to rush from his Providence, he seemed really well. He seemed really he can trust those gnarled hands, that every Hispanic in this period of slow and pedantic voice hoarse.
It was said that what he had to say was no small thing, that what I wanted to ask you could ask lightly. But this was his new nature and really did not feel like filtering, detached emotion, of thorns hanging. He wanted to say and wanted to try everything. At the same time. And if the answer was 'no', would have accepted it is accepted as a refusal to regret letting go.
No matter their faces, no matter their risk of face paint in its delusion. So he settled the suit and knocked twice.
"Oh Paco-made, while they drew a smile - my friend ammericano. Another translation? "
Howard smiled and went quiet. Well managed to free himself from the temptation to go beyond the pleasantries, and then sat down and talked in the kitchen, placing on the table the letter he had received only the day before. He spoke
dry and fast, with no big emotion, together seeking to observe the face of his party who heard, however, without betraying obvious emotions. His face in fact, became an impassive mask as if it were wax. That afternoon in early summer, soon became the evening, when Paco de Los Rios, finished listening to the words of his friend, finally decided to tell her.
"Want a coffee Mr. Howard?" He said, smiling mockingly.
"No, thanks. But ... "
" But I listened very carefully, my friend. And I must say that what I ask for is a simple, feasible ... I mean these things, I've done worse - he laughed explicit -. Being half Mexican authorizing the world to come to me for help. Villagers, Mexican, fake Mexican Hispanics everywhere. It seems that the fact of having this origin, speak the language, everyone is allowed to come to me ... "
" Do you mind, right? "
" No, not Mr. Lovecraft. I'll tell you that the only people who do not help are the killers. There are many around you know? ... The advantage of translating everything for everyone at the end you become aware of things that do not even want to know. So you end up in spite of yourself to know everything, maybe in advance of those who come knocking on your door and it feels right to do so, just because he speaks the same language in a foreign country. Well, I do not need all this knowledge, I do not mind the errors of those who ask me for help. Only killers ... The ones I refuse to help them. I've seen too many people die e.. And it's true: the death flattens everything, every difference, every ideal in those who died. Those who kill those who kill the other hand ... could do it again. No matter the reasons that led him first. I've seen too many people die and I have not done anything to prevent it. This is enough, I will no longer be responsible ... Acting and doing nothing is the same thing "
" But here, it is not death, "Howard added, peaceful
" Yes, it is not dead and I'll tell you that the thing to soothe me a lot. It will be easier for you to do, what to do ... "Then she smiled with her green eyes and nerves in his neck that pulled agile, in the light of the oil lamp on the table.
The captain made the tavern on the corner wearing a big pot of mole negro, then the two friends talked about drinking red wine and wiping with your forearms. From time to time Paco blocking its hilarity by instinct, and while the wiry Howard remained purple in the face for laughing, he stopped to look at him silently, as if to study their attitudes. He did it with a light of very sincere pleasure that only a few hours later ended up upsetting Lovecraft.
"What are you staring at me every now and then?" I urged, serious fatigue.
"Ah, I do not know Mr. Lovecraft, I'll have to tell you ..." The midnight hour was over by ten minutes. On the table the remains of a tasty dinner and greasy.
"Why?" He added decelerating laughter.
"Because I do not know if this is your true nature, or have you changed since the last When we met ... All this talk: Pull the plug on this side, disconnect the power ... there're different "
" Different how? Most beautiful? "And in doing so, put a banana peel on his head, simulating a wig, and began again to laugh. The wine had its effect.
"More human than More ... humble Howard
The silence that followed was something that Lovecraft could not decipher. It was as if suddenly change the lights on stage and full lighting, switch to that eye of beef that can make the fortune of any actor, singer or dancer debut. The writer of the Providence felt about himself and then answered. With a question.
"Have you ever been in love, Paco?"
"What matters ..." said the Mexican project, shaking his head sideways. Howard took no notice, had already lost his inhibitions, "I do. Davvero.Tanti many years ago. The good ... The good thing is that I had forgotten the "And he laughed as if he had gone through something to drink.
"Ah .."
"Really, you know? Her name was Charlotte: I had forgotten about her "
" Remember, you gave a shock eh? "He smiled smugly.
"I think so. For all that has come back ... It 's been invoking the chain of a ship. The memories came out ring after ring. But did not you answered "
" What? Ah ... love. Do not see a topic is boring? "
" Yes, that is not. I thought until a few days ago, then ... "
" Then that Carlotta, I redid the blood boil in his veins ... And where is it now eh? "He mischievous man without three fingers, while with the enforceable right stroking the lace.
"It 's dead, many years ago"
"Well, I'm sorry ammericano ... But still can change sorting on you. And that change. I would say that you're better than we said goodbye and not only for the new I guess the letter you received ... "
Howard took another glass of cerveza, knocking him down like a bully would do in the suburbs at the counter of a dive, then looked straight at his friend and it was as if daring. This time was not joking ...
"You wiper, M. de Los Rios. Answer my question please. Have you ever in love? "
" It 's quite a boring topic, my friend "
" I guess. How is it a story about you, Paco "retorted
ironic writer, as he poured a drink. It was not salty mole negro, was the desire to have fewer inhibitions. As a descent into conscious the goal of true sincerity. That coincides with the free deeper than a man can afford. The Mexican
smiled sober. Then he began: "Yo soy un hombre como todos ... I like all Howard. I fell in love too. Sure ... Claro que si. "
never did, or almost. Nested quell'inglese with his tongue that he had learned so well in recent decades. Howard noted that he sometimes, when the sinking of his argument one step. Descended to the depths hidden. Besides the stories of mutilation, blood, dead, to aid ill the barrio. Those were only the emerged part of the former captain of the past. It was obvious that was us much. Much more.
"A woman? A love? More love? "He thought Lovecraft, watching Paco mirror in the bottom of his glass. He thought of the nights spent at home a few weeks before his translator, shouting that he had invested the vital corridor quell'abitazione in the middle of the night. The laughter, the sound of high heels between rooms, between those walls. In the house of Paco who was like a haven where they could all land, where sometimes moor some elegant wooden vessel sails prosperous and swollen. Intended for the master of the docks. What could carry: love? Wild sex? What kind of fulfillment? Howard did not want to know out of curiosity vulgar. No, he needed points of reference. Simply.

