SIETE MINUTOS

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ISMAEL CAMACHO ARANGO
Translated and edited by Maria Camacho
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SIETE MINUTOS


Beginnings
The backyard looked dark with its muddy floor and shrubs growing by the wall, as the sun careered through the sky in its journey towards infinity. Homer played with his toys by the edge of a puddle, where his paper boats sailed towards infinity before capsizing in the mud.
“Hurrah,” he said.
Homer danced around the water, as a woman wearing a dressing gown and her hair tied in a bun, stood by the puddles Homer had made amidst the mud. Mother pushed a few strands of hair back while shivering in the breeze blowing through the garden.
“It’s time for lunch,” she said.
Those words brought Homer back to reality. He had to eat before conquering the world. Mother waited as he put his cars on a ledge by the door and away from
“Wash your hands now,” she said.
Leaving a trail of mud on the floor, he washed himself in the sink as father appeared at the door. Middle aged, plump and with a round face, Mr. Homer had to fight the devils of the market in a daily basis as mother brought the food to the table.
“I have a surprise for you,” father said.
Mother stopped with a plate in her hands, smoke rising to the ceiling like a staircase to heaven. Father didn’t bring surprises very often, apart from a day when he had found a puppy in the street but she had taken it to the dog shelter in spite of Homer’s complaints. A tall man interrupted the silence, his glasses shining under the light as silence filled everything.
“Uncle Hugh,” mother said. “We didn’t expect you today.”
“I have to work in the country.”
“Your job must be exciting,” she said.
Mother poured soup on another bowl as Uncle Hugh sat at the table.
“How was your journey?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I felt sick all the time.”
“You should have taken an alka seltzer.”
“Nothing works for me.”
“New York must be missing you,” father said.
Uncle Hugh had not enjoyed the fresh Caribbean sun amidst his bouts of sickness, while his stomach hurt. Then the man put a large hand on Homer’s shoulders.
“I remember the day you rescued a dollar bill,” he said.
“After flying up the branches of a tree, he put it in his wet nappy,” mother said.
Homer knew all the rest. A neighbour who happened to be hanging the washing at that moment had dropped her husband’s pants in the mud, and he left her for the barmaid living next door. School children sang songs of glory, as Father Ricardo praised the qualities of the child during Sunday mass because he was a star. Then Uncle Hugh found a black and white photograph in his bag.
“This is you,” he said. “I took this picture with my first camera.”
Homer saw a chubby baby without much hair and a toothless smile, sitting in a chair. The man waited for the reaction to that moment in time when he had snapped reality forever.
“I developed it in my studio,” Uncle Hugh said.
“I remember those times,” mother said.
Mother served lunch in his plate, while talking of Homer’s birth in the mist of time. Born during a solar eclipse, he had cried with the retreating shadows while the doctors and nurses looked at the sun from the hospital roof. An old nurse who didn’t have good eyes had helped with the delivery, when she muttered those famous words:
“You have a girl,” she said.
The sun hid behind the moon as mother thought she had a daughter and father sulked. The nurse found her mistake a few minutes later.
“He was full of hair,” father said.
Mrs. Homer held a baby in one of the pictures in the wall, while Homer stood next to his parents in another one.
“Why did you call him Homer?” Uncle Hugh asked.
“We thought it might bring him luck.”
“He’s Homer Homer then.”
“That’s the idea.”
Uncle Hugh found a shiny cent in one of his pockets but Homer wanted to go back to the backyard, where his paper boats had battled against the ants invading the world.
“Put it in your money box,” he said. “It will bring you good luck.”
“He’s a good boy,” mother said.
Homer admired the coin as the adults spoke about nothing in particular and the brown marks on the wall turned into monsters, fighting amidst the buildings of New York.
“Mum,” he said.
“You can have more soup,” she said.
Homer shook his head. “I want to play outside.”
“Silly child,” she said.
“He’s full of beans,” Uncle Hugh said.
Homer had to get some fresh air before his life finished once more but the adults didn’t care.
“He’ll get filthy,” mother said.
Uncle Hugh spoke of chasing film stars in their limousines in a place called Broadway, where Marilyn Monroe showed her pants forever on a day lost in time. Homer left the room as the adults discussed the value of the dollar in the world market and the backyard looked different. A boy appeared amidst the mud and Homer had a sense of déjà vu, while studying the child.
“Hello,” he said.
The stranger wiped his nose, leaving muddy streaks across his face as he didn’t have any manners.
“Would you like to play with my cars?” Homer asked.
The child ran one of the trucks along the dirt leading to the fence before picking his nose.
“I come from the jungle,” he said.
Those words broke the spell in Homer’s world.
“You’re a liar,” he said.
“I’m not.”
They fought amidst the dirt, disturbing a few birds looking for worms but as Homer barked, the child stopped his attack.
“I’m a dog,” Homer said.
“You are not.”
Jose took a deep breath and barked as Homer clapped his hands.
“Yes,” he said.
They barked while the dog next door howled and Homer’s mother appeared at the door.
“That dog is noisy,” she said. “I’ll complain to the owner.”
Homer must have met the boy under the dark sun or in another universe where time didn’t exist. The child gestured at the stars that had appeared in the sky.
“They’re mine,” he said.
Homer saw specks of light shimmering through the darkness, but the child chanted strange words to the night.
“Two and two are seven,” he said.
Homer frowned. “No, it isn’t.”
“I say whatever I want.”
“It’s your mouth.”
Shadows spread around them as more stars appeared in the sky and Jose ran around the tree.
“You have to remember,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Homer asked.
“You’ll see.”
Homer looked at the stars in a world he didn’t understand, where time and space merged into nothingness.
“I’m Jose as you know,” the child said.
Then the backyard looked empty, the shadows spreading everywhere.
On moving through the darkness, Homer stumbled on a few papers his mother must have dropped on the floor. The words didn’t make any sense or they had to be in another language. Homer could take them to Father Ricardo, who knew all about the bible and other things in Latin.
“It must be rubbish,” he muttered to himself.
The adults stopped talking as Homer appeared at the door.
“You must throw those papers away,” his mother said.
“I need them,” Homer said.
“He likes to recycle all kinds all things,” his father said.
Homer spent a boring evening, as his parents counted the money they had earned during the day and Uncle Hugh told them about his life in the USA. The stars burned in the sky like Jose had said, a few shadows dancing by the tree.
“Mum,” he said.
“You must be tired,” she said.
“Don’t have bad dreams,” Uncle Hugh said.
Homer rushed upstairs after wishing them goodnight. Once in his room, he counted all the pesos he had collected over the weeks, but his uncle’s coin was the prettiest. Homer put it in his bag before going to sleep.
Uncle Hugh slept in the guest room, next to the marks on the wall undergoing some kind of transformation. Homer imagined his uncle fighting the spirits of the night, while retreating into a world of fantasy, dreams and nightmares. Jose had to be real if he had played with his toy cars but he had to remember something...


Maria
Jose’s last words didn’t make any sense as Homer danced around the tree of life chanting to the stars, scaring the squirrels and stepping on centipedes.
“Where are you?” he asked.
The breeze moved his hair and the birds looked for worms in the grass. Jose had to be on the other side of the garden, where the bushes formed a green mass of plants and hedges around the pond.
“Hi,” someone said.
A pretty girl, wearing a blue dress had appeared by his side. At first Homer thought he imagined her, but then she showed her perfect teeth in the most beautiful smile of his life.
“You’re real,” he said.
The girl’s laughter interrupted the silence of his world, while he played with his clothes. Then she looked serious.
“I’m Miguel’s daughter,” she said.
The man helping in his parent’s shop had to be Miguel and this wonderful creature his daughter. The sound of a dog interrupted his reverie.
“I don’t like dogs,” she said.
They ran back into the kitchen where a cluttered table stood by a sink full of saucepans. On tidying away some of the chaos, he found the tricycle Uncle Hugh had given him a long time ago.
“My parents came here in a big ship,” Homer said.
She frowned. “They must be rich.”
“It had many floors, and windows.”
He explained how they had bought the shop after borrowing money from Uncle Hugh but the business had been slow during the last few months.
“Dad showed me the seagulls chasing the ship.”
“Seagulls?”
“They catch flying fish.”
He showed her a magazine with pictures of the seagulls catching their fish. Those birds reminded him of their trip, when father had lots of herbal tea to cure his sea sickness.
“This is not my country,” he said.
“I don’t think it matters.”
On longing for that other place he had never known, he felt sad, but then crumbs fell between the infinity of her breasts while she ate a biscuit. He had to be strong for his future.
“Your parents should sell coca leaves,” she said.
“Coca?” he asked.
She nodded. “The Indians will travel long distances to buy it.”
Homer’s eyes rose from her breasts to her face. He would keep her by his side forever, even if he had to get whatever she wanted.
“Father buys coca from Coconucos in the central cordillera,” she said.
After rummaging in her bag, she found a few crushed leaves without any smell.
“Put them in your mouth,” she said.
He followed her instructions, tasting the leaves while hearing of the Indians chewing their coca on their journeys through the Andes. Homer imagined them queuing outside the shop, bringing the spells of the jungle to his business. She touched the palms of his hands, making his hairs stand on end.
“Your life will end with the sun,” she said.
“How do you know?”
“It happened some time ago.”
“It’s spooky.”
Her mother had taught her to read palms on quiet evenings, when her brothers and sisters had gone to sleep on the muddy floor. The sun made shapes under the curtains as her teats trembled like jelly and an erection lifted his pants, but he had to be strong. Then he showed her the papers Jose had left an eternity ago.
“He was my invisible friend,” he said. “We went around the tree of life, chanting to the stars.”
“It looks like the Egyptian language,” she said.
It had to be a magical language if Jose had known it.
“Can you decipher them for me?” Homer asked.
“You can call me Maria.”
“Maria,” he said. “Will you help me to translate the papers?”
“I’m always busy.”
She lived in a small room with only three beds and a cooker in the corner, while her father slept on the sofa and some of her brothers on the floor. Homer listened to all the problems she had in her life filled with mud and tears.
“I have seen rats in the latrine,” she said.
“A latrine?”
“It’s a hole in the backyard.”
He had never heard of such a thing. They had to move over piles of rubbish strewn on the floor to go to the latrine by the shed. Maria looked relaxed, in spite of her ordeal. As she talked, he noticed the crucifix moving between her breasts like a lost angel. Homer wanted to eat her slowly, tasting every bit of her for eternity.
“Would you sleep with me tonight?” he asked.
“I’d have to marry you first.”
She wouldn’t accept the offer of his bed, even if she had to sleep with her family in a cramped room.
“I’ll buy you a house when I’m a millionaire,” he said.
“You’ll forget me.”
“I won’t,” he said.
“It says in your hands.”
Then mother appeared at the door, clutching a handkerchief.
“Your father is sick,” she said.
After running up the stairs, Homer found father in bed, the room smelling of incense and herbs. Illness was a luxury father couldn’t afford when they needed money to renovate the shop.
“He had a convulsion a few minutes ago,” mother said.
Father had gone to bed, complaining of a pain in his arm that morning. A bottle of aspirin lay on the bedside table, the best drug in the world according to her, while the clock on the wall marked the passage of time. Homer must have lived through it all in another dimension he had forgotten about.
“Miguel has gone to call the doctor,” mother said.
They waited in silence, darkness stretching up to infinity outside the window while mother muttered a prayer.
“Everything will be fine,” Maria said.
Then the room turned icy, incense filling everything as mother prayed to her God and Homer didn’t feel any pulse in his father’s wrists. Everybody had to have a pulse or they would die. He heard his own screams of pain lost in time.


