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in the courtyard

manuela barbuiani


��Old Teresa sits in the middle of the courtyard waiting to die. Her head falls out of her hand now and then and her mouth emits strange painful sounds. The court yard is silent except for the fountain in its center, the fountain which Teresa’s husband built by crossing two boards together which swirl like a ceiling fan and wet all around. In a corner of the yard is a young girl with her back turned to Teresa. She sits at a cherry wood desk, writing intensely. It is to her that Old Teresa has confessed that she is awaiting to die, today, in the afternoon heat. Once in a while, the girl turns to look at Old Teresa who sits in her green velvet armchair in the middle of the courtyard. She sees Teresa’s hand slipping away from her head incessantly and her large body slowly approaching the ground.
��A man with dark wrinkled skin enters the yard carrying a brown paper bag. His name is Pepino. His body is unbalanced by his bulging pants pockets which cause him to be wider than he is long. He walks unevenly to where Old Teresa is sitting and sets the bag at her feet. He taps her shoulder. Old Teresa opens her right eye slowly then her left. She first looks over to where the girl is writing then to the short man bending in front of her.
��“Here they are, can I go now?” he asks. His face has become sprinkled by the water of the fountain next to him.
��“I’m waiting to die today,” Old Teresa says.
��“Can I go now?” the man repeats, then leaves without awaiting an answer.
��The girl has turned her attention to Old Teresa who is struggling with the brown paper bag. Finally, she retrieves a large pair of worn out army boots. She smiles.
��“Come here,” she says to the girl.
��The girl quickly moves near Old Teresa.
��The old woman’s movements have become fast and excited. She puts the boots on and lets the braided string fall to the side. The girl follows her movements.
��“I love them. Now I am ready for war,” Old Teresa says.
��“War?” the girl asks.
��“War with death,” Teresa answers.
��The girl returns to her desk.
��“It sure worked for my husband and my three boys. It was long ago, I know. But believe me every time they slipped into these boots, for sure, they died. “
��“The same boots?” the girl asks with her back turned once again.
��“Yes. They always brought me back the bodies and the boots. The least they could do for men who served their country, they used to say.”
��Old Teresa waits for a response and looks in the direction of the desk. The girl continues writing. Her floral dress falls below her knees and her long black hair is lose on her back.
��The afternoon sun has set behind the large wooden door. The courtyard is submerged in green golden light amongst the green fountain, the green chair and Teresa’s green dress .
��Old Teresa has once more fallen asleep. She slowly slips off the chair and pulls herself back up again. Her loud snore echoes throughout the courtyard. Her thick legs spread apart in the glory of her oversized army boots.
��When Old Teresa awakens, the courtyard around her is dark and she is cold from the fountain water which has switched direction and entirely wetted her small head of hair. The girl is still at the desk writing under the glare of a rusty oil lamp. Old Teresa has slept with her weight on her hip and mumbles under her breath while readjusting herself. The girl does not turn.
��“Christ and all. I haven’t even died yet!” Old Teresa exclaims.
��The old wrinkled man appears again from behind the wooden door.
��“You missed supper, Teresa,” he says standing in front of her with his hands behind his back and his eyes focused on the wet pavement.
��“Well, just bring it out here,” she says
��“It’s cold now.”
��“What difference does it make? It makes no difference,” she says.
��Pepino leaves while mumbling under his breath and closes the door loudly behind him.
��“You figure he could put all that money in the bank sometimes. All that money, he just carries it around in his pocket like it’s bird food,” Teresa says while looking around for her cane. “Do you realize that man has never once gone to the bank.” She bends forward and starts to wander her hand all around the pavement as though she were blind. “Nobody does he trust,” she places the cane in front of her and leans all her weight into it. “It’s all the money he’s ever made, just carries it in his pockets. Just in his pockets. Never washed those pants. God!” She raises her large body groaning like a wild animal. She stands on her three legs looking at the fountain and shaking her head. “Damn thing!” She leans into her cane and looks down at her boots.
��“I love them,” she utters.
��She begins to walk around the fountain with great effort. She circles it many times before the wrinkled man appears again. He carries a large tray which he sets on the ground. He leaves again and comes back with a small table. He sets the table in front of the green velvet chair and places the tray on top of it.
��“i’m going to bed,” Old Teresa says.
��“What?” the man cries.
��“I’m going to bed, I said. Bring my cot out here. I want to sleep outside tonight.”
��The man turns mumbling heavily under his breath and shaking his head violently from side to side.
��Old Teresa walks over to the table and looks at the food, “Oh well,” she says.
��Pepino comes back with a folded cot. He wheels it loudly into the yard, speaking over the sound of the wheels. “You wore me out today Teresa. First those damn boots than this. All of it I do it. I just get paid to clean the courtyard”.
��“You crazy old man!” she says walking over to her chair.
��Pepino turns and shuts the heavy door behind him.