How could love a man like that? Who had already died once, and another had begun to live. Disenchanted, yet generous. Simple and yet so willing to gamble everything. Every time.
"I was married - began the translator -. I was married, when I did this Fierro. Ramona, it was called, or calling. Although I do not know what happened to ... "
Howard looked at him as we see a chest, piano, opens. Did not hide his curiosity, not conceal his astonishment. He could no longer do so.
"When I return to the Military Hospital, I was holding only a license that would act as a bridge to leave unrestricted. So tanned it was no longer the Republican army of Mexico, I knew. There I was wrong. What I did not expect was that the changes would come so fast in my life, not to allow me to think, to get ready. To plan too.
Ramona was the daughter of a landowner in the district of Guadalajara. A woman who was able to recognize the authority of a father ... That important, a husband, a uniform. I should have realized that I'd never been anything about these three things for you or the children we wanted. I began to understand it from the only time he came to visit me in hospital during his recovery. That day he asked me to unwrap and show him my ... My new hand. I saw his face impassive and cold. I would have much preferred that you portray horror, instead stared at her without touching. Firm, with her eyes and her hair blacks. I think at that moment ceased to love me. Mumbled a few words empty of compassion, then smiled at me and pretend I finally kissed her forehead before leaving.
I swear that Howard seemed to me that day even more beautiful ... "
The two exchanged a smile now diners late at night. A smile uneven, broken down. On one hand, the peak of Lovecraft's life, and secondly the hilarity of the translator who slid down. From hero defeated.
"I went back to her a few weeks later, I knew I would never be the same. So I continued to live them for next few months, I waited and waited ... The night I heard her slip out of our bed, but did not interest me to know where he went .. "
Howard continued to observe the other end of the table. The alcohol kept him from taking a graceful pose, but it took away an instant lucidity, the ability to analyze. Not even that watered-down feeling that scraped inside. Sharp nails on the wall as a blackboard. From time to time imperceptibly blew into his nostrils and sketched a grim smile at the same time. How to launch an invisible donut rescue a friend from drowning. For years he was drowning, but without drowning. Paco
rolled yet another cigarillo and carried it to his lips. With the usual puffy spicy roteandolo lit the flame.
"Yes, I do not care. Even the smiles of malicious vaccheros like the looks of pity and embarrassment of his father. I waited until the time was right, something which I click inside but I did not know what could be ... That was my new life, but life was short ... What? - Former captain took a deep breath, inhaling all the smoke that still pile up to his lips after another breath, then continued - And then one evening, three months after my return, I waited for my wife go out at night and followed her. I saw her across the courtyard of the mess and slip into the head herdsman. A blond ammericano chatterbox who had arrived in Guadalajara a few weeks ago ... I do not need to see with my eyes, I did not care who he was and what he did not Ramona. Inside of me I had already decided what to do .. ".
Howard felt a chill that iced down and stroked his neck to the buttocks, as a substantial drop of cold water, slip down. From his right, through his vision, until its shocking certainty.
"Paco is a murderess pairs fedigrafe ... A man who knew how to kill, Therefore, and according to his words could do it again, "he said.
How could he judge him so well? Struggled to swallow and waited, listening to his friend.

"I did what seemed most natural. I said nothing, waiting for her to come back out. I waited and saw her, making me see. I did nothing, it was not necessary. We looked at how to recognize the light of a candle in the dark. The beauty is that we succeeded ... "
" You killed it? "He Lovecraft with a whisper, like a child might ask.
Only a few weeks before this question would never revolt. Only a few weeks earlier it would not be stayed there. To listen.
Paco smiled and shook his head.
"I never would have made Mr. Howard. I never would have done ... I did not even think the impulse to be angry and even ashamed of her. Yes, we recognized that evening. I was no longer the captain de Los Rios and her ... She was no longer my wife. There were no words, there was no need. We stared in silence for a few seconds, I wanted to apologize to her and maybe she wanted to do the same with me, I'll read it in your face but ... It was not ashamed of what he had done, for treason. I wanted to apologize for not being able to accept me for what I had become different. A new man, Unlike ... not much better. Only "
The writer drew on the back of the chair, as if to draw breath.
His face described his astonishment, his candor infinite. His face spoke to Paco, his mouth without saying.
"I wanted - continued from Mexico - to apologize for coming here, in front of her alcove, for having interfered .. I wanted to forgive me for all that he was just between us and the fact that he decided to be there, that night.
I knew before arriving at that door, would have represented a cut of everything. In my past, my marriage, my life now that I could not quell'ovatta accept. There were months that I knew. That was just an excuse to have the urge to leave. I was a coward, I gave it to me .. I thought I deserved. For better, for worse. "
Howard looked at him in amazement, Paco did not stop to comment on the attitude of his host. We just tried to be more direct.
"My life, Howard was irrevocably changed on that train. Remove Ramona, have the excuse to do it ... To get away without looking back, I think it was an act of vanity and selfishness on my part. I know that I left with a deep sense of guilt, as it was accustomed to think. But I could not do otherwise.
The next morning I had a suitcase ready, I did accompany the first station and then left for the United States. Ramona I have not heard anything. She was the only woman I really loved, but ... But maybe it would be truer to say that I loved him before this ... "and waved the three stumps of the right, as it boasts an open-hand salute.
Then he added, between the serious and the ridiculous: "My friend, never ask a man without a piece of his body if he ever loved in the past, you might think of doing a simple question, without knowing what you pull on complicated ... "
Lovecraft was an instant fix and a little embarrassed 'with himself. Meanwhile, Paco because he believed capable of killing in cold blood and then because knew what hid the last words of his translator. He felt that there was a warning, a sort of shield wide open in front of the Mexican and represented by words so simple that they knew almost of reproach.
It was as if he had said "Do not think, just for the simple fact that I am a translator, that the complexity does not belong to me, I do not belong to the passions, instincts, will ... The same ones that belong to those who imagine incredible stories of fictional characters. "
Paco de Los Rios could have a love life "normal" to tell? No, he could not.
It was this certainty that he ashamed Howard Phillips Lovecraft: not having made her own. Did not have time to say something that would have the condescending tone of apology. Paco
ran to his aid, stroking the graying goatee.
"I now do not know what to believe Howard. I know what I felt was true love, I know it was something so strong and for many years that I could move mountains for what was beating within. But I also know that, beyond that, there is little that can shake and move deeper. So - smiled briefly - to answer your question, I will tell you that yes, I loved. I know what love is, I know how to change people, I know it might not be recognizable in the moment, but that could get into and survive over time to himself. I loved once and it went like this ... Sometimes I force myself to think that maybe I will love again, but when I think now, with a cool head, I think no, not love you anymore. This new life that I live by then, maybe it has been, or am I simply do not foresee ... Sometimes, then, I think I should try to get back to Ramona. Who knows what you'll find after fifteen years, as I would see. It 's a thought that setback, I think I want to go back to living a previous life and I can afford ... No one can afford it. "
"Passed" He did so long ago that Howard had regained lucidity
"What?"
"You said:" After that, "my friend" Raise the writer.
"So?" He Paco prohibited.
"You said" exceeded ", speaking of love of Ramona. Did you talk as if it were an obstacle, an impediment ... "
" I did not mean that you can imagine "
" I do not suppose you've noticed. I say this because I seem to know this way of thinking ... "Howard smiled this time.
"It was not an obstacle, perhaps just one more link, one of those who did not make sense. I was different now, she was. Compared to my change ... But maybe, maybe yes. It was also an obstacle. Something that would keep me tied to a life that I could no longer live ammericano ... You're good, you know? "
" No, is that now it all seems so clear. For me and sometimes, for those around me "
" Your new life? "
" No, it's my life forever. Only now I live without mutilate
"Maimed? Do you think the right word to use in front of me? "Rise Paco, waving his right hand again.
"You know what I mean"
"I understand, yes ... But let's put it this way: with no emotional bond, they are now free. I live as I want, help who I want to help. Including you. "
[snip]
"You ammericano strange ..." He then Paco, after some minutes of silence, after he had turned yet another cigarillo and that Howard had gone to the bathroom to wash her face.
".. Come here and talk to me about love. It seems so strange a subject to be addressed now. I think that love is not for everyone. I think it's something that helps people to grow, to form but then ... At one point, abandons them. When no longer needed. Come on then ... Do you think a man of success has the instinct to love? Coolidge, for example? He loves his wife? And Villa? The great Pancho Villa, I think he had room to love someone? And how that Italian ... his name? The one with the big head. Now that is one of the most powerful men in the world, believe he has time to experience certain feelings? "
He gave a sly little break, while Lovecraft was listening carefully.
"I do not think - continued -. I do not think that loving a woman, an activity can be reconciled with the exercise of power, which can live with the success, or a mission, if you have one and it is so important for you ... I'm thinking now: you write stories of incredible. Writing is your mission. When did you love as you loved your Charlie? "
Howard thought his wife and was crossed by the tremor, with an instinct of remorse. Like a languid sense of guilt, the result of the inevitable.
"My story is different, Paco"
'It's always a different story, my friend. It is for those who choose a different life, not common
"I'm not a man of success," the writer sincere smile.
"No matter what you it is for others. Do you have a passion not? You live for that. "
Lovecraft bowed his head, he thought the last words of his Ukrainian wife, spoken with Cleveland. How
playing now?