Darkness
Homer struggled against the darkness swallowing his soul while hot tears ran down his cheeks. It had to be a mistake.
“He is asleep,” he said.
Maria let him suck her teats or he might have imagined it, while forgetting his pain in the toilet for a few minutes but he couldn’t rape her.
“You must take this,” she gave him coca leaves mixed with aguardiente, a good medication for a broken soul.
“Think in your mother,” she said
She helped him to the living room, where a few of the neighbours wanted to pay their respects to the family.
“We are sorry,” they said.
Miguel organised everything during the next few hours when people came to the house and Maria brought lots of cups of coffee. Mother rested in her bed, oblivious to everything going on around her but Homer might have lived through it all. Standing in the backyard, he remembered the tree swaying in the breeze on that day enveloped in time.
“Are you all right?” Maria asked.
“Let’s go to the toilet,” he said.
“I’m a virgin.”
They wrestled by the coffin while the house bustled with people, paying their respects to his father. Maria let him push her towards the darkness before a voice interrupted their concentration.
“It’s time to go,” the undertaker said.
Homer took Maria to the carriage by the front door, as the horses kicked on the floor, his mind wandering back to that moment when he had appeared beside the tree of life in another dimension. Time went in a blur, as he chewed coca leaves. He had to find a reason for that journey his parents had undertaken in search of paradise, as drops of rain joined his tears in the saddest day of his life. Homer had to go back to that limbo where his soul had come from, although he couldn’t remember much about it. His life had changed during the last few hours, when he had lost the man he loved and his mother trusted father Ricardo.
Looking in his pockets, he found some more coca leaves, the cure for the pain in his soul. Then the shadows parted, revealing more of that day lost in time, when Uncle Hugh had brought him a few presents from that other country. Homer kissed Maria’s hands, watching the cars speeding by their side while the coffin trembled in the back of the carriage. He caressed her breasts for all the help he had during his pain.
“Not now,” she said.
“I know everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.”
It had been a journey besieged by problems, just the way his father must have battled in a foreign country, although the memory of that journey seemed distant and frail. He had to make sure his mother didn’t come to any harm before the night ended.


The cemetery
On arriving at the cemetery, they saw the graves welcoming them to the land of the death, where father Ricardo prayed to his God. The priest welcomed them with his blessings before turning back to his prayers in order to send father’s soul to a better place.
“You must trust in him,” Father Ricardo said.
Homer didn’t want to believe in a God, cruel enough to take his father into another kingdom, never returning to his land but the priest wanted to have his attention. Then he put some holy water in the grave, scaring Satan away in the hope of getting a good place for a soul in heaven. Homer had to trust in the priest’s intentions towards his family, as the coffin descended into the bowels of the earth in order to wait for the Day of Judgment, whenever it would be.
“I want to go home,” Homer said.
Maria led him through the graves full of mortal remains decomposing in the mud, the sound of thunder interrupting his pain.
“I don’t trust Father Ricardo,” he said.
“You are paranoid.”
Homer had to awaken from the limbo he had fallen into since father’s death, as he held Maria’s hands. Then he relieved that day when he had bad news, lightning illuminating part of the cemetery in another time.
“He mustn’t touch her,” he said.
He ran through the graves, hearing Maria’s calls, the birds getting out of his way before collapsing by a mausoleum by the entrance.
“Don’t worry,” Maria said.
Homer had to think in his mother, alone in the world and in the hands of God’s representative on earth. He tried to forget the feeling of doom, while thinking in ways of helping his mother to earn their money in the shop by the market. Taking Maria’s hands, he promised her many things, even if the girl didn’t let him touch her nipples.
“Father wants me to marry a rich man,” she said.
“I’ll be the richest man in town,” he said.
Maria hoped he wouldn’t change his mind, his hand touching her pants and father Ricardo appeared amongst the tombs.
“This is God’s home,” the priest said.
“I know,” Homer said.
“You must behave then.”
Homer led Maria away from death. They ran along the fields, feeling the wind in their faces, while the priest prayed to his God and a dog chased them through the meadows.
“I don’t trust Father Ricardo,” he said.
Holding her hands, he slipped his fingers along her breasts before anyone interrupted them.
“You must think in your mother,” she said.
“She likes you.”
She crossed the street, leaving Homer all alone in a world he didn’t understand sometimes but he wanted to rape her that night.


Tragedy
As mother buried herself in a room full of memories, Homer tried to come to terms with his father’s death, Maria’s charm filling everything in his life. One morning a few weeks later, he found an envelope with a nice stamp by the door. Uncle Hugh had sent them money to board a ship on route to New York. Homer danced around the kitchen, as Maria appeared at the door.
“I’m going to New York,” he said.
He showed her the letter inviting them to a city full of opportunities in spite of the recession. Uncle Hugh’s Pictures showed the Statue of Liberty raising its torch to the sky, calling for them to come to another world.
“How can they climb to the top?” she asked.
“They have lifts,” Homer said.
“Lifts?”
“They’re metal boxes inside the buildings.”
As Maria tried to understand the wonders of the USA, Homer took the tray up to mother’s bed.
“Breakfast is here,” he said.
Putting the tray on her lap, he helped her to sit up on the bed. She looked tired even if she had slept all day.
“Shall I call the doctor?” he asked.
Mother cut the bacon with the knife, before mixing it with the eggs. As she sipped her cup of tea, Homer summoned enough courage to give her the news.
“Uncle Hugh has written to us,” he said.
Mother looked for the glasses on the bedside table before reading the letter with the nice handwriting. Homer watched her reaction to his uncle’s invitation while pouring some more juice in the glass.
“We won’t have another chance,” he said.
Mother buttered her bread while he tried to convince her of the benefits of New York on her health and well being. A big city might offer more opportunities in their lives.
“New York is cold in winter,” she said.
“We’ll get a heater.”
She lay back on the bed, ignoring the letter of hope. Homer had to fight against her stubbornness to get what he wanted.
“We have to talk about this,” he said.
Mother pretended to be asleep but Homer wouldn’t give up. They had come to South America in search of a better life and they could do it. He didn’t believe in God but this was an urgent matter.
“I will be a millionaire,” he said.
Miguel appeared at the door, accompanied by a fat priest. Three strands of dark hair adorned his head and his ears stuck out of more tufts of hair, as mother opened her eyes.
“Father Ricardo,” she said. “I’m sick.”
The priest sat by her side, hands searching for hers as thunder roared outside and drops of rain battered the window. After crossing himself, he waited for the storm to leave them in peace.
“In the name of the father, of the son and of the holy spirit,” father Ricardo said, sprinkling holy water on her face.
After anointing her forehead, he wished for her soul to be accepted in the kingdom of God, because of Jesus Christ in heaven.
“She’s not dying,” Homer said.
He threw the container on to the floor, where it shattered in many pieces all over the carpet. Maria cleaned some of the glass with a brush she had in a corner.
“She is alive,” Homer said.
The world remained in the grip of the storm, as the wind battered the tree and Father Ricardo prayed for the shadows covering everything.
“Make it stop, father,” Maria said.
Father Ricardo raised his arms to the ceiling, a strand of hair falling on his face. The priest regained his composure after blowing his nose.
“Uncle Hugh sent us a cheque to go to New York,” Homer said.
After adjusting his glasses, Father Ricardo ran his eyes through the letter, stopping in a few places he must have found interesting.
“New York is an evil place,” he said.
He talked of a city full of loose women looking for young boys like Homer. Evil awaited in every corner ready to take him to hell.
“We need money, father,” Homer said.
Father Ricardo noticed the bags Miguel had left by the door that morning, as Maria told him about the coca.
“It’s medicinal,” she said.
“Is it?”
“The Indians have taken it for centuries,” she said.
Father Ricardo crossed himself, on looking at her big teats, showing through her blouse.
“I haven’t seen you in the church on Sundays,” he said.
“I’m busy, father.”
People shouldn’t turn their backs on Jesus Christ for economic reasons. Parents had to teach their children their religious duties even if they were young or their souls might go to hell.
“If we don’t go to New York, I’ll sell merchandise in the slums” Homer said.
The priest hated Homer’s ideas. That young man would cause the end of the world one day.
“When will you do it?” he asked.
“I don’t know, father.”
Father Ricardo took another bottle of holy water out of his bag and sprinkled it around the room, vanquishing all the demons forever.
“I’ll get the doctor,” Homer said.
Father Ricardo didn’t need a doctor when he could treat mother with his faith. He gave her the last rites against Homer’s wishes, the storm raging outside.