��Teresa picks up a small slice of yellow cheese from the tray of food. She looks down at the small mound of rice with green peas in the center of the plate. Next to the plate is carafe of red wine, a small glass and a peeled apple. Old Teresa pours wine in the glass and drinks quickly.
��“Well, I guess i’m not going to die today, “ she says speaking in the girl’s direction.
��Such a strange girL she thinks. Two weeks ago she appeared at the door of the courtyard with a pen and a book and asked to come in and write. “I just need a place to write for a while,” she said. It was a strange thing to ask but Teresa was not able to drive the girl away, so she asked Pepino to find a nice desk for the girl and a chair and a lamp. Since that day, she has sat at the desk writing endlessly. The girl told Teresa that to show her gratitude, she would write Teresa’s life. She would sit there for as long as Teresa wished. Teresa would let her know when to end. Teresa was flattered instantly.
��She throws her body heavily on the cot causing the mattress to touch the ground. She looks at the dark sky above her then moves to her side.
��“For sure, tomorrow, i’m going to die, “ she mumbles one last time under her breath.
��
��Teresa awakens under a burning sun and Pepino shaking her violently. She sits on the cot and brushes her gray stringy hair away from her face.
��“Is it time for breakfast?” she asks Pepino.
��“Breakfast? You foolish old woman. It is two in the afternoon.”
��Teresa remembers when there was a time she did not awake before afternoon. When her husband kept her in bed past lunch time. She was a young girl then with eternity facing her. Everyday her husband would say to her: “Don’t go yet Teresa. What in the world is waiting for you but me right here?” So she would return to his body, inside his inescapable embrace because she knew that he was right, there was nothing awaiting her aside from him. It saddened her sometimes. Since his death, she has never opened her eyes before afternoon.
��Pepino is still standing, facing her.
��“Lunch then. Bring me my lunch. i’m hungry.”
��Pepino walks through the courtyard and exits through the large wooden door.
��Old Teresa looks to the far angle of the courtyard where the girl still sits writing at the table. Old Teresa rises and moves to the girl. She walks slowly on top of the pebble stones with her heavy black army boots still on her feet. When she reaches the girl she leans over her shoulder. She steps back in surprise and lifts the girl to her feet.
��“But it is blank! How can it be!” Old Teresa screams while shaking the girl like a rag doll. The girl remains expressionless. She looks back at the table, glares at the book unable to stay away from its presence, needing to return to it.
��“Speak, you silly girl, speak.”
��“It is not blank, Teresa. It’s full of words.”
��“Are you crazy? What words? I don’t see any words,” Old Teresa screams in the girl’s ear raising the book to her face.
��“You just have to look closer, you’ll see. The words are there,” the girl says.
��“Ah! Ah!” Old Teresa screams letting go of the girl and of the book. “You sit there all day long and write and write but it is blank! I better forget it all or i’ll go mad.”
��Old Teresa returns to her chair and awaits her food. She does not know when this death of hers will finally come but it is making her angry. She pulls her dress higher above her knees and pats her belly gently with her hands. She massages her large breast inside their eternal brassier. It occurs to her that perhaps she has not yet died because there is something which has been left undone. She thinks that perhaps God will not let her go until she has made love one last time. She knows that her body will not be a pleasure to touch or that her skin will not be so wonderful to smell but after all it won’t be so bad, someone won’t mind it so much. Yes, indeed, she would make love one last time and then die.
��Pepino waLks through the door with his pockets still full of money and the tray of food in his hands. It occurs to Old Teresa that Pepino is not so sweet- smelling himself and that his body is as scaly and old as hers.
��“Pepino will you make love to me?”
��The tray of food falls from Pepino’s hands and resonates loudly throughout the courtyard. He does not look at Old Teresa and instead begins to run toward the door.
��“Pepino!” Old Teresa orders.
��Pepino slowly turns around and walks towards her with his head bent to the ground.
��“It’ll clean up the food,” he says.
��“No need, i’ll be dead soon.”
��“i’m going to leave now,” he hesitates towards the door again.
��“Come here, Pepino. You need to fold my cot.”
��Pepino moves to the cot and bends to release the springs. Old Teresa watches his buttocks as he bends further. Not so bad, she thinks.
��“Leave it there now,” she says.
��“Listen Teresa, this is too much for me,” Pepino’s face is lost in desperation
��“How long has it been for you?” Old Teresa asks signaling for him to come closer.
��“Since my woman died. But that’s not the point.”
��“Don’t you want to? It won’t be so bad. You may like it. My old man sure did!” she says slapping her knees. “Listen i’m going to go upstairs. i’m going to wash up for you and make myself look nice. You11 see, i’ll surprise you,” Old Teresa says passing her hand through her hair.
��Pepino raises his eyes from the pavement and looks at her face. Teresa’s smile has become soft. Her eyes are sparkling like a young girl’s.