"... Your writing, Howard is a great thing, I am too small for you. This is my talent, my emotion is so different from your ... "He told her
Sonia and she was right.

watching Paco then react." And then you? what you live for, what brings you so far away now? Are you a man of success or do you have that mission ?
"I live Howard. My mission is, and there is a bigger than this. In the mean survival. And if I can help someone, I do. not in the spirit of charity - he smiled, almost snorted with contempt - Of that I do not care. Helping people gives me the feeling that something survived. It makes me think that my presence here has a meaning. Actually I'm not helping them, but exactly the opposite "
" Then I asked with what I'm doing you a favor? "
" Well, we say that we are exchanging favors them there, "smiled the Mexican acute. The next morning

Lovecraft and Paco de Los Rios greeted with affection, but without pleasantries. They looked, shook hands with restraint, they smiled. They knew that they would soon be revised and had assured that they were already involved in something important. Besides the writing, translating, living the lives of others. Had it been the imaginary monsters and Lovecraftian heroes dry, or that in many cases miserable, restless, of "Latinos" who rely on translations of Paco. That time was also their story, their commitment, their mission. A chance to finally give a concrete form, material, to their lives. Everyone recognized her in the life of the other, not thinking of his own. Paco
Then he did something that thrilled the writer of Providence: with his hands, touched the right of Howard and placed it in the palm open a sheet of paper, then looked at him and whispered: "There is a drawing that I did last time, nothing that ... "
Howard raised his head in greeting. Paco waved his right hand with three stumps.
the trumpeting of New York was sunny that day. The pointed chin Lovecraft crossed it as a cut through the air, with a firm step. His lanky figure and thin, as seen through the windows of the house of Paco, it seemed almost like a piston that flickers in their regular cylinder. Howard opened around the corner from that piece of paper, he saw the drawing and read: "Man of the plugs ready to go" Behind
finally, there was an inscription. A Lovecraft seemed like a secular prayer:

".. Blessed are the men who they can identify with flags and chanting in the night, with each other. When you do not see anything, the noise is deafening, but you know you belong to something. Blessed is he who can make his companion when he is afraid, happy is he who can get confused in a hundred others like him and peaceful rest. Under the usual flag Usually listening to the song .. "sound

Howard laughed, throwing his eyes to heaven, while his hands still held open that page:" ... Under the usual flag, usually listening to the song "She whispered to herself, without fear that someone will listen.


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Pablo had skilled hands and gnarled, which moved as if they were agile, utility and according to taste, shears, rather than units, or even hooks to place irons. It was his ability: to handle the fabrics and textiles. To mold them to measure their own needs, the utility of the customer. It was all or almost mechanically, until such time as his little "genius" does not jump out, in circumventing an obstacle: a form unevenly between a blade and another, a waist disproportionate to mask hidden in the folds of a flap trousers, a jacket to modify to changing pinguitudini. Frills, games fibers and fabrics, needle and thread, sewing machine, operated with elbow grease. Pablo was a man who knew how to listen and be silent, cut and rip, sew and adapt. Chosen for its skill and wisdom from the most powerful men aware of Catalonia that he clothes are tailored and those few enlightening words of one who knows everything, he would not know and even less to say. Character and for his knowledge was very direct in access to power, without being part of this desire.
That afternoon, Pablo "calificados manos", hosted a seminarian in his workshop next to the vote. A thin, pale boy with a look a bit 'confused and uncertain few words. The need was to rehabilitate an old black dress in fashion and style of young priests. Of those that you know: hardly will open doors to an ecclesiastical career, because coming from dusty provinces, rather than as absolute poverty and hunger.
took measurements of the pants, the shirt, then grabbed the jacket of the young, while he, distracted by the movements of skilled tailor, he made no gesture to stop him with excessive heat. It was a restless instinct, devoid of anger or malice, but full of shame and embarrassment in a sudden flash "tug" to cinema.
From the inside pocket of the garment fell one, two, three photographs with fringed edges. In absolute silence for a few seconds Pablo stood with the sleeve of his jacket in hand to look at those figures rivoltesi face up off the floor. He stood so for a very short time it almost seemed to the young priest, a life-ending.
The look of a tailor and then went to the red-faced by the young fugitive and back to the floor. Where time and serene immobility ended in the act of stooping low, stack indifferent photos and deliver them to the young. Without saying a word.
"These .. These are not mine" said the priest coming forward to clear.
"It does not matter. Never mind, "snapped the tailor, Pablo, and a kindly smile and full of indulgence hoary mantled the young clergyman.
"I can count on his discretion Don Pablo?"
"There is no discretion. You do not need. I have not seen anything. "
would have been enough to whisper a phrase my lord, rather than a high priest in the act of relining a sleeve access to the priesthood of the young man as thin as a scarecrow, it would be forever barred. But Pablo, the tailor of Cadaques, silent peaceful. For character, even before that indulgence.
He never talked to anyone about this seminar, now a priest, who was traveling with pornographic photographs of the inside pocket of his black jacket, repeatedly readjusted. He did not speak of doubts, did not hesitate in their bewilderment. Did not judge and did not want others to judge. Several times over the years, with visits to the priest who is making his way in the hierarchies of the curia, he thought at that unusual morning in his laboratory. But thoughts were that made sterile for precise control.

"Come back Amancio?" He had asked that morning
ironically Estrela "Sure ... Why should not I?" The retort was, anything but graceful, Esteban.
"No, I'm asking because I want to change the sheets" He had raised, fierce, girl.
"Let the same" She clipped him, frowning. He had dreamed
arms around his neck or unexpected support and comforting, but at least he had no desire to be teased. Not now, not before the eminent
... "But perhaps Estrela do not realize ...." It was thus reassured, putting the street in the direction of his meeting.
"O ... Perhaps he realizes all too well. " He had left the doubt. Then
soothing thoughts slipped back to physical love was not enough to Esteban Labruna, while satisfying to the point that they feel need more raids, but that basically was a part of one of which wanted reciprocal quell'appartenenza , as a drive in his new love that they harbored. There was the bed of Estrela, the dialogue was contradictory and conflicting, so alive, so sensual, but there was another. Esteban Labruna that escaped. A part of the soul of a beautiful woman he loved and who had just picked and that did not end, even in the morning shaking, confusion to make its certainties.
"Come back Amancio?"
"Fuck if I go back. I'll be back. I'll be back. I'll be back. "
At that without realizing it, Esteban Labruna, he began to squint every few seconds, as a spray dry eyes and disturbingly wide. Instinct had the perception that only after an hour, he walked once sent to the curia. Not happened, never had need or attitudes, which it had knowledge. He thought that many things were changing. Definitely. And that this was not unexpected that the reaction of a body that is now really put to the service of a heart. A soul. Right or wrong that is the reason that drove him.