New business
After a night full of pain, mother passed away in the morning. Father Ricardo had done what he could with his prayers and the bible.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Homer saw the room disappearing amidst his soul. His mother looked pale in the bed, her dark hair surrounding her head like a halo. She had to be sleeping after the priest had given her the last rites for the kingdom of heaven as Maria showed him her teats.
“You must be strong,” she said.
She muttered a prayer to God, while Homer had her milk full of vitamins for a healthy soul. Miguel organised the funeral amidst the bags of coca leaves spread throughout the shop, the sound of a people coming in the room disturbing Homer’s concentration. A woman held a handkerchief to her nose.
“I saw her alive a few days ago,” she said.
She talked about his mother’s qualities. She had been a saint, while looking after her family in a shop filled with merchandise, when Uncle Hugh had brought toys for the child from the debris of time.
The biggest treat in Homer's infancy had been their outings to the fair to see the bearded woman, the fattest man and the child that fit in a tiny box. He had tried doing that with the boxes in the cellar, scratching his legs and making his mother angry.
“The boy in the fair did it, mum,” he had said.
Those sunny days had taught him so many things. He had learned how to annoy the monkey man by throwing paper balls at his cage while shooting the camel woman with his water pistol.
“I’ll miss your mother,” the woman by his side interrupted his reverie.
“She was an angel,” Homer said.
The woman hugged him as Homer tried to keep his balance on the floor, the medication he had taken for the nerves taking away the meaning of his soul.
“We’ll take her to the cemetery,” someone said.
Homer wondered why he had that sense of déjà vous, as the undertaker surrounded the coffin, and the clock in the wall ticked towards the end. Then Maria appeared with a glass of water.
“You must have another tablet,” she said. “It will help you relax.”
“I want your teats,” he said.
“Not now.”
He took the tablets with some water Maria had brought him in the cup. His mother didn’t deserve to be locked away for eternity.
“Stop it,” he said.
“You might need an aguardiente,” someone else said.
He drank the liquid they offered him in a tumbler, even if he had a tablet a few minutes before. As Maria led him outside, the undertaker put mother’s coffin in a black car from hell.
“You must sit next to the driver,” she said.
Maria helped him to sit, before climbing by his side. Father had to be waiting amidst the flowers and the rain in the cemetery they had visited the day before, as Homer remembered her paying for a life insurance every month. It’s for my funeral, she had said, the moving car bringing him back to reality but he had to remember something. His parent’s death had been preordained from across the abyss of time.
“Are you all right?” Maria asked.
“I want you,” he said.
His life had been filled with impossibilities from the moment his uncle had visited them and Jose had appeared in his life. On arriving at the cemetery, Homer saw the mourners gathering by the chapel of rest, drops of rain falling on the earth. Father Ricardo appeared by their side.
“The world will miss her,” he said.
“I know,” Homer said.
His mother had been a saint, following the right path during her life.
“God has her now,” the priest said, getting ready to deliver his message of love amidst the rain.
“Dear people,” he said. “We have lost an angel of mercy on this earth.”
Homer found some coca leaves in his pockets in order to forget his pain. After sprinkling holy water over the coffin, Father Ricardo muttered a few prayers to our lord, before shutting mother’s eyes forever.
“Ashes to ashes,” he said.
“Amen,” everyone said.
Homer remembered the day he had flown up to the tree of life with its branches searching for the sky. Then drops of rain fell around him, thunder exploding in his world.
“The Devil wants to interrupt this service,” Father Ricardo said.
He talked of the work mother had started in this world, helping poor souls go to the kingdom of heaven.
“She gave me a sum of money every week for helping the poor,” he said.
Homer heard all the things his mother had done, tears of frustration wetting his eyes.
“This woman devoted most of her existence to charity,” the priest said.
Thinking of all the money his mother had spent in the poor, Homer chewed some more coca leaves.
“She will be remembered by the meek,” Father Ricardo said.
A long line of children appeared along the path, before throwing roses on the grave.
“She gave them everything they needed,” father Ricardo said.
Homer cried on Maria’s chest for all the times he had wanted a toy or nice clothes while his mother gave everything to charity. Father Ricardo kept on talking of mother’s good work in the kingdom of God.
“She left a life insurance for a widow’s charity,” he said.
A few women dressed in black praised his mother’s work on this earth.
“She was a good woman,” Maria said.
“We didn’t have any money,” Homer said.
“God will thank her,” she said.
“I hope so.”
The crowd dispersed under the rain and before something else happened.
“Let’s go,” Maria said.
Homer had to start anew. His shop would be the best in town, even if mother had given her money to charity.
“I’ll call my shop, El Baratillo,” he said.
“El Baratillo?”
Homer nodded. “Everything will be cheaper than anywhere else.”
“She was a good woman.”
“I know.”
He led her to the darkest part of the cemetery, where Jose’s face appeared amongst the graves and he touched her body.
“You shouldn’t trick me like that,” she said.
Homer remembered that world he had just glimpsed amidst the clouds of time, as he kissed her, tasting the coffee she had that morning.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” he asked.
Maria frowned. “You want to frighten me.”
He touched her teats, before rolling with her through the graves.
“The service has finished,” father Ricardo said.
Homer saw him by the mausoleum on his right, while Maria escaped his grasp and thunder echoed around them.
“You’ll never go to New York,” the priest said.
The visitor
El Baratillo became an institution: a neck tie that cost ten pesos, Homer sold for eight pesos and the same with everything else. One day something happened that changed his life. It started in a simple way like all the great things in the world, when an Indian with high cheek bones, a long black skirt and his hair in a pony tail had come in the shop. He waited by the dirty walls while Homer sold to the customers. Miguel had gone to sort out a consignment of coca leaves and Maria had stayed at home, helping her mother to tidy the house.
Homer thought the man had gone to sleep in a corner as he summoned enough courage to get closer, his eyes flickering in the shadows.
“Can I help you?” Homer asked.
Then the man showed him a packet. It could be a bomb or something else.
“I want you to go,” Homer said.
The Indian remained by the counter, his hands fiddling with the bag he held with care. The policemen patrolling the market during the day could get rid of him but something in the man’s face made him wait.
“I’ll call the police,” Homer said.
As the Indian opened the box, Homer crouched by the boxes of coca, expecting the man to burst in flames as a small head surrounded by black hair, its eyes shut and its lips sewn appeared out of the bag. Memories of all the people in the cages came back to Homer’s mind on looking at the head.
“Is it real?” he asked.
The Indian checked the bags of coca by his feet, while muttering to himself.
“Mmm,” the man said.
Homer understood why the Indian had brought the head to his shop: the fame of his coca leaves must have spread amongst the inhabitants of the jungle, while the little man sniffed the contents of the bags with pleasure.
“Do you want it?” Homer asked.
“Mmmm,” the man said.
“You have to bring me more heads.”
The Indian chewed coca leaves, as Homer thought he had discovered something never imagined. Balboa must have felt like that, on setting eyes on the Pacific Ocean or Columbus when he shouted “Land” for the first time.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked.
The Indian didn’t pay any attention to him, coca leaves had to be his favourite thing. Homer marvelled at the similarity between the man and the small head while boiling some water in the stove. Children should play with shrunken men instead of artificial toys, he thought.
“No heads,” Homer said pointing at the bags. “No coca.”
On looking in a wardrobe, he found a map of the country his father had kept amidst some papers. Opening it on the floor, the capital and big cities of the cordillera appeared next to the jungle.
“This is Florencia,” he said. “Where do you live?”
The Indian looked at the map, while Homer talked of piranhas and giant snakes eating men alive.
“This is the Guaviare River,” he said.
“River,” the Indian said.
Then the man pointed at a place in the jungle, lost amidst the trees and other things.
“That must be your home.” Homer said.
He jumped around the boxes littering the floor, interrupting the man’s scrutiny of the map.
“Do you go there by horse?” he asked.
He galloped around the room, jumping around the furniture while the man looked on.
"I want to know where you live," Homer said.
Indifferent to the question, the Indian sniffed the coca leaves inside the boxes. Homer showed him a few pictures he had found in a book, where the women washed their clothes by a river and a puma hid behind some trees.
“Jungle,” the Indian said.
Homer nodded. “You understand me.”
The Indian got ready to go back home, wherever that was.
“Wait a minute,” Homer said.
The Indian moved along the corridor, cradling one of the boxes in his hands.
“Remember to bring me more heads,” Homer said.
The Indian put the box in his satchel, before opening the door to the outside world. Homer watched the little man disappearing around the corner as the head waited on the table. On approaching his trophy, he noticed the black hair surrounding the small face where the lips had been sewn together. Someone must have died for the head to be in his possession or it might be a forgery. Then Maria appeared at the door.
“Something is on the floor,” she said.
The head must have fallen amidst the boxes, as she got ready to attack the thing with the mop.
“It’s a head,” he said.
“It’s horrible,” she said.
“I like it.”
“You are weird.”
“I know.”
Maria washed the plates piling in the sink without looking at the head but Homer didn’t know why she cared. It seemed like a toy head with its hard skin and shut eyes.
“An Indian brought it to me,” he said.
“He must hate you,” she said.
“I don’t think so.”
She kept on washing the plates, nothing else mattering to her soul even if Homer held the head by the hair.
“Would you come with me to the jungle?” he asked.
She dropped the saucepan she had been washing, the noise echoing around the room. Perhaps he wanted to marry her.
“I will have to ask father.”
Homer thought of them making love amidst the trees, shuddering with desire. This girl would kill him one day with her charms.
“The Indian lives by the Guaviare River,” he said.
“Did he tell you that?”
“He can’t talk.”
Homer showed her the part of the jungle where the Indian might live while feeling her teats.
“The jungle is dangerous,” she said.
“He wants coca leaves,” he said.
The end of the world happened when she smacked his face, leaving a red mark on his cheeks.