��“Give me ten minutes then come up,” she says rising from her chair. She moves to him and touches his hair. “Maybe you can clean yourself up a bit in the fountain.n She bounces quickly across the yard carrying her weight behind her while her large rear end moves to some unknown rhythm. She can be heard breathing restlessly as she disappears up the stairs. One last time, she looks down at Pepino. He has removed his pants and is lying motionless in the fountain with his hand plugging his nose and bubbles coming through his mouth.
��
��The bedroom is dark at this time of day. The sky is filled with wind and Old Teresa can smell the rain approaching. She sits naked on the bed. Her hair is wet and combed close to her scalp; her skin smells like moss. Her breasts fall like two wrinkled fruits to her thighs. Her hands rest behind her back awaiting to feel a man one last time.
��It is not long before Pepino walks through the door. He stands half in the shadow, half in the light. Teresa unexpectedly feels the need to cover her body somehow. She moves her hands to her knees but realizes that she will never be able to cover it all.
��Pepino closes the door behind him and walks to Teresa. He removes his shirt, his pants filled with money and his shorts. He stands straight in front of her, allowing her to look at him, to see him, to still change her mind. He is a thin man with dark, cracked skin from head to toe.
��Old Teresa can almost see his heart through the translucence of his skin.
��Pepino walks closer to Teresa, falls to his knees, and places his head on her naked thighs. Teresa touches his hair, it is softer than she had expected, much like her own. She lifts his face and looks into his eyes and realizes that he is no longer Pepino but only a man.
��In the cave-like room, waiting for the rain to arrive, Pepino and Teresa move their bodies close to one another on the bed. Pepino restlessly kisses her cheeks, her head, her chin, but never her lips because in her lips he would taste her age. He is moving fast, almost frantically on top of her. Teresa lies still with her eyes shut. Pepino touches her skin as though he were kneading dough, his hands wander all around. Pepino’s body soon becomes hard and it isn’t long before Teresa opens her eyes wide and screams and sees the cat on the window sill. The cat appears to be fascinated with the way Pepino moves up and down, raising his body so high above Teresa, almost touching the low ceiling, and then throwing himself back down crushing her skin on all sides. The cat sits shameless watching the two bodies rub one another like two giant pieces of leather.
��It is not long before Pepino’s body falls one last time and rolls off the side of the bed, falling flat on his back with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Old Teresa, realizing that Pepino has made quite an extreme move, looks quickly on to the floor. “Pepino,” she utters while wrapping the sheet around her. She leaves the bed and moves to his side. “Pepino, what are you doing now?” Pepino’s eyes ignore her . Teresa puts her head to his chest then his stomach. “What are you doing Pepino?” she asks again. She taps him lightly then shakes him from side to side but he remains limp in her arms.
��Teresa stands and wraps the white sheet closer around her. She opens and closes the door and begins to descend the stairs with her long train following her. Her face has become long, her eyes filled with rage, her fists tight on both sides of her body. She descends slowly realizing that death has once again betrayed her.
��The girl is still at her desk with the lamp lit next to her moving hand. Her hair dances all around in the wind. Writing nothing again, Teresa thinks. Teresa places herself fully on her chair, sitting straight like a queen ready for war.
��“i’m sorry,” the girl says without changing position.
��“What the hell are you sorry for?”
��“I’m sorry for Pepino.”
��“What do you know about that man?”
��“I know what you know.”
��“What are you writing for Christ’s sake?” Teresa yells across the courtyard to no one in particular.
��The girl slowly turns to Teresa and covers her with her eyes. Teresa thinks that the girl appears older tonight, as though she is slowly aging just by sitting there and writing at her desk. Teresa wonders if she really is writing her life and how long it will take her. She rises from the chair and carries her body and her long white sheet to the desk. She bends over the girl’s shoulder.
��“Incredible!” she shouts.
��“What is it?” the girl asks.
��“What is this ink you use?” Teresa asks taking the pen in her hand.
��“What are you talking about?”
��“It can’t be ink,” Teresa says shaking the pen up and down in front of her.
��“You will break it that way,” the girl says taking the pen from Teresa’s hand.
��“You must be a fool to think that you are writing something when it is always blank,” Teresa says making her way back to her chair.
��“And you must be a fool not to see,” the girl shouts back writing on the last page.
��“And you—” Teresa turns violently. But the girl is no longer at the desk. Teresa’s eyes circle the courtyard and return to the desk. The girl has vanished. She has not taken the book with her and has left without a sound. “That silly girl. That silly, silly girl,” she moans under her breath.
��The wind has gained strength and Teresa knows the rain will arrive soon. She thinks of Pepino lying naked and cold on her floor with the cat still gazing his way. She raises her eyes and sees dark clouds moving closer to the courtyard. “You must have misunderstood me!” she yells to the sky.
��She slowly makes her way back to her chair with the book in her hands. The pages follow the wind and flip between her fingers. She lowers her head and finds the thick black letters sinking deep within the fiber of the paper she carries. But her eyes are old and tired, and no longer have the youth to dance across a page.
��The thunder shouts loudly above the courtyard, and Old Teresa knows that death is finally in the sky.



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