"No fear Esteban hours. I must not cry about the consequences of my choices. I need it my all. " So he repeated the young Labruna in the room, sitting on the wooden bench, while he was ante-eminence. He had sweaty hands, they express their fears somatization. Only excitement and desire to be elsewhere. Really want.
So you missed watching those white walls, filled only with old paintings of bishops and senior members of the ecclesiastical hierarchy Catalan. Faces are often dug, always scowling. How could God dwells in their faces, in the folds of those expressions unnaturally aristocratic in those black robes as pitch, sometimes from the hills pompous and coquettish, Esteban was a question that had begun to ask themselves a few months earlier. In touch with his "Eminence", but especially with the silver cross that hung from the chain around his neck. The thin bony man, he had thought the first time, did not promise anything good, just as hooked nose that looked like a sail and pulled taut in the wind of Catalan Bay.
The white walls of those was fresh out of hand, quickly given. How to cover in a hurry, moldy old listings in that building, but on that point, the architect of his own imagination stood, aware of being on the path of exaggeration. The real problem, perhaps, were not those faces in the portraits, them their clothes, nor do their poses, or that white. The point was his fear now. He thought, in that endless hall, which is in those circumstances that the true "rebels" are seen. When the inevitable introduced him to their account, supposedly, come on. Since there is no courage at the time of the action, but only when that subject, which may be immediate or delayed, but it is a natural consequence.
On the opposite wall, then, the young Labruna could not help but notice a huge ex voto framed and hung in plain sight among all those distressing figures. Here, framed, was the beloved flag Catalan thin horizontal stripes yellow-red, topped by a thick gold cross and an inscription below. In gold letters on a striped background azulgrana " Els catalans a Nova York, for the fe de la seva sea homeland català " it said.
was a vision that gave him strength, but not for nationalistic reasons, or devotion to their home as he believed in himself, at first. Simply because grafted into his mind focused and alive, a seed seemingly invisible. As an idea that lies flat, but begins to erode preconceptions and foreclosures. And to make his way.
Then the "dachshund" with lunettes who had approached him for appointment to the yard, appeared behind the heavy door.
"Please Mr. Labruna take a seat. His Eminence the wait, "he said, almost whispering with a smile distressing. Esteban move.

"Well Mr. Labruna, go bad. Very bad. You know that. True? ... "The high priest had him go after more than an hour's wait. We did find standing behind his heavy mahogany desk carved with the usual peremptory expression. The cross remained stagnant in the middle of her belly inconsistent, under that hideous dress.
"... No, do not say anything. I do not want to hear his voice now - it stopped abruptly, without him saying a word -. Me to nerves. I just want to talk. Labruna The last time I was too lenient with her. I know ... I know him .. It 'my fault. On the other hand are a man of the church and for us, in our position, it is always very difficult to indulge in aggressive behavior ... "
" I ... "
" Shut up! It must be quiet! - It stopped only to take breath before speaking -. There always seems to go against the precepts to which we swore obedience and loyalty, such as through our ascent to God a few times however, it becomes vanity. When we expect to remain subservient to them, despite our human nature. In essence, Labruna: are men. God created us and so we will test every day. Every day ... Sometimes our instincts, even the most insane, I won. Sometimes, too many times, no ... Let's go back and become to be men among men. Now he can talk
architect, but only to answer my questions. I do not want to hear more from her. Tell me, now: he prefers to speak to the man, or men of the church? "
" I do not know, Your Eminence ... I do not know. I guess you already know ... "Esteban was left standing two meters away from your desk. Rigid, serious, determined.
"I feel that does not abandon his impertinence, my boy. But in the bottom right. I already know and I know that I talk like a man. Maybe God wants it. "
Then he stopped, sitting down and crossing his arms on his belly with your elbows to the massive arms.
"Then Esteban. Where is Antoni Gaudi? "
" I do not know. "
The prelate then open one of his drawers and pulled out an envelope. He opened it, and then read s'inumidì lips.
"Hotel restaurant Mondragon. 12 thousand and 173 Pesetas Labruna ... Let me know how can a young man like you, who have a home, spend as much in hotels and restaurants ... I repeat the question: where is Antoni Gaudi? "
" My lord, I swear that ... "
"Bodega Quitoz. Bodega Irureta. Bodega de Los Diablos ... Interesting that name ... Total: 17 thousand and 154 Pesetas GAUDI ...? "
" I do not know is the truth "
" This is terrific: tailor Abel Munoz, 72 and 8 thousand pesetas. You, the son of a tailor. If his father could see it. Thank goodness ... I can not say how much she earns per month to the site? As we have established good at all! "
" 830 pesetas per month, Eminence "
" A true architect salary. But she is not an architect true ... She was there 'FOR ANTONI GAUDI' ... we have it harvest "
" Yes, but I have not seen him since when I brought it to the study. "
"infamous liar!"
"Eminence ..."
"There is an eminence now, here. There is only one employer that she is cheating. That has already betrayed. We will start with small things, Esteban Labruna. The accounts that I said they are not welded. From tomorrow you are a man failed. Forget about the previous life, forget the luxury of his whores, travel and cerveza ... Forget! Forget "
" Okay. But I do not know where the master Gaudi "
" No, you know! Knows! Why is that not many days do you see the yard, and from day only pretending to go home, then go out like a rat when nobody sees it .. It 's been days that appears and disappears. This is unacceptable and will pay dearly. "
"How can I get believe?" Esteban was lucid enough to simulate real fear, embarrassment.
"You should not make us believe anything. You must bring results. Now! UP-TO-BI. There is no time to wait ... And she's not. He has no more money, even credibility. He's only in the wake of its creditors that tomorrow will be looking for her. Take me now Gaudi. Esteban
thought of the warm bed of Estrela, his home, his refuge. He did it to get strength, not to linger. As, if you were let go, he might not have really needed to simulate fear.
"But where can I find it? I do not know how it disappeared .. Who took him away. Maybe he knew and ran his tone-he tried to get confidential -.. Maybe it was all a farce to take off from any nuisance. Perhaps now is laughing at us, the yard. What can I learn? I did what I had. I picked up in confusion, I brought it to the studio, I tried to avoid a scandal, how would you have done eminence. Or not? "
" What I did not apply to you and I can not know. But I do not care, she acted as Labruna is suspicious, very suspicious as it may be a man who is paid handsomely to act, to know ... "
" To make the light, bad worm "I think the architect, the nth of wring lids.
".. for reference. But did and did not know anything. Confidence in him now is nothing. She at least has a lecherous fool. But I warn you: I'm not so convinced that she is so ... I think you're up to something. Probably running all around the money, so now we know that money does not have more and more ... "
Esteban, standing stiff as a pole, his head bowed slyly.
"You can not know. He does not know that I'm not from only. And I have to be accountable to those most important to me. People with no kids, Labruna. Not acting on behalf of God, but only for what: for the money ... I wish to be content of his words, his talk. I wish him, but I do not think so "
" What other people? "He Esteban genuinely surprised.
"She does not care. The care that I will not be able to report other than what I think. That is, she knows a lot more and does not want to say .. "
" You are mistaken, Your Eminence. He is making a big mistake. I do not know anything ... If what you say is true, is sending an innocent man to the gallows. Really.
"The gallows Esteban? There are worse things than hanging, you know? There is social annihilation, perhaps even physically. Absolutes. There are mutilated lives ... Accept advice, protect you now: tell me where Antoni Gaudí "
" I do not know. These days ... I knew I could work even harder, I could do this. I could work even more ... "
" Do not just Labruna. We want concrete things. Facts "
" I know, I know ... I could at least know who I look, Your Eminence? Could I? "
" There I can tell, Esteban .. I can only tell that the site moves a lot of money. And the work is too slow. Too. You do not need to know more. Follow Follow the money ... Labruna Gaudi, indeed: I take him. Solve all its problems. Of money and the future. She wants a future in this city, Labruna? "
Esteban bowed his field as a sign of assent.
"Well, then do something. Gaudi for us to know that if a symbol is insane and wrong that goes private aura of holiness that is drawing the people around him, for some it is merely a means old man. What is not needed, which has become even detrimental to a site that does not proceed and drain several speakers. Not just those in the curia that I represent.
The money we are only a tool to allow us to survive in troubled times too, even politically. But for many, money is a way of life.
E 'to these, now, that must look Esteban. Do it for himself for his future. I can only tell you this now. I knew his father, since the time of my votes. It was a good person, a humble man and very good or fair.
I say this not because she deserves it, she is not worth a man's fingernail. I tell him to that old friendship that tied me to her dad "