Jaramillo
Homer imagined the money he might make with the heads, while the noises of the world intruded in this reality, the tree of life swayed in the breeze and the wind caressed his face.
He must have dozed for a few moments, because the sun had gone behind the clouds when he opened his eyes. At first the red bricks looked grubby but then a little boy with dirty clothes and picking his nose stood against the wall. After moving along the path the apparition stopped by the tree.
“I must be dreaming,” Homer muttered, the child had to be a ghost invented by his mind.
The child stopped by his side, his nose a mess by now.
“Where is your mother?” he asked.
Homer understood the stranger’s identity like many other things in his life, waiting to be solved.
“She’s gone,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
Looking at the kitchen window, Homer noticed the bottles he had left there a few days before and the cloth Maria used to wipe the surfaces. His mother had gone to the kingdom of the sky, while a mirage like Jose had remained in the confines of the garden. Homer had grown into a tall man with green eyes and greasy hair but the child looked the same.
“I left early yesterday,” he said.
“That was a long time ago.”
“Time doesn’t exist,” Jose said.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll understand one day.”
Jose caressed the tree full of brown patches. As Homer barked, Jose imitated him, the nature of time and life itself dissolving into nothing.
“Where is your uncle?” he asked.
“He’s a journalist in New York.”
“Good for him.”
Memories of that day flooded back to Homer’s mind, as he looked at a toy car lost amidst the wild flowers but the tricycle his uncle had given him lived with the spiders in the shed.
“Can you guess the future?” Homer asked.
“It’s all around you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Two and two are seven.”
The sounds of the garden interrupted his words. At first Jose talked of life, but as Homer touched his nose, the child did the same thing.
“You guess my thoughts,” Homer said.
“Shut your eyes,” Jose said.
Homer wanted to go to sleep, even though a breeze made him shiver. On opening his eyes, he saw Maria with a tall man.
“He wanted to see you,” she said.
“Good afternoon,” the man said. “I’m Jaramillo.”
He looked smart, while keeping away from the wall and the tree branches full of bird muck.
“I hope I haven’t disturbed you,” he said.
Jaramillo avoided the dirty patches in the garden, brushing a few cobwebs sticking to his shirt.
“I’m a friend of your Uncle Hugh,” he said.
“He’s in New York.”
“I met him there.”
After rummaging in his bag, he showed Homer pictures of the shrunken head along some articles about the Amazonian jungle he must have found in a magazine.
“A shop wants more heads,” he said.
Images of all the money went through Homer’s mind, as he took the journalist back to a kitchen full of dust. Homer muttered a few apologies.
“When will you go to the jungle?” Jaramillo asked
“I have to wait for the Indian.”
Homer looked for the mark the Indian had made with a pencil in the middle of the map he kept in the wardrobe.
“He lives by the Guaviare River,” he said.
“Your heads must be there,” Jaramillo said.
“I hope so.”
“It’s incredible.”
Jaramillo must have touched something dirty while writing the conversation in his notebook, because he left greasy spots in the paper.
“I’ll take civilization to the jungle,” Homer said.
“Well done.”
After writing Homer’s statements for future reference, Jaramillo spent a few moments cleaning his clothes.
“You must come to my office,” he said.
Homer nodded. “It’s a good idea.”
Jaramillo got ready to go back to his tidy house at the other end of the town.
“Call me if the Indian comes back,” he said.
“I’ll do that.”
On reaching the shop, where Miguel served one of the customers, he turned back for the last time.
“I’ll be in contact,” he said, before disappearing amidst the merchandise stored by the door.
Homer hoped he had found the street amidst all the mess.


The trip
The Indian appeared in the shop a few weeks later, where resembled one of those statues of San Agustin in the Huila province while standing amidst the coca boxes.
“He’s from the jungle,” Homer told one of his customers.
She smiled. “Don’t worry, Mr. Homer.”
“I have a few nice things,” he said.
Homer put some boxes on the floor, before holding a dress with golden buttons around the waist. It would look beautiful on the woman’s slender body with big teats.
“It came from Paris yesterday,” he said. “I have my contacts there.”
Anything good in Paris had to look good in Homer’s shop. She looked at her reflection in the mirror by the counter, while holding it against her body.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
He found some more clothes in different colours and sizes, their buttons shining under the light of the lamp.
“This red blouse suits you,” he said.
She turned it around, inspecting the front and back, her eyebrows rising in admiration, but frowned on looking at the price.
“I’ll give you eighty pesos for this one,” she said.
He shrugged. “I’d be losing money.”
“Eighty pesos,” she said.
“One hundred is my last offer.”
“You will lose a customer, Mr. Homer.”
Everything seemed to stop, as she moved along the shop where his universe stopped amidst the fires of hell.
“You can have it for ninety pesos,” Homer said.
“Eighty pesos.”
He shrugged. “Ninety.”
A satisfied customer might bring more business, Homer thought, as her hands ran through the fabric, long nails caressing the material. On looking in her handbag, a few coins fell on the counter, disturbing the peace of the morning. Then she handed him crisp notes she had must have withdrawn from the bank that morning, with the water mark and the signature of the vice-president of the country.
“You’ll look like a princess,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Homer.”
“And it’s a good price.”
“I hope so.”
She looked at the other dresses in the counter, while Homer wrote a receipt. He hoped she would buy something else to go with the blouse.
“I’ll have nice clothes next week,” he said.
“Fine, Mr. Homer.”
Waves of cheap perfume wafted in the air, as she walked towards the door before disappearing in the street. He might invite her to have a cup of tea the next time, but he had to go back to his customer by the counter.
“Here is your bag of coca,” he put one of the boxes by his side. .
“Ummm,” the Indian said.
“I want my payment.”
“Nnn,” the man said.
“I’ll take the coca away then.”
The man didn’t react. On opening his drawer, Homer found his gun but then he remembered the promise the Indian had made.
“Are we going to the jungle?” Homer asked.
The Indian examined the box while muttering something, as Miguel appeared at the door.
“I don’t like him, Mr. Homer,” he said.
“He’s harmless.”
“I don’t think so.”
Homer put a few tins of food in his bag, the Indian’s eyes following his actions.
“Where are you going?” Miguel asked.
“I’ll come back in a few days,” Homer said.
“Mr. Homer..”
“I’ll be OK.”
He made sure the cash machine worked properly, before looking at the clothes in the corner.
“You must write a receipt every time someone buys something,” he said.
Miguel nodded. “I know that.”
After having a last look at his merchandise, Homer put a few more things in his bag where he had a mosquito lotion and a good watch to tell the time in the jungle. He wanted many more heads.
“I thought the journalist might go with you,” Miguel said.
Homer shook his head. “He’s a nuisance.”
Jaramillo might be useless with his notebooks in the undergrowth while a shadow stood by the tree. On opening the back door, he saw no one in the backyard. It had to be his imagination, triggered by this journey to the unknown.
Homer thought Miguel would keep his customers satisfied while he looked for heads in the jungle. Then Jose appeared by his side but the child could be a fantasy like all the other things in his life.
“Go away,” Homer said.
“I never left you,” Jose said. “You’ll understand one day.”


The savannah
Miguel escorted them with his mop, as the afternoon sun shone in the sky amidst the noise of the market, full of traders selling their products to the public. Father Ricardo appeared along the street, wearing his gown and holding his rosary, a link to his God whenever he went. On seeing them, the priest stopped by their side.
“Good afternoon,” he said.
Homer muttered something but the Indian kept on walking, in a hurry to get to his homeland.
“I don’t like him,” Father Ricardo said.
“He’s harmless, father.”
“Bring him to the church on Sunday then.”
“I’ll do that.”
On looking at the Indian, Father Ricardo talked about God avenging the sinners from hell if they didn’t pray.
“He likes coca,” Homer said.
“That will be his ruin.”
“I’ll see you on Sunday, father.”
Father Ricardo talked of souls facing the fires of hell for not repenting of their sins, waving his rosary in the air. Homer wished the priest left them alone, while muttering excuses on his way to the unknown. Then a pretty girl moved along the pavement, distracting the priest for a few moments when Homer ran away amongst the shop owners offering their wares to the public.
“Buy my silk clothes,” a woman said.
He had better things in his shop and on turning the corner more shopkeepers enticed them with their wares, the Father Ricardo had got lost in the crowd doing their shopping for the weekend. A grey station loomed amidst some bushes growing in the street corner: Espresso Palmira, said in big letters by the door, as the passengers sat on the benches and a girl painted her nails behind the counter. Homer interrupted her concentration by knocking on the table.
“I want two tickets to Villavicencio,” he said.
She checked a notebook, full of names and numbers while blowing her nails.
“It’s four hundred pesos,” she said.
Homer looked at her big breasts under her frock, some of his money falling on the counter. Her teats might relieve some of the pressure of the journey.
“I’m going to the Amazon jungle,” he said.
She shrugged. “That’s good.”
Can I suck your teats behind the door?
“Your friend is waiting,” she said.
“I’ll give you a hundred pesos,” he said.
“Pervert.”
“I know.”
The heads had to be more important than her virginity, he thought, on going back to the Indian sitting by the entrance.
“We’re going to Villavicencio,” he said.
Faced with the man’s silence, Homer wondered how much money his own head might fetch in the shops.
“Are we going the right way?” Homer asked.
“Mmmm,” the Indian said.
A bus left the parking lot at that minute. It had to be their vehicle or the Indian wouldn’t look so lost. Homer rushed along the street whilst holding his case in one hand, his bag in another and the tickets in his mouth. They caught up with the vehicle by the entrance to the market, no one caring about his troubles.
“Can you let us in? Homer knocked on the bus door.
He put a fifty pesos note against the bus window, hoping the man would feel sorry for his soul.
“It will be yours,” Homer said.
On opening the door, the bus driver beckoned them inside the darkness, where the unknown waited.
“It’s not a sin to leave on time,” the driver said.
“I paid you money,” Homer said.
On moving along the aisle, they stepped on the bodies lying in the floor.
“I’ll kill you,” a fat woman said.
Homer shrugged. “I’m sorry, Madam.”
“You’ve broken my leg.”
She gestured somewhere under the people, where her legs had to be but then two empty seats beckoned them at the back of the bus. By the time they arrived at a cage full of chickens and shit a few of the passengers threatened to kill him but God had kept those places empty for a reason.
“I want one hundred pesos,” a voice said under the cage.
“Can you hear me?” the voice said.
A woman with feathers on her face looked at him amidst the chickens, although she didn’t seem to be real.
“Leave me alone,” Homer said.
The apparition pushed him away and the birds cried.
“You can’t sit next to my birds,” she said.
“Bad luck then,” he said.
As the bus drove along the countryside, the wind brought him a rain of feathers and shit while the woman laughed.
“The birds don’t like you,” she said.
“I don’t like them either.”
The Indian sat at the other side of the cage, unaware of his distress or of anything else. After chewing some coca leaves, Homer disappeared amidst his dreams of the jungle, where the heads waited for him. I’m Homer, he had said to a beautiful girl showing him her teats, bronzed by the sun.
“Empanadas,” someone interrupted the orgy.
On opening his eyes, Homer saw a woman lifting a plate full of flies and food, towards the bus window.
“Tamales,” someone else said.
They tempted Homer with their concoctions harbouring zillion of illnesses amidst the dust covering everything.
“I’m not hungry,” he said.
“He eats shit,” the woman under the cage said.
She had to be the biggest fucker in the world. Then Homer noticed the Indian had left his seat. On standing up, he annoyed some of the passengers but he had to find the man luring him on a trip to find a fortune.
“Have you seen my friend?” he asked.
“No,” they answered.
“He wore a long gown,” Homer said.
As he made his way to the front of the vehicle, he got more threats from the passengers.
“Your friend is outside,” the bus driver interrupted.
Homer saw the Indian waiting by some mules on the pavement, the vendors accosting him with their wares. The man seemed calm amongst all the problem of the world but Homer had to get to his side. After finding the bus door, he rushed across the street where the Indian looked amused at his efforts.
“I thought we had to go to Villavicencio,” Homer said.
The Indian climbed on one of the animals, leaving Homer all alone amongst the sellers but he had to climb on a mule to get to the jungle.
“Can’t we take another bus?” he asked.
“You won’t have any more coca,” he said.
“Mmmm,” the Indian said.
“Can’t you talk?”
“Mmmm.”
The mule remained calm amidst Homer’s suffering every time he fell down and the sellers applauded. He had to get on the animal if he wanted the heads.
“Tamales,” someone offered.
Homer smacked his mule for all the times she had left him on the ground, without caring for his soul.
“You must be dumb,” he said.
After putting his leg up, he managed to climb on the animal as the Indian moved along the road.
“Wait for me,” Homer said.


