Read Online At Close Quarters by Eugenio Fuentes - Free Book Online

satisfaction of a job well done. The other was a winding road, but at the same time a fascinating one, because it meant entering virgin territory, without tracks or signs or bridges, where he’d have to clear his own path. It led to Gabriela, but he could not be sure that, on arrival, she would welcome him as openly as a new office would. He knew that she liked him, that things worked out when they saw each other, when they made love, or when they occasionally travelled together. But her commitment went only so far. Gabriela still kept things back, did not share the embers of grief that awakened her in the middle of the night, the pain that singed her heart at any recollection of her son’s death. Her feelings of loss had prevented him from suggesting they live together or, if she wanted, even get married. Olmedo had finally understood their relationship would not move forward before hiscapacity for consolation improved. There might be a degree of pain, he thought, that encourages other feelings, enhances one’s sensibility, nourishes the hope to find the kind of happiness that will cure one’s wounds. But too much suffering is sterile, searing the heart and scorching the ground of feelings with the salt of tears. Gabriela was very close to being in that position, and he wouldn’t be able to pull her out if he was too far away.
    A little later he realised the bottle was half empty and he’d finished the fish without tasting or even noticing what he was eating. Surprised, he put down his knife and fork, and looked at the beach where at that moment, the onset of the afternoon, more and more strollers and sunbathers were arriving and spreading out their towels on the sand. He felt a strong desire to take off his uniform for a few hours, put on a bathing suit, and swim to the point of exhaustion. Suddenly, with absolute clarity, he saw what his life without Gabriela would be like: a job in which it would not be easy for him to befriend new people; a separation from his daughter now she seemed so happy with her quiet boyfriend, who was so different from her ex-husband; quick solitary meals which he would wolf down rather than savour; the odd cultural event in which he would confirm that men of the past had created enduring works of art to relieve themselves of anxieties not unlike the one he was experiencing.
    At first, when he met Gabriela, he thought it was loneliness that had brought them together; they satisfied each other’s need for company, tenderness, and the spice of sex. Gabriela was attractive , but he soon realised that, even if that were not the case, it would not have made any difference. At his age canonical female beauty didn’t matter so much. All women are equal, he’d once thought; if there’s anything that distinguishes one from the other it is what each might be prepared to give. It is generosity, affection , sweetness and intelligence that establish the enormous gap between one and the other, what makes them vulgar or magnificent . In only a few weeks he had realised that his feelings were not just a form of pleasure. He’d fallen in love with her when he wasgetting used to living alone and now she was as essential to him as the wind to the flag. Now he had hopes for the future, he didn’t know how much solitude he could bear. Since his wife had died in those ridiculous circumstances – at an operating theatre, as she underwent aesthetic surgery – he had not felt like this. He liked to compare his love for Gabriela to the grains of wheat that archaeologists , digging into a pyramid, had found in a three-thousand-year-old vase, left there to feed the deceased pharaoh in his new life. Brought back to light, the grain had germinated. Gabriela, he told himself, had made him flower again, awakened him from his sentimental apathy. In return he was prepared to be generous and would try to make up for all she had suffered.
    He pushed the full glass away and made up his mind, although he was aware that