An old friendship born from the discovery of dirty pictures, mockingly appeared on the floor of a tailor-the-century Catalan, which flourished on gratitude, affirmed the silent work of a Tailor-haired and white-bearded, sedimentatasi the memory of endless afternoons trying to figure robes, more luxurious and important over the years. A friendship for Pablo Labruna was never really that, in ambition of fewer and fewer young priest and his unhealthy trend in the arrogance that made the silence of the tailor much more significant in decades. Pablo Labruna had repeatedly asked over the years if he did well not to break the ecclesiastical career of that individual young lean and disturbing. Many times, many times, the answer he was given was the fruit of his character. Mild, balanced, pragmatic.
"Who am I to decide if this man has the thickness, the moral rectitude to get where it is coming? "
He had then observed the movements more and more proud, more and more detached attitudes, gestures increasingly generous unnaturally, as if they had not the lush fruit of a peace and an inner vocation, but the striking jet a choice too glossy. To be pious, because that was the "dress" that was required. Pablo
Labruna "Manos calificados" do not blame him ever really wondered just that for twenty years as a man sincerely devout, because the priest had been chosen. To climb the heights of the curia, to pursue a career that seemed to really have no limit. In power, in prestige, in time.

"I tell you one thing ... Esteban hours - then added, the eminence-Many years ago, his father Pablo, showed himself gentle and forgiving with me. He could not. Today I returned that the gesture and I let it go without consequences for those who do not make it poor, as it deserves. I tell her to bring Antoni Gaudi, I ask him as a friend, but I guess you will not do ... So I warn you, it is no longer I who must beware. I would do anything for her. For better, for worse. With this debt with Don Pablo, his father, is welded.
"Very well, Your Eminence"
Esteban Labruna after a brief nod he turned and walked away without looking back.
walked through the spacious halls of the curia, with their white walls unnatural, pompous and paid no attention to the disturbing paintings of prelates, forgot about that place that had seemed to attack him every time we went. He felt like a burden relieved, like a stone, remained too long in the middle of the chest, which eventually came down to the stomach to prepare to be expelled. She breathed as liberation, stopped thinking about the last words eminence.
forgot for a moment, all that in disquieting had emerged from that conversation almost surreal, where he had sprung the semblance of humanity by a man who seemed not to have, the emotional, imperceptibly passion, of that old friendship with his father.
Then his state of mind where he glided sprouted another series of pressing fears. Even more unknown, more wrenching.
Whatever he decided to do, should do it soon. He came to this conclusion, while stuck on the last porch, he dived into the sun of Barcelona usual warm and welcoming. He stood a moment as to want to enjoy those rays that touched his forehead, and bushy eyebrows, frowning, turned his gaze to the left, the imposing monument that stands at the center of the courtyard and in its shadow that stretched almost to touch feet. In the midst of that, leaning back against the pedestal, was Guillermo with his bike, a ruined land.
He looked at him and smiled.
"Well, you're still alive Esteban? We thought of having to enter the vehicle and come and save "
" I'm still alive Guillermo. But I need to write "
" What, a poem? ... You have made me want to try it? "
" No, I have to write a letter. In fact, give me a ride to where I tell you? "Asked approaching.
"Sure. Wherever you want. Via slow or fast way? "Raise the painter, while lifting the heavy motorcycle with a disarming ease.
"I'd rather the way safer "
" The surest way there, my dear Labruna. It 's just the speed, space and ideally shorter journey times, decrease the risk of casualties "
" You Benitez raving, you know? "
" We know that you think the "
jumped on the back of the motorcycle Guillermo , closed his eyes. "Blind man" gave information on where the rider would leave him. Just two blocks from the house of Estrela, only an excess of caution, though now he understood that Benitez de Alphonsine could trust him and he could still see where he slept for days.
The journey through Barcelona was the now usual roaring swirl of dust raised, cursing pedestrians and motorists and invested almost untouched corners of houses. Esteban but there tended to be the first time on the Catalan coast. He had other things to think, still resounded in his ears the words eminence. Yet understood in the hands of those who now had passed the "practice" of his master Antoni Gaudi. Bankers, entrepreneurs, speculators of all levels had, by means of unsuspecting Jesuits, supported that site, that work dedicated to God
Some of them, probably all, judges no longer tolerate any delay in raising the structure. "The money - he said to himself clinging to Guillermo Esteban on the red bike - .. always the same. At the center of my life, the life of all. Even Don Gaudi. Despite himself, despite his great soul, his talent. They are like a sink drain ... I attract money, engulf and swallow everything that is human. I should know "From that day
Esteban was poor. He realized the bike Guillermo, was not afraid of that. He felt only the concern of those who looks at a new life and do not really know what to expect. At 23, the young Labruna, had cleared all its values \u200b\u200band methods. Economic, moral, social. What's left? A woman who could not be his, a new friend in the middle between the mad and the gifted, a teacher too important to be saved. Shortly before arrival at destination, however, it was said that he could start by itself, once it was all over. Once Don Gaudi was safe, he had clarified his future in the bed of Estrela. Short or long that might be. Then Guillermo
braked abruptly, he raised his goggles on his forehead and smiled. So
seen, seemed nice even if it were not for the scar that still reddish plowed right cheek, wandering like a snake.
"Labruna, remember that tonight is THE NIGHT. The teacher continues his tour tomorrow for Madrid. If you want to talk about it tonight. I will pass to you after dinner, Rise up here .. Okay? "
" Yes, quite right about this place. I'll be there "and walked with quick step toward his hut.

"Ah you're back? Well, "smiled the girl all dressed Portuguese
" Yes, and what do you do? You prepare to make the evening? "Raise him still angry about the evil of that morning inappropriate.
"No, I go to the turkish bath. Since you did not go here once, I want to get some air. " She made her swaying slightly as to be better seen. A gesture of coquetry that fits well.
"Good, go: I have to do ..." He cut short Esteban almost arrogant, now peaceful again "In fact, I wanted to ask if you were writing paper."
"If you remember to write all the words. Keep your eyes wide open .. "Raise the girl ironic.
Esteban wrote with difficulty, in a English cumbersome, typical of those who were not accustomed to writing, composition prosaic. He wrote of the project, frustrated with the ardor of those who would argue, explain, act quickly, but is constrained by its limited means to skirt the issue, think again, slowing down its action.
Esteban wrote, however, with the clarity that had never had, with the intricate yet fluid phrasing those who are not accustomed to communicating. Feelings, hopes and fears finanche.Un period settle, they hand your letter took shape, from his intelligence, his instincts. He wrote of the project, with some misspellings, a Spaniard who alternated in a gross manner, instinct technical knowledge somehow equivalent. In discussions with the writers on the ramblas, rather than on brochures distributed at the entrance of the variety. It took a little, after all, just hook the more pressing desire to own his own head. Without filters.
Estrela secretly watched him a few minutes from the door ajar, without fear of Commons. A little 'surprise, a little' admired as a mother spying on her child, struggling with the first solitaire games, sitting on the ground. Or you look at a person who is going to become what it has never been. To take the form of an adult male who engages in actions and will no longer be dissolute boyfriend.
In his letter, I thought missing a few key indicators. Judged that it would be sufficient to check and prepare before sending it, so he stood on the thought that Guillermo would wait time of the appointment.