The jungle
The adventure had started, the soil turning into a mass of trees at the edge of the world. The Indian’s village had to be amongst the trees. After galloping for some time, they went past grassy fields and the insects annoyed him to death as big ants roamed the ground. They had to be poisonous like everything else in the land he had seen in his nightmares, but then a river sneaked through the jungle in the way to n the horizon.
“I can’t swim,” Homer said.
“Mmmm.”
The Indian tied his donkey to a few bushes, before kneeling down by the river with a fishing rod in his hands. The man had come well prepared for his journey back to his homeland but then Homer heard the sound of drums, faint in the beginning before getting louder until they echoed everywhere.
“What is that?” Homer asked.
The man muttered something while concentrating in the river where big fish swam under the current, the sound of the water crashing over the boulders drowning that of the drums. Homer waited for a miracle, the river taking him to other lands lost in time where he could get all the heads in the world. Then the rod tightened, a fish hanging at the end of the line bringing him to reality.
“Bravo,” Homer said.
The man smiled. “Mmmmm.”
“You must learn my language,” Homer said.
“Mmm.”
“That is called a fish.”
“Mmmm.”
“Fish,” Homer said.
As the Indian cleaned it with his knife, the scales mixed with the grass where small animals had to take them away to their homes. Then he made a fire with some matches he had in his pockets, the smoke rising to the sky like a signal to the clouds.
“How many heads do you have?” Homer asked.
They could be under the foliage or inside a hole in the ground. The Indian served the food in a few palm leaves he had found somewhere in the jungle, as a sacrifice to the god of hunger.
“I want my heads,” Homer said.
He had come here to find a treasure amidst the trees. Homer ate the fish he had seen alive a few moments before, while thinking of all the money he might make in New York. Then he brought out some aguardiente he had in his bag.
“We must drink to our business,” Homer said.
The man ignored his words, before opening a tent he had in his bag for his trip to the wilderness. Night had come to the jungle, the sun turning into a ball of fire before disappearing behind the trees and the light went away. Feeling exhausted after riding on the mule the whole day, he lay down in the sleeping bag the man had put in the tent.
“We must awake early tomorrow,” Homer said.
The Indian went on clearing the mess they had made on the floor, before attracting some more insects to feast on their bodies. Homer must have gone to sleep, because he had strange dreams of monsters chasing him through the night, the Darkness greeted his senses wherever he looked, as a cricket sang in the darkness and he ran through the fields with no clothes on.
“Help me,” he said.
The wind answered his words. Homer had run throughout his home during his childhood dreams, when his mother had to take him back to his bed. The doctor had given him some tablets to take before going to bed and Father Ricardo had blessed him with holy water but he still wandered about the shop or anywhere else he might be. Homer heard the river rushing through the world of his nightmares, when he rushed through the horrors littering the jungle floor.
A thousand insects illuminated his path along the shores of a strange world, bringing him memories of hell. That food he had eaten before going to sleep had to be drugged or the aguardiente had given him bad dreams.
“I want to go home,” Homer said.
“Do you talk to yourself often?” someone asked.
Homer saw a child coming towards him in the moonlight. It had to be Jose.
“You are here,” Homer said.
“I might be.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have to find her,” Jose said.
Following his pointing finger, Homer saw dark shapes under the moonlight. On moving towards them, he found huts with conical roofs but no one seemed to be around on a night of desolation somewhere in time.
“Where is everyone?” Homer asked.
“They have gone,” Jose said.
“I don’t understand.”
The child disappeared, as Homer found a hammock hanging inside one of the huts. He had to awaken from his dream before the Indian ran away with the heads, the sound of his own breathing disturbing his reality. At first he thought ghosts had come to get him, but then a girl holding a candle in her hands appeared by his side, her teats trembling every time she moved in the gloom.
“Help me,” he said.
The darkness quivered at the sound of his voice, while the candle dissolved in drops of wax. Then the girl did something extraordinary as she kissed his chest while getting inside the hammock but Homer had never had such a wonderful dream.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Mmm,” she said.
“No one talks in the jungle,” he said.
He felt her pubic hair darker than the night, as the drums drowned his senses and she muttered something in his ears. He pushed into her vagina until his soul dissolved in the best orgasm of his life, when the darkness acquired a certain beauty.
“Thank you,” Homer said.
“Mmmm,” she said.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Kam,” she said.
“You understand me.”
“Kam,” she said.
Homer heard her muttering more things in her language.
“I have waited for you all my life,” he said.
“Kam,” she said.
“I know.”
He promised her eternal love in the kingdom of the shadows but she had to adore an idol baked in a town of ghosts. She sucked his cock, running her tongue along his balls until his sperm flowed along her breasts. Homer didn’t want to awaken from the dream she had brought him, lost in a world of happiness where nothing mattered as the horses had their grass by the river and the insects feasted in his flesh. I have to be in the tent, he said in his dreams but Kam moved besides his body. Then a candle brought light to the shadows.
“Welcome to our world, Mr Homer,” a voice said.
Homer saw the Indian standing before them.
“You speak my language,” he said.
“The Gods led you to us.”
“What Gods?”
“The ones who live in heaven,” the Indian said.
“Why don’t you let me go?” Homer asked.
“You are sick.”
“I’m not.”
“You must prove it,” the Indian said.
Homer fell back inside the blankets, where the girl waited for his caresses.
“You must take our potions,” the Indian said.
The girl sucked Homer’s cock, interrupting the conversation.
“She cares about you, Mr. Homer.”
“Does she?”
She worked on him until the semen flew through her face once more. Then she lay on his lap, waiting for nature to make his member stronger.
“I want my heads,” Homer said.
The Indian shrugged. “We have enough coca for the moment.”
Homer’s mind hungered for his freedom as the sun waited somewhere in time and the girl caressed his chest, when they made love amidst his dreams...


Escape
Dreaming of his shop on the other side of the jungle, Homer had gone to a land of love in the sky where Kam reigned supreme.
“I love you,” he said in his dreams.
“Mmmm,” he heard her answering somewhere in the night.
He found Kam by his side, her silhouette visible in the twilight world of the hut, as the taste of herbs penetrated his brain and the hammock moved in the empty space. He waited for some time, his eyes studying the darkness while she slept.
Homer had to act before dawn came to the world. After lowering his legs to the floor, his fingers felt the bumps and cracks of the wall but he couldn’t find a door. He went around the place in a circle looking for that opening to the outside world, while thinking what might happen if she found him amidst the shadows. They could sell his head for a few bags of coca in the nearest town, or they would eat his entrails with potatoes and soup. Shutting his eyes, he wished Jose could solve his problems as Kam whispered in the darkness.
“I want to go home,” Homer said.
“Home,” she said.
“You understand me.”
He took her around the hut, getting entangled in the cobwebs adorning the place. Then he felt something running down his chest and tickling his cock. It had to be one of those spiders living amidst the vegetation or Kam made everything better with her hands.
“Where is the door?” he asked.
“Door,” she said.
“I want to find it.”
She pressed something in the wall and a panel lifted up to the sky full of stars, his feet running over the soft grass. He had to find his way home beyond the trees.
“Will you come with me?” he asked.
“Home,” she said.
They moved under the light of the moon, where no one would find them amidst the shadows of the trees where Kam led him along the path, the sound of the drums greeting his senses.
“Thank you,” he said.
He saw her smiling in the twilight, her breasts bouncing under her gown. She could live amidst the coca bags in his shop, boiling her herbs and talking nonsense forever, while her witchcraft helped the insomniacs of the world. On arriving at the shores of a river, they saw an enchanted forest under the full moon. Homer tasted the goodness of the jungle in its molecules of hydrogen and oxygen, the sound of the drums bringing him back to reality.
“We have to hurry,” he said.
“Kam,” she said.
“I know.”
Muttering something else, she followed him along the shore, even if he couldn’t have the heads.
“They’ll be jealous at home,” Homer said.
“Mmmm.”
“Women will hate you, and men will love you.”
“Home,” she said.
“You know,” he said.
On arriving at a clearing, Homer heard footsteps amidst the darkness. He had to keep his head in place.
“I’m frightened,” he said.
“Kam,” she said.
He kissed her lips. “You are beautiful.”
Homer thought the Indians might sell his head to rich entrepreneurs living in New York, while running through a path in the jungle, the branches of the trees getting entangled in their hair. The light of early dawn filled their world with long shadows and the sun struggled to appear behind the clouds.
“No,” Kam said.
“What is it?”
On gesturing at the sun, she ran along the field, her hair flying in the wind like a mantle.
“Kam,” Homer said.
He followed her through the foliage, scratching his legs with the thorns in his way.
“Kam,” he said. “Don’t leave me alone.”
The drums went on but Kam stayed away. Homer examined a few rags she had left on the floor, her scent assaulting his senses. Wandering through the shores of the river, he found the mules munching their grass by the tents. He had to act fast and before the Indians caught him as he galloped along the path he had followed a few days before, the sound of drums echoing around him. After been riding along the plain for some time, he saw a few houses by the road instead of huts. People appeared out of the doors to welcome the stranger on a mule.
“It isn’t palm Sunday yet,” they said.
“I escaped from the Indians,” he told a policeman. “They wanted to shrink my head.”
“The sun has made you crazy,” the man said.
“It’s true,” Homer said.
The policeman led him to the health centre, where one of the nurses took his pulse, while the patients moved away from him.
“He must be crazy,” they said.
“Where can I take the bus to the nearest city?” Homer asked.
“It leaves tomorrow morning,” she said. “You won’t need the mules anymore.”
Homer kept Kam’s possessions in his bag, a reminder of the journey to the jungle. He had to forget about the heads for the moment.