"Our master is late - Guillermo said, sitting on his motorcycle when he saw Esteban appear at the evening meeting place - has accumulated a delay of hours, since this morning on the program of visits to Barcelona. We told him that was absolutely essential that you speak. But we have to wait several hours ... "
" A few hours? - He puzzled the architect - but it's already nine o'clock. Late at night will want to talk, to listen? "Fat
Benitez laughed and added:" night eh .. There are no problems. I do not think he will be able to sleep more than three hours per night. He says that sleep is a waste of time and that the night was made to act, think, plan. We agree with him. The night is useless, if you're awake ... Labruna Rather, we must find a way to kill time. You have something in mind? "
" Of course I do. I have to go check something. Would you like a ride to the port? "
" We'll take you gladly. What should you do? "
" You'll understand when we get there. "
"Of course not you tell me what's in that bag"
"It 's no point in me tell you my friend. You will see "The two smiled.
Alphonsine de Guillermo Benitez, after again dropped his aviator goggles on his forehead, fired all its weight on the right foot, gave the knob, and that gimmick red fire began to roar and jump. Again. For the first time to not put that image Esteban fear. Indeed. Benitez seemed really a knight of the past, as a mercenary heavily caparisoned, co-opted to its protection. It was a reassuring thought and unfair, they said, while he rode the bike behind the companion. Guillermo
But it was not a mercenary, was not co-opted. He was a man of instinct, of fierce dedication, courage insane. A man, an eccentric artist, who had not been "coopted" by anyone or anything, because nothing could force him to anything. He married his case simply. It made him instinctively. Would be too complicated, finally, to understand what could have led to this dangerous day before the dedication, eating plums on the beach, after yet another wild ride between the curves of the Catalan coast. Esteban understand that you said was not part of his own abilities and that nothing would be served with a simple ask, "Who you do it?". Guillermo had the feeling that he had not wanted to ask, because asking would have aroused in him insane thoughts, unfit for his acting on impulse. Who knows, while the estimated half headed centaur scarred from that increase the speed, maybe that simple request would have offended him or he would, even worse, led to assessments of their efforts too daring for the philosophy of life they had voted. So
churches. And while the bike down to the port of Barcelona, \u200b\u200bwas limited to study, remember, the expressions of his new friend, soon after made aware of their commitment to Antoni Gaudi. Judged to have been lucky to have been right, in confiding in him.

As the sun beats down on their heads of one and the red bike is red-hot Guillermo stationary, the poet, painter, had listened with an uneasy smile, staring in those blue eyes on him without embarrass him. The centaur, while Esteban explained, not without a bit 'shame the reason for that visit, it stopped only once:
"Twins metals .. you really like? "
" Yes.. I have no knowledge of art, are not as experienced as I wanted you to believe. But that framework gives me emotion. I think, for this, I can honestly say that I really like. "
"Good. We give you the same and we're going to help also for what concerns your master ... We have a teacher too. We too would do everything to save it. No matter who threaten it, no matter your Esteban ... "
So the young architect had gone on to tell and had explained that the nature of the help that could be asked. He had spoken calmly, throwing his eyes every now and then to the sea of \u200b\u200bCatalonia, latecomers to the vessels in the distance covered after fishing the night, towards the few swimmers on the rocks, towards a horizon that could, even if this thing could not please him, can not be as deep as he had hoped. Don Gaudi, mostly. And then for himself. Now that he loved in earnest, now that he had abandoned a life of luxury and debauchery that had threatened to make it a vegetable, even before, or instead of becoming a man. Self, not a burst of romantic heroism nemmanco knew what it was, mattered little in that time. But he needed help for someone very important ...
"Guillermo, you will help me then? ... I need to meet his master. I need to listen to me, give me support in whatever form he believes. Is that possible? I know it will be town tomorrow ... "
" Yes, it will be here. It was initially to stay with us, but then decided to lean in a downtown hotel. We offered to take him around, he preferred to do it alone. But for this there must be the same ... For what we are doing here in Catalonia, for our movement. We must own it. Just write a note to let him back in the hotel. The deployment of this "help" they need Antoni Gaudi, through his best friend ... "
" I'm his best friend ... "
" Oh Esteban Labruna. I do not know if you are more naive or more smart-Benitez smiled kindly -. You are indeed her closest friend. Although Gaudi Don does not know ... "
Then there was silence. Then Guillermo said some strategic directions to his traveling companion. As should have been submitted to Italy, a master of art and thought, and then explained that the best time would be spent to meet the next evening. Labruna made a mental note and did not object to anything. Only one thing came to him one last time ashamed and bewildered in his sincere modesty.
"The teacher is the most intelligent man I know said, almost whispering-Guillermo, while his blue eyes for the first time pointed to the sea - Do not lie to him as you did with me. There are no shortcuts. The most direct and quick, the fastest with him, is always the best. Indeed the only "
Esteban nodded and nodded. "More speed eh .." He added
aware "Labruna last thing: when you turn to him call him" Excellency "... I do not ever admit, but he likes"

In one stop at the port of Barcelona that evening Esteban was swift: he went with firm step in a white colonial-style building from the vagus, which stood to the liveliness of lights in the windows. He came out after about half an hour, putting an envelope in his pocket. Smiling a strange smile, like that of a person who stands a burden and, in doing so, check out pain. In its rough and caustic
perception, Guillermo judged him as the smile of someone who has forbidden toothache, while sitting on the dentist's chair.
"Then explain to me what are we doing here?"
"Sure, I'll tell you everything."
"Good. I'd say it's time. Let's go to the hotel of my teacher. Hold tight, I want to run "
" Guillermo, I ask you something? "
" Ask "
" For two days I always feel that games to fall behind, then run. Am I wrong? "
"No, Esteban. You are not wrong. If you do not need to be quick, this need we create it. It helps us to be ourselves. "
Esteban shook his head as he leaned to the powerful shoulders of Benitez and encircled in an embrace of new-found concern for the suspicion of another gymkhana in the streets of Barcelona.

"Guillermo Benitez de Alphonsine"
"Your Excellency, thank you for being here." The painter had come up with bright eyes and outstretched right hand to the vivid and skinny figure who sat cross-legged on a large green velvet chair. The suite's living room was brightly lit. In the room, a graceful female figure from the hair "The boy", tinkered with his back to the wet bar.
The handshake, although the teacher had not turned up, was strong on the part of both. Esteban stood watching the scene. The Italian
with its manicured mustache kept elegantly in a right Boulon cognac armrest of the chair. His right foot was waving frantically.
"The visit to Barcelona was profitable - just launched in Spain a clear - our movement here is still growing. How much of this is due to you, explained to me tomorrow morning with calm ... "
" Master this city is still receptive. Much remains to be do, although much has been done "
" The times they play in our favor, Benitez. The change that is taking place in our favor "
" Not all countries are Italy, Excellence
Esteban was surprised that a direct and somewhat impertinent to offer you by Guillermo to await more prim in that fast exchange.
"The bald in Italy is doing great things, you know Benitez. This is why in my country there is less to do than in the rest of Europe. For this I have the opportunity to travel "
" Fortunately Excellence
"To the fortune of the movement. Many forget that the Ours is not only a manifesto, but many other things "The voice came clear of the Italian with a mustache, grinding, drilling, almost irritated female. His words were articulated in a simple but effective English, in a rhythmic phrasing, which broadcast certainty, determination. No doubt.
The eyes of the man who twenty years earlier had designed a new model of artistic thought, he canonized a new philosophy of approach to the real, rising, or according to his detractors, lowering the level of perception to the parameters of the emerging new century, Esteban was sitting in front without bothering to look. Not arrogance, or show of force. Perhaps because he was caught, dragged, in his own words on a stage that looked just right. In any situation, in front of anyone.
This was the disconcerting feeling that drew Labruna.
Maestro Guillermo was a man who considered himself one step ahead of the others and probably was. Without the need to hide it for vainglorious humility.
He remembered in those minutes of silent study the words of his new friend the day before ...

"Some say - had told him in confidence, Guillermo, and bit into another plum on the sunny coast - that the teacher now is a tired man . That investigated enough, and completed its mission, managing to recruit followers to follow the manifesto. I think not. Our movement is now a hundred times stronger than five years ago ... I believe, however, that the time is already spent in excess of Excellence, has already directed towards other goals. To figure out what or who is not so difficult to imagine. Just look at what's going on in Italy ... "

Italy. For Esteban did not raise any particular thought. None of its strings vibrate in the name of the nation. The reference to Benitez was then dropped to nothing: if something was happening in Italy "epochal," the young Labruna not interested. No matter the changes underway in Europe and the world. He had no knowledge, could not be of interest, after all, a "fake" architect who only days earlier he had married for the first time a cause. A cause that was different. From lust, from the enjoyment of body and mind. From the unbridled fun. Esteban
But now, standing behind Guillermo regretted not being an educated man. He felt even smaller in front of that box that quickly ranged from politics to painting, prose, poetry, a rattle of names in Italian, French, English Esteban recognized only by assonance or worse, to get it ingrained in my memory involuntary of intense discussion at a table of the Ramblas. A table certainly different from his. He felt shame for the past 23 years "Minus Habens.
few minutes after the Italian with a mustache looked. Finally.
"And that your young friend? - Made all the more acute the voice - What can we do for him? "
" It 's someone you trust, your Excellency. A young man who deserves attention, we believe. If nothing else because it has a very strange story to tell "The Master of Guillermo
smiled and whispered to his" disciple "maliciously:
" Maybe. As much he will say the way in which it is telling us. " Then raising his voice and turned to the architect, said: "We feel Mr ...?"
"Labruna, my name is Esteban Labruna. I'm an architect, master, "He approached the young man a few steps.
"What a wonderful place to Catalonia! - Broke a bit 'over the top of the Italian Earth-painters and architects ... I turn and see a painter, I turn to you and I know an architect. Another. It seems that this land is a land of great talent. You are inspiring people you Catalans. Do not be afraid to experiment. To dare. The right people for me, although sometimes I do not share your ideas. I feel like home ... "
" I'm a small architect, Sir. But I had the honor of working alongside the greatest of all. "
"Antoni Gaudi" Benitez whispered ear of his master.
"Ah Gaudi" brought to him on the lips Boulon
"Yes, Sir. Antoni Gaudi is my master "
" They told me this morning that is not good, "she bit her lip
Esteban imperceptibly, he sent a look of uncertainty to Guillermo, who reciprocated with a serene smile.
"Yes. It is not right. I wanted to speak about these and other things .. and I wanted to thank you for your time "
" My time is not as valuable as you may think, a young architect. The way I live my life, I have always aimed to double it. A not multiply ... it's just a question of speed of action or refuse to sleep. - He smiled explicit - Maybe it's just a question of speed of thought. Now tell me: How can we help you? "So

Esteban told. Judging that it was the winning simplicity, the bare word, or thought about, instinctively exposed. If there was a way to break through what seemed like the shell of a man "always on", this could not only be the speed. In summarizing telling, exemplified in the situation, now make explicit the goals. Used, then, a few words. Do not be left to the emotions, it was pitiful to make implicit that desire, that need for support. He told the facts in five minutes, as they would tell a child who slavishly follows a poem or a piece of classical prose. Not reasoned. I try to be brief. As much as possible. It was a small miracle, because scriteriatamente had not prepared any speech.
starting from myself, from his role as assistant between servers, turned around on that slippery task, sull'inquietante eminent presence on prolapse of his teacher in front of a house "any", and on the flight home to Estrela . Back, finally, the shocking views expressed by the priest and his revelations of the morning. Omitted to tell that Estrela passion that made him a man, every day. Thought it was unnecessary.
then drew from the small bag he had brought an object from having so much significant in itself the meaning of all these events. Handed closer. I admire him once again but without distraction. The Italian with a mustache
listened without flinching and in five minutes he was informed. There was a short silence, which gave time to the young woman in slacks blacks to approach Excellence Boulon and replace the brandy with a glass of water and lemon.
She had a fine feature to frame and deep dark eyes, heavily made-up. I cover a slender, sinuous. An unnatural grace movements as a dancer hovering also fell from the stage. Then he spoke
Excellence, by rotating the bulb that the "new" Antoni Gaudi was adorned with three wires.
"Antoni Gaudi" whispered concentrated on the object.
"Yes, it is his work, Excellence
" I knew many years ago - resumed the Italian master - A man ... unbearable. From the aesthetic theories are absolutely unacceptable for us ... "
" This is not ... "Esteban he bit his tongue.
"... Yes, it is clear. It is not artistic and philosophical controversy. These are men, Now "we anticipate, piqued, Italian. "This is to save or not save. To help or not help. As a trial or real estate ... "
" I believe that Don Gaudi ... "
" Yes, maybe. Gaudi may also return to him. In any case you do not know when. No one knows how and especially where "
" Where? "He architect, displaced.
"You do not want to wait in the house of this woman, young man? And wait what? - Excellence smiled in the act of returning the lamp Esteban - should not the "
" Alone ... "
" It 's clear that isolated, can not do ... And that's why he came to us, right? "
" Yes, "said Labriola desolate.
"I do not ask why he came right by us, architect. I'm just trying to find a reason to help her. I hope you understand. The simple human solidarity we despise, as a useless trinket that slows down the company. It blocks the progress. It stops the growth. In the case of Gaudi, then ... Well, adding that his teacher is not exactly aligned with our thinking. - He smiled mockingly, almost bad -.. To tell the truth even with our sympathies skin
"Da man of genius ..."
"There is a reason why a man of genius is to help another, provided that you have in the presence of true genius. Her, risking his own, another architect would help only because he has his own abilities? And if that was his counterpart in the simply annoying? Or worse had dangerously different from their own ideas? "
" I do not know .. "
" I do not help. Especially because he would not even be able to tell and can thus enhance his own glory "He put the glass of water to his lips, without taking his eyes from the young Esteban was left standing, standing before him. Teso. Then he added:
"... It would be an undertaking to lose. One of those acts in themselves "
" But master the art of Gaudi ... "gasped Esteban, feeling near the end.
"Yes, yes. The art of ... as it is called here, Guillermo? ... The Architect of God 'undoubtedly important for this city, for a full supply. But you see, architect is not our CURRENT. Not our fees, it is not our philosophy. The difference we see is the same one that passes in a straight line and a curve. So this is not the motivation that I try ... "
that Guillermo was at that moment, remained silent, sitting on bench at the side of his master, he spoke. His voice had the effect of tear already penned a papyrus with hieroglyphics, how to give a shot at a top and, without stopping it, allow it to run in the opposite direction. It was amazing, amazing as it may be a phrase that changes the pace of events.
recited in a low voice, but being heard clearly:
" There is no beauty in the struggle. No work without an aggressive character can be a masterpiece "
few seconds of silence and the" machine "of God's saving the architect began to get going, with new gasoline guncotton. Was the "top" which now rests in the opposite direction.
"You're lucky, Mr. Labriola" Shooting annoyed the Italian with a mustache. "Lucky enough to be unaware of their luck." Then, turning to Benitez, addressed him: "That's a disciple who is faster than his master ... Apart from that it is not a motorcycle. Against a wall. "
Benitez looked at him impassively, without looking down.
"May I hope for your help?" Raise heartened by Labriola who understood very little of that exchange.
"Well, as we were reminded his friend Guillermo, are our own words ... require him to sit down now as well. Our Blessed be kind enough to offer her a cognac, and she will tell us what he thought for the safety of his master. "