The sea
Miguel and Maria welcomed Homer back in the shop, although he didn’t get the hero’s welcome he expected. Lucky to be alive, he had to forget about Kam and his adventure in the jungle. That last aguardiente he had by the fire, must have brought his night terrors of hammocks and sex amidst the trees. Homer put the rugs he had found in his safe, a reminder of his adventure in the jungle where Kam had loved him.
Foreign businessman defies the Indians, Homer read in the papers the next day. They didn’t know anything about the jungle where he had nearly died, as he had to think of his next business. On finding his phone under some papers, a woman answered after he had asked the operator for a number.
“This is the library,” she said.
“I want to help the local economy,” he said.
“I don’t understand.”
“This is Mr. Homer.”
He heard her voice again, after a pause, when he thought she had hung up.
“I’ll call you when we arrange something,” she said.
He could talk about money any time he wanted. It had to be his fame as a rich foreigner or his adventure with the Indians in the jungle but then he decided to visit the library even though his mother had warned him against people who read books. They had to be mad.
The sun shone in the sky as he left the shop, searching for his future. After moving through the market for some time, he arrived at a park, where the pigeons chased each other by a fountain and an ugly building loomed in front of him. Municipal library, Homer read in big letters as a young woman stamped a pile of papers in the hall. Homer went inside the building while the clock marked the time and the girl looked at him.
“I want to borrow some books,” Homer said.
“You must fill the library card first,” she said.
She waited for him to write his details in a piece of paper, but Homer had not learned how to write even if he could read.
“I didn’t bring my glasses,” he said. “Could you do it for me?”
She wrote his name and address after asking him some more questions, irrelevant to the sea or whatever else he wanted to know.
“You have the name of a Greek hero,” she said.
“Do you think so?”
“He fell in love with Helen during the Trojan War.”
Homer had never heard of his name sake doing exciting things in the name of love. That wasn’t quite like him. He had to conquer the world without any women by his side, but then she gestured to the back of the library.
“His books are by the window.”
Following her pointing finger, Homer crashed with a child reading some comics, as everyone looked at him.
“Quiet,” they said.
Homer had arrived at the back of the library, where mothers looked at some of the books with their children. The picture of a man with crazy eyes and a big nose looked back at him from a book on a table. The Iliad, he read in big red letters in the book cover. As he sat at the table, he disturbed some of the chairs, the noise echoing through the place. Then he saw a poem written throughout many pages- the other Homer must have been a busy man.
The Gods of Olympus had helped him in a war against someone he couldn’t pronounce, and everything for love. As Homer tried to understand all about Zeus, Hector, and King Hermes doing their dealings with the Trojans, he saw a book with big boats. It had to be a message from Olympus, where the other Homer resided for eternity. He moved towards the librarian with the books.
“I want to take them home,” he said.
Se stamped the first one before looking at the picture in the cover.
“It’s uncanny,” she said.
“Can I rape you tonight?” he asked.
“I have a boyfriend,” she said.
An orchestra played in the park and the tramps danced with each other when Homer made his way home.
“I’m Homer the Greek,” he muttered to himself.
As the band played the national hymn, Homer barked. The Trojan War made him fight for his money, when he would do anything to earn a few pesos.
“Hurrah to the president,” a woman said.
“To the president,” some other people said.
Homer remembered a sad looking man who never did anything about the economy as Father Ricardo appeared by his side. The priest looked fat, thanks to the love of God and the women behind the confessionary.
“You should have left the Indians alone,” he said.
Homer shrugged. “They had nice teats.”
“We’ll discuss that another day,” father Ricardo said. “Will you come to mass tonight?”
“I’m busy, father.”
Shaking his head, Father Ricardo moved down the street, where the butcher cut his meat and the grocer put some apples in the counter. Everybody worked to feed their families, even if some of them didn’t go to mass. Homer found Miguel tidying the boxes of coca in the shop, ready to sell to the customers before the end of humankind.


The library
“I’m giving a lecture about the sea in the library,” Homer said when Jaramillo answered the phone.
“The Indians didn’t bring you much money,” Jaramillo said.
“I’ll buy boats this time.”
“Good idea,” Jaramillo said.
“Thank you.”
Homer had to get lots of money before the end of time, even if he had to conquer the planet.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in front of a mirror by the door. “I want to help the world.”
Homer had to buy a ship and a few trucks to bring his merchandise back from the port after his lecture in the library.
“Two and two are seven,” he muttered to himself.
He wanted recognition for his struggles to help the country in times of need, even if that sentence meant nothing as many things didn’t go anywhere.
“I love myself,” Homer said.
On turning the pages of the book, he saw boats full of sailors ready to conquer the planet, as the memory of that voyage with his parents came back to his mind. The telephone ringing disturbed his reverie.
“We have booked a room for you tonight, Mr. Homer,” a woman said.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You must be at the library at seven thirty pm.”
Homer felt euphoric. Everything had gone according to his plans, where he had to convince the audience to part with their money.
“I have an idea to help the world,” he said to himself in the kitchen.
He found Miguel serving the customers in the shop, unaware of his intentions towards the world.
“I’m leaving you in charge of the shop,” Homer said.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to buy some trucks.”
“The jungle wasn’t a good idea,” Miguel said.
“It will be fine this time.”
On moving down the road, Homer thought of his role in the country. His boats would help the economy by giving jobs to the local people, if everything went
“Mr. Homer,” a man interrupted his thoughts. “Do you have any coca in the shop?”
“It’s the best in the country,” Homer said.
“I’ll get it later.”
Homer had arrived at the park where the photographers waited amidst their equipment.
“Are you buying any boats?” they asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” Homer said.
As he entered the building, the young girl lifted her eyebrows at the sight of the green eyed foreigner with the best ideas.
“Mr. Homer,” she said.
He silenced her while feeling her vulva under the fine pants her mama had given her for Christmas and forgetting his talk about the sea.
“They are waiting,” she said.
“I want you.”
“It isn’t right, Mr. Homer.”
“Nobody is watching,” he said.
As she took him along the corridor where the sun shone on the pictures in the wall, he thought of his words while the people cheered inside a room. It had to be Armageddon like the legends had predicted since the beginning of time
“Will someone bring him a glass of water?” the girl asked.
Homer sipped a bit of aguardiente Jaramillo offered him, before holding the microphone in his hands.
“This country has large coasts filled with treasures,” he said. “I love the sea.”
People applauded when he promised to have the best ships in the world. They had to support the young entrepreneur leading the country into the future.
“I’ll give employment to local people, he said.”
“That sounds fair,” they said.
“We must help our businessman,” the librarian said.
People donated lots of money for his cause, as Homer accepted it with tears in his eyes. He had to be a genius.
“I love the sea,” he said.
“Hurrah to Homer,” they said.
They opened a bottle of champagne to toast their hero.
“You can help the economy now,” they said.
Homer drank some aguardiente mixed with the champagne, whilst the world faded away in a symphony of colours. Kam and the Indian town appeared out of nowhere, the hammock moving in the empty space forever. The librarian wiped his forehead with a wet cloth when he came back to reality.
“You fainted, Mr. Homer,” she said.
“It must be the excitement,” he said.
He drank some of the water she offered him with delicate hands, before wiping his face with a handkerchief. He had to conquer the world under her pants.
“Come to see me tonight,” he said.
Thunder interrupted his words, as lightning exploded outside and rain fell over the city.


The ships
The papers spoke of the foreign businessman travelling in the back of his truck to the port. Homer slept between a sack of potatoes and another one of plantains, as the flies annoyed him but he had a fare paying passenger next to the driver. Having bought the truck after his talk in the library, he hoped it might have some merchandise on its return to the city.
The cries of the seagulls brought him back to reality, as the town filed beyond the boxes and the truck stopped by a garage.
“Hello, Mr. Homer,” the drivers greeted.
“I want to go to the harbour,” he said.
“It’s at the end of the road,” they said.
Homer jumped down on the floor, stretching his legs before heading for the entrance where a few dogs mated with each other. He wanted his boats, even though it might be a long road under the sunshine.
“I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” he said.
“It’s fine,” they said.
Homer started his trek to the docks, as the breeze caressed his face and the market appeared with the stalls full of fish some of the sellers had caught from the sea that morning.
“Buy my cocadas,” a woman said.
He felt sick on looking at the sweet concoctions she must have made in her house earlier. They had lots of sugar, bought in the local market with the money she earned from her job.
“I’m not hungry,” he said.
The woman looked at him with sarcasm. Then she pulled her boobs out of her blouse while talking nonsense.
“My children have not eaten today,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“That’s not enough.”
As her pubic hair danced in the darkness of her body, she open her labia and he saw her pink flesh inviting him to sin.
“Go away,” he said.
“You’ve raped me,” she said.
“Crazy woman.”
Homer expected someone to blame him for her misconduct in the middle of the street but the seagulls went on their way.
“You’ll be sorry,” she said.
“I won’t.”
Homer left her, before she had any more ideas under the rays of the sun and moved by the beach, admiring a few boats swaying in the water. Boats for sale, he read in a white cardboard with red letters.
“Can I help you?” a voice interrupted his reverie.
A man with an earring in his left ear stood by his side. Homer must have met him in another world where everyone had to be ugly.
“Are you selling them?” Homer asked.
He nodded. “I need the money.”
The boats seemed all right, even if they needed a coat of paint. Miguel or Jaramillo must have planned the whole thing in order to help with his business.
“I’ll give you one thousand five hundred pesos for all of them,” Homer said.
“No way,” the man said.
“Two thousand pesos.”
“No.”
Homer shrugged. “I’ll find something else then.”
The man followed him along the pier, where the seagulls flew overhead trying to find their food in the sea while a few of them moved down the beach. Homer kicked the stones in his way, feeling the breeze in his face, a few voices interrupting the calm.
“We want aguardiente,” a few men sang outside a bar.
He liked the music, full of the rhythm of the sea in a cool afternoon as the barmaid showed him her thighs, tanned by the sun. The men interrupted his reverie by laughing aloud.
“Hi Cesar,” one of them said. “When does the world end?”
Homer noticed the little man standing by his side, a little dog guarding his rear against any enemies. Cesar did a rude gesture with his fingers, before disappearing down the path.
“Is he your friend?” they asked.
Homer shook his head. “He sells boats.”
“He’s a liar.”
The men debated whether Cesar owned any boats and if they could sail the sea, as Homer felt that anguish again.
“Don’t trust Cesar,” they said.
The aguardiente burnt his throat while the girl with the big teats flirted with him, even though she wanted to populate the earth with his babies.
“What’s your name?” Homer asked.
“Maria,” she said.
He had met a few Marias in his life, but none of them had cared about him. She came to his side, where she caressed his chest for a few moments.
“You look strong,” she said.
“I can prove it to you.”
Homer kissed her lips, tasting of gin, while she lowered her hands along his chest tickling his stomach and playing with his pubic hair. Leading her away from the door, he let her touch his balls inside his pants, his semen filling the pores in her fingers. She didn’t charge for the extra service she had provided for his health as he got ready to go.
“I’ll come back later,” he said.
Homer didn’t say whether it would be on the same day or sometime in the future as she collected the glasses from the other customers.
“God will punish you,” she said.
“You are funny,” Homer said.
“Wait for us,” the sailors said.