Esteban was again called to express his thoughts in a simple, straightforward, without unnecessary frills. With the speed of someone who has clear ideas, the voracity of those who need to bite and swallow certainties. The greed of those who do not hold back any longer and wants to share their secrets. I own projects details.
He did so, while his new "tick" seemed to want to give them respite and his eyes opened wide and locked to the slot, depending on the time. It looks like a swollen river, trying to involuntarily their enthusiasm to engage with facts, with its unexpected grit. While
told by a few minutes, Benedetta had approached him and brought him another Boulon half full of perfumed Cognac. Its effluvia, while Labruna sat alongside Guillermo had the effect of their reluctance to slap definitely hidden. I own fears largely unknown. His "plan" was a real plan? If it was asked as he spoke, drawing the attention of its counterparts. While Benitez if he enjoyed a blissful smile a bit 'spastic Excellence remained impassive legs crossed and the only woman this he was, standing with his arms clasped behind his back and an expression absolutely tank, in its beauty. Not nearly collapsed on quell'abbigliarsi displayed by naughty boy. The last word
Esteban, coincided with the return of that annoying tic that had accompanied him that morning. Unnatural and nervous wringing of eyelids that made him so human, so fragile, so the soil, compared to the size of their intentions.
No. That was not a real "plan." They were just a jumble of ideas and intentions, schematically together to give a semblance of organic unity. That "that" to realize that could involve people who heard him. He could, if the people around him, were ordinary people. Maybe.
After he had finished, there was only a few seconds of silence, where no one is talking. Then Guillermo "opened the dancing
" Your plan sucks Esteban. I tell you, because you can not believe I bring any hope to achieve it "
" Nevertheless there is something good, "she added seriously the Italian with a mustache. "It is said that a plan has not obscure hope of being implemented and to succeed. After all, we give her our support, because this company, as we said Guillermo, is aggressive enough to be able to become a masterpiece. If anything, the details ... "
" Master, this is not the details. The plan makes me laugh. First of all because it is not no other salvation than that of Antoni Gaudi ... ". Benitez seemed on the point of irritation. Esteban appreciated the courage it showed in front of his master.
"It 's the great thing - interrupted Excellence -. So you do not save more than Gaudi. Is there anything more beautiful? ... The other? The others have the clarity, courage and strength to do alone. I would say, dear Benitez, that all this is quite in line with us. Do not you think? "
" Yes, Master, but .. "
"Well, our young architect shows you have courage and daring. And imagination. We understand that he does not care what will happen next. Right? "
" Just Excellent "echoed Esteban, providing another wink.
"Then the coincidences ... I would say that his choices tonight, have been quite fortunate. In that context, we can do a lot .. It 's our territory. There, we can help, but until there will have to do alone. Will also need luck. You're a lucky man, Labruna? "
" I really believe so, "
" Hopefully. On the other hand, fortune favors the brave is not it? "
"So they say. Excellence "
" will ensure that everything is ready for that day, architect. Details can put up with Guillermo, if he wants her out. I repeat that I can not help you in Barcelona, \u200b\u200bafter so. I can give her support. If the memories. "
" I remember, Your Excellency. And I hope I can count on Benitez 'He did, turning to his friend, while those not convinced, a whispered "Yes" from visceral origin. There was a
leave no frills. Excellence nodded and smiled to the woman he just put out a hand to kiss it to him Esteban.
"go with Guillermo him. Tomorrow morning we will speak, before we left for Madrid, "said the teacher" Ah Labruna - Esteban then added the Italian who was now his back towards the door - but let us know at the end as if he got away. Indeed, write to us. We certainly write. Guillermo will be able to leave our address in Milan. We will stay on hold. A peu pret, notre ami "

" As I've gotten Guillermo? "He sketched Labruna, who had just left the lobby. There was no answer, only an inaudible grunt of ill-concealed disagreement. Almost angry. "I'm sorry to have you involved ... I was hoping it could be something that ended with the help Excellence and its ... "he pressed, while his friend put on his goggles, holding it to his neck. That night in Barcelona there was people on the street. Only a slight wind invasive.
"You did not understand much of this evening, Esteban true? And you do not even understand a lot of us ... "He spoke angrily to the centaur, becoming aggressive.
"I realized I could understand and know what I needed ..." He shut Esteban
"Yes, our teacher will help you"
"Exactly ... and help me too, no?"
Alphonsine de Benitez, pulled back head in a sudden, right, disappointment and went from the motorcycle on which she had just climbed.
"I am one of his, Esteban! ... I'm not afraid to help you!" The re-launch, approaching menacingly.
"I'm the one slamming the bike into a wall .." The pointed his finger.
"But you're not going to slam your bike ... At least not voluntarily"
"Exactly, that matter would not have ever done ... Just as we do not give a damn about Gaudi.
"I thought so ..."
"So we do not like to commit ourselves to create a masterpiece, if we know that will never become a masterpiece. Did you understand? "Benitez seemed to calm down, with his bull neck, which came to be, short. Its massive trunk was first tightened, leaving a package emerge unpredictably long quell'arrabbiarsi hard-nosed. Like that of a turtle.
"Well we will be able to save my master. We'll make it. Our masterpiece is the "
" You still do not understand. Our masterpiece would do that without leaving anyone behind ... But I understand that someone will be back. No?
"Maybe," Esteban blinked his eyes, bowing his head slightly.
"The" maybe "is not enough. I need that at least there is a possibility. A project of "ca-po-la-vo-ro" ... I need another plan. Your disgusting. Let pieces of this story back. Does not provide anything for the central characters in the picture, does not close the rhyme of a verse ... It's really disgusting ... "
" Ah well ... "
" So we feel scoglionati leaving "snorted the painter.
"But your teacher agreed with me"
"For a teacher, just save Gaudi's masterpiece. You are nothing. Or do you believe that he admires you for your courage? Now'll be laughing with Benedict.
"And you think otherwise, right?"
"Sure,"
"I'm a heart then? Although we know only for two days ... "She smiled
imprudent" Do not be stupid. You're part of the package. You can not tirartene out. My masterpiece about you and Gaudi. Without that there is no "masterpiece" .... No firm. And I do not have any aggression. And I repeat: I feel scoglionato.
"You're weird Guillermo, you know ... And then that phrase. What's this?
"Twenty years ago, the Excellency wrote something that has inspired artists, philosophers and politicians from across Europe. That was one of its points. He could not ignore "
" You were great, Benitez "
" It had to help him for the fact that you had asked. Only for the fact that you brought that company had in it the beauty of the fight, aggression to a masterpiece ... I Did I just remembered. We told you so, Esteban: Italian is not tired, it's only shown on other companies'
"Italian? How you talk, Guillermo ... "
" spoken like "
" You sound like a disappointed person "
" We speak as we are ... But if you want to know how much we like the new goals of our teacher, I tell you I do not know. "
"You mean what happens in Italy" He Esteban, pretending to know that reality.
"I am referring to the fact that art, philosophy must remain away from politics because they may become a tool. I'm not afraid that they are more slaves in the present, they always have ... It scares me that they are more direct expression, and that they are contaminated and that ... And that Tramontin the disappearance of certain policy. I do not want my art to be compared to governments, political movements, to heads of state ... If art was to corrupt politics, everything is better, the problem is that is always the opposite. Even if excellence does not admit it .. "The two looked
. Guillermo bitter smile, Esteban nodded dumbfounded. The Centaur put on his glasses and went back astride his bike.
"Monta now - Guillermo made mandatory - we still have a lot to be clarified. In the meantime, hold on tight. I want to run "
" Guillermo? "He called Labruna, while giving the rider and increased the speed dial between the deserted streets of Barcelona.
"Tell me"
"Before you speak for a few seconds at first ..." He ironic
"Yet you squinted at least ten times," said Benitez, seriously.
For Esteban seemed a fair compromise, but he seemed to become the master of an entire city. His. It was said that that too was on his side.