Cesar
Homer had to find the man selling his boats for a few thousand pesos, the best bargain in the world. The clouds loomed over the water, as the seagulls flew overhead and the waves crashed against the vessels he wanted to buy with the money from the library. It was a beautiful view, where the sky met the future forever bright in Homer’s mind. Cesar moved along the dock, followed by the dog.
“I’ll give one thousand pesos for your boats,” Homer said.
The man smiled, turning to look at him.
“They’re the best ships in the world,” he said.
“It’s my last offer.”
Homer counted the pesos he had collected in the library, a small price for someone who loved the sea, as Simon Bolivar’s face smiled at him from the bills and the sailors inspected the boats.
“They must be faulty,” they said.
“Shut up,” Cesar said.
He found a tray with some glasses inside one of the cupboards, before opening a bottle of aguardiente stored in the shadows.
“You can’t trust the sun but you’ll believe the sea,” Cesar said.
“Why?” Homer asked.
“I just know.”
“He doesn’t,” the sailors said.
They opened another bottle of aguardiente, the smell of alcohol filling Homer’s senses. He had to organise his life before losing a grip on the world.
“I’ll work for you,” Cesar said,
“He’ll drown us.”
“Bastards.”
They fought with each other, while brooms and mops fell on the floor, as the sea roared forever.
“You’ll be the captain,” Homer said.
Cesar smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Homer.”
“He’s crazy,” the sailors said.
“Shut up,” Cesar said.
Homer opened another bottle of aguardiente while thinking of his plans.
“You’ll go to the Caribbean Islands,” he said.
“That’s a nice place,” Cesar said.
“He’ll kill us all,” the sailors said.
On remembering the other Homer’s book, Homer wanted to honour his namesake with his boats.
“I’m calling them Athena, Esparta and The Thermopiles,” he said.
Cesar nodded. “They remind me of Salvacion.”
“Why?” Homer asked.
“We had a horse called Athena.”
Homer thought Cesar was a man full of surprises, even if he annoyed everyone most of the time.
“I was born in Salvacion,” Cesar said.
“It must be a beautiful place.”
“The president is a football fan,” Cesar said.
“That is fantastic.”
“Hurrah to Salvacion.”
Cesar saluted an invisible flag, while Homer longed to do business with Salvacion in the future. Then Cesar turned serious, his eyes getting darker.
“It could happen at any time, Mr. Homer.”
“What is it?” Homer asked.
“Armageddon,” Cesar said. “The world must be ready.”
Homer heard about the sun exploding in a billion atoms at the end of the world.
“I read it in the bible,” Cesar said.
“It’s interesting.”
Homer listened to the horrors of the future when mankind would awaken to hell, as radio and television stations would explain the scriptures to the masses.
“That’s incredible,” Homer said.
“Hurrah to Salvacion,” Cesar said.
Salvacion couldn’t save them from Armageddon.


Homer is ill
After coming back from the port, Homer decided to save some money. Miguel helped in the shop but Homer did his own cleaning, cooking and guarded the premises as a dog. On spending most of his time chewing coca leaves, he saw the squirrels gathering nuts for their families in the fields. Homer could sell the trees, the flowers and the grass to rich entrepreneurs interested in nature, as Miguel appeared by his side.
“You haven’t eaten anything for a few days,” he said.
“Food cost money,” Homer said.
“You have lots of food in your shop.”
Homer could open a tin of beans and no one would know but he needed his money. Be tough, his mother’s voice shouted through the abyss of time.
“Why don’t you come with me to the doctor’s surgery?” Miguel asked.
“I’m not ill.”
“You must be healthy to get rich, Mr. Homer.”
Homer didn’t want to pay for any drugs the doctor prescribed for him, but then he saw his thin arms in the mirror. He used to be plump when having mother’s food an eternity ago.
“I do whatever I want,” he said.
“You can’t enjoy your money in the cemetery, Mr. Homer.”
Homer had to sort out his life before Armageddon came to the world.
“The doctor is free,” Miguel said. “He treats poor people for nothing.”
Homer thought about his dilemma, while taking his own pulse and thinking of his money.
“I can cure myself,” he said.
He had to conquer the world, like his mother had said before leaving her money to the charities.
“Let’s go to the doctor,” Miguel said.
“You worry too much,”
After shutting the shop, Miguel led him through the streets full of shoppers looking for a bargain, when his customers wanted to buy his merchandise at good prices.
They went past a small park, where the pigeons chased each other around the fountain and the unemployed plotted the best way to have some money.
“Mr. Homer,” someone said. “We want your boats.”
Homer hurried along the street before they robbed the few coins he had in his pocket as the crowds swallowed him in their hurry to find a bargain in the shops. Then they turned a corner, leaving the market behind their backs, the rest of the city welcoming them under the sun.
“I’m healthy,” Homer said.
“You look skinny.”
Homer shrugged. “I’m usually thin.”
“You have to eat.”
As they entered a room inside a grey building, they saw other people waiting in the chairs. Homer couldn’t understand all the fuss about his appearance, when a tin of beans cost a few pesos. If he looked after his business, his pesos would multiply in a short time.
“The doctor can see you now,” the girl said.
She led him into a room, where a man sitting behind a desk shook his hands.
“I feel weak,” Homer said.
“When was your last meal?” the doctor asked.
“I don’t remember.”
The doctor took Homer’s temperature and his reflexes, as money was the most important thing in his life, blinding him to everything else in the world.
“You have to eat,” the doctor interrupted his reverie.
Homer shrugged. “Food cost money.”
“You have lots of things in your shop.”
“He’s stubborn,” Miguel said.
Homer crashed with a wardrobe and the books fell on his face, as he tried to leave the room. The doctor and Miguel sat him back in the chair.
“You suffer from anorexia,” the doctor said.
“What is that?”
“You want to starve yourself to death,” the doctor said. “They’ll feed you intravenously in the hospital.”
“I don’t want that.”
The doctor wrote down a diet plan for Homer to follow: he had to eat lots of vegetables, milk and meat, everything available in his shop. Then he gave him vitamin tablets to take with his meals every day.
“You have to eat slowly at first,” he said.
“I’ll cook for him,” Miguel said.
Homer had to eat the food from his shop in order to get stronger, while the doctor held a syringe in his hands.
“This injection will give you strength,” he said.
“No,” Homer said.
Homer felt pain in his arm and the shadows blended with the darkness of the end of time...


No tax
Homer ran with Kam through the jungle of his dreams, before holding her clothes in an empty field. He awoke the next morning to find his room looking different as his boxes felt soft: Miguel must have bought a bed with the money he kept in the cash machine. Feeling angry for his employee’s actions, Homer wanted to sack him without an explanation, as the man had used his money to buy something behind his back. Just then Miguel appeared at the door.
“Is this a bed?” Homer asked.
“I found it in the trash,” Miguel said.
“You’re lying.”
“Ask Maria.”
Homer surveyed his surroundings from his new position. He would have to sell lots of merchandise in order to get his money back, but then his stomach made a few noises.
“It’s the injection the doctor gave you,” Miguel said.
“What injection?”
“It gives you strength.”
Miguel prepared scrambled eggs followed by a large glass of juice, everything found in the shop and a waste of money. Homer ate slowly, savouring every morsel of food he put in his mouth, hoping the man would never do that again.
“Do you want some more eggs?” Miguel asked.
“They cost forty cents,” Homer said.
The thought of recovering the money he had lost during the last few days, kept him sane. As the other employee of El Baratillo, he would ask for a substantial increase in his own wages in order to east better. Homer found his bag before getting ready to go.
“I’m off to the port,” he told Miguel.
“You should rest, Mr. Homer.”
“There is nothing wrong with me,” Homer said.
“The doctor...”
“He made a mistake.”
Homer put a few more things in his bag, feeling better after his breakfast because he had to conquer the world.
“Two and two are seven,” he said to himself.
Then he checked his merchandise, before leaving the shop when Miguel sold to a few customers looking for a bargain. On moving along the streets, he saw father Ricardo trying to convert everyone to the kingdom of heaven while a few old ladies went into the church. God had to thank him for helping the economy amidst the recession.
Homer’s journey to the other side of the city took him through the crowded streets where people looked for a bargain in the shops until he found his trucks by the bus station.
“Mr. Homer,” the drivers said. “You look slim.”
“I’ll tell you for a few hundred pesos.”
“Are you ill?”
“No.”
Miguel must have told everyone about his trip to the doctor, but he was not ill. Homer climbed in the back of his truck getting ready for his journey to the port. Then the driver appeared by his side with a little man on tow.
“Mr. Homer,” he asked. “Would you mind if a dog travelled in the back?”
“He will have to pay,” Homer said.
“It’s fine,” the driver said. “But you must feed him.”
He gave Homer a warm packet, smelling of chicken and other things.
“He eats at this time of the day,” the dog’s owner said.
Homer nodded. “I will feed him later.”
“Thank you, Mr. Homer.”
The truck moved amidst the traffic, as Homer’s stomach gurgled and the animal
looked at him with dark eyes. It had to be those vitamins the doctor had given him to make him hungry. On opening the parcel, Homer saw some beef in a brown sauce, a waste of money if he gave it to the dog. On throwing some of the meat in the air, the dog caught it with a thud.
“It’s mine,” Homer said.
The animal sat in one of the crates of coca, while Homer finished with his lunch. Then he masturbated with his greasy hands, the sperm running through the boxes and ending by his feet. It’s cheaper than doing it with a prostitute, he thought. Why didn’t he marry himself? He would increase his money while paying less tax to the country. Homer’s Industries answered in an unexpected way after a long declaration of love to himself, but the prospect of being hungry made him answer yes. After a long hour of speculation, the city slums filed past the truck and the dog whimpered.
“Shut up,” Homer said. “He’ll buy you more food.”
Homer saw the streets full of people, selling fish and coconuts for the hot weather, as the driver stopped at a small garage full of vehicles.
“Mr. Homer,” the other drivers said. “You look sick.”
“I have anorexia,” Homer said.
“What is that?” they asked.
“I want to starve myself to death.”
“It’s a strange illness.”
They counted the number of boxes they had to take back to the city, while Homer reflected on his life. Did he want to spend the rest of his days with himself? The answer had to be yes. Before he went back to his shop by the market, he made sure the boxes had not been tampered by the customs.
“Are you all right Mr. Homer?” the driver asked.
“I never felt better,” Homer said.
“We’ll be leaving in seven minutes.”
Marriage
Homer couldn’t wait to tell Miguel the good news once he had arrived back in the shop.
“I’m getting married,” he said.
“Who is the lucky girl?” Miguel asked.
“I’m getting married to myself.”
“The doctor will give you medication,” Miguel said.
“I don’t need any medication,” Homer said. “I need a wife.”
“You are mad.”
Homer heard of the miracles doctors could perform on mad people while chewing coca leaves. Nobody married himself or herself unless they were crazy. He thought of the dark sun conspiring against him since his birth in the mist of time.
“Let’s go to the doctor,” Miguel said.
“We’ll go some other time.”
“It might be too late.”
Homer looked for Jaramillo’s telephone number in the phone book, his confidence having increased since he had started eating well. His friend’s voice answered at the other end of the line after a few moments.
“I’m getting married to myself,” Homer said.
“Is it to raise money?” the journalist asked.
“Yes.”
“It’s the best idea you have ever had,” Jaramillo said.
“Thank you.”
Homer phoned the hotel where the sailors stayed in the port to get more witnesses to his marriage and the best party he would have in his life. Homer congratulated himself for his plans to conquer the world, while waiting for the operator to connect him. He had to defeat the taxman at all costs.
“I’m getting married to myself,” Homer told Cesar.
“It’s a great idea,” Cesar said. “You can’t trust women.”
“How did you know?” Homer asked.
“You have just told me.”
Cesar seemed to know more about his life than anyone else in the world. At first he had been ready with the boats in the port but now he guessed his actions ahead of time. Homer imagined his friend’s predictions amidst scenes of devastation.
“My daughters are here,” Miguel interrupted his reverie.
Maria- looking more beautiful than ever- appeared with Amelia on tow. They brought rice pudding and other things their mother had prepared in the morning.
“Homer’s getting married to himself,” Miguel said.
“Stop joking,” Maria said.
“I’m not.”
She looked shocked, before regaining her composure. Homer had to be mad.
“I love you,” he said.
“But you marry yourself.”
Homer felt an erection while she fussed over him but women wanted food, clothes and toys for the children.
“I want to hang the balloons, Uncle Homer,” Amelia said.
It looked like a jungle after she had put a few decorations around the room, the clock in the wall keeping the pace of time in Homer’s most important day of his life.
“Why doesn’t he marry you?” Amelia asked her sister.
“Homer doesn’t want to,” Maria said.
The child shrugged. “You are pretty.”
Homer loved his money more than anything on earth but as she giggled, the sound of her voice made him hot under his trousers.
“Let’s talk,” he said.
“I’m busy.”
Amelia ran around them singing love songs, the sound of the door bell echoing in the air. Homer wished to be alone with Maria, before he had to love himself.
“That must be the other guests,” she moved along the hall, followed by Homer.
“Can I see you later?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
As he touched her teats as erects as his penis, Father Ricardo appeared holding a cross. The priest had shaved his head, a testimony to his sanctity.
“In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit,” he said.
“Amen,” Homer and Maria said in unison.
“Why is she here?” he gestured to the child.
“It’s Homer’s party,” Maria said.
Putting the cross on the floor, Father Ricardo surveyed the scene of sin, while opening his bible amidst the bags of confetti in the kitchen in order to exorcise their souls.
“I’ll give you money for the church tower,” Homer said.
Father Ricardo nodded. “The clock doesn’t work.”
“I’ll have it repaired.”
“What about the confessionary?”
“You can have a new one, father.”
“Our Lord’s picture by the altar is looking pale.”
“I’ll have it painted, father.”
“God bless you,” Father Ricardo said.
“Thank you.”
As Homer made a mental note of all the equipment he needed for Father Ricardo’s evangelical work, Cesar appeared in the shop with some of the sailors and stepped on the confetti Amelia had put on the floor.
“Are you getting married to yourself?” they asked.
Homer nodded.
“It’s a good idea,” they said.
“Hurray to Homer,” they chanted.
They looked for Homer’s bride behind the boxes of merchandise while passing a bottle of aguardiente around the room.
“Are you his girl?” they asked Maria.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Dear God,” Father Ricardo said.
Maria took a few slices of cake to the guests around the room under the sailor’s scrutiny.
“You are beautiful,” they said.
“She has a boyfriend,” Homer said.
“You love yourself.”
The sound of the door bell interrupted the party, when Homer moved along the corridor followed by Maria.
“Come to see me tonight,” he said.
“You have yourself.”
“I’ll give you money.”
On opening the door, Jaramillo appeared with his camera crew and their equipment. They had to find somewhere clean in order to film the wedding of the century.
“El Pais will pay you good money,” Jaramillo said. “And El Tiempo.”
“Hurrah to Homer,” everyone said.
They mixed the coca leaves with aguardiente before the ceremony started.
“We want Maria,” the sailors said.
“She’s mine,” Homer said.
Father Ricardo read parts of the bible, under the sounds of the wedding march from a gramophone Homer had bought in the market. Then the priest spoke of Homer’s commitment to himself until God called him to that place in the sky called heaven.
“I must join this man in matrimony to himself,” he said.
Homer held his own hands, as the priest read passages of the bible and the journalists took pictures for everyone to see. He had to show his love to the world.
“Do you accept yourself as your wife?” Father Ricardo asked.
Homer nodded. “I do.”
“I pronounce you husband and wife,” Father Ricardo said.
Jaramillo recorded the moment for posterity, while everyone congratulated Homer for choosing such a nice person to spend the rest of his days in harmony. It had been a nice party in the market.
“I want to marry you now,” Amelia said.
“Congratulations,” Maria said.
“Come to the cellar tonight,” Homer said.
“I don’t know.”
Homer had married himself, while Maria didn’t have a boyfriend, little Amelia’s dolls married each other and the festivities lasted until the morning when the cellar had confetti everywhere.
“It’s the happiest day of my life,” Homer said.
“You must start your honeymoon,” they said.
“You’ll be in the papers tomorrow,” Jaramillo said.
“Amen,” Father Ricardo said.
“Don’t you want more aguardiente?” Homer asked.
“Keep it for some other day.”
They left Homer alone with his hopes and thinking of his life up to that moment in time. He wanted more excitement in his shop in the middle of the market.
“I’m here,” a voice said.
Maria looked like an angel of mercy whilst her long hair covered her breasts.
“Are you real?” Homer asked.
“You chew too much coca,” she said.
He kissed her cunt, his lips savouring the pleasures of her flesh as shed moaned in ecstasy.
“I’m a virgin,” she said.
“This is not a dream,” he said.
Blood ran down her legs by the time he had finished making love to her, and the sheets had turned purple.
“You’ll have to marry me now,” she said.
“I have a wife.”
She had gone by the morning, leaving her fragrance of cheap perfume all around him. Businessman marries himself, said in big letters in El Pais and El Tiempo the next day, and people donated their money to the foreigner with the best ideas in the world.


The widows
Miguel had to go home to solve a family crisis, leaving Homer all alone with his customers. A beautiful girl had come in the shop, her breasts trembling under her blouse every time she breathed.
“Can I help you?” Homer asked.
She didn’t reply as she looked at the clothes in the corner, the light of the sun showing her curves through her dress. Homer gestured to a dark blouse in the counter.
“It’s nice,” she said.
Her voice brought memories of that other world of trees and hammocks where Kam had gone forever. Homer looked for a few things she might like to see while muttering to himself.
“These dresses would suit you,” he said.
She admired the material of the skirts Homer had taken out of the wardrobe.
“I have a nice bed inside the shop,” he said.
“I don’t want to know.”
They looked at each other, as the clock kept its pace and Homer crashed with a display by the door. She had to be an angel sent from heaven to enlighten his days in the market.
“I have some merchandise from Paris,” he said.
“That’s a long way away, Mr. Homer.”
“But it’s nice.”
Homer put a few more clothes on the table, hoping she might buy something in the shop, apart from his soul. He had silk tights the sailors had found somewhere in the Caribbean Sea amidst the crabs, women and rum.
“The paramilitaries killed my husband,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
This woman disserved some happiness after a life of suffering in the hands of the government, according to the reports he had seen in the papers during the last few months.
“You remind me of someone,” he said.
“Stop making fun of me,” she said.
“I’m not.”
Homer tidied the clothes in the counter, hoping to sell her something. Women looked more beautiful amidst the ruins of their lives.
“I have been hungry many times,” she said.
Unable to understand how she could go hungry, he showed her his arms as a sign of solidarity.
“I have anorexia,” he said.
“What is that?”
“I want to starve myself to death.”
“You are rich,” she said
“The tights are a present,” he said.
“I don’t want them.”
“Why?”
She pushed her hair back, her hips swaying at the rhythm of imaginary music while heading for the door.
“I have to go back to my children,” she said.
“What children?” he asked.
“I have lots of them.”
She opened the door with delicate hands made rough by scrubbing her children’s clothes- a beautiful soul, lost amongst her poverty.
“Bye,” she said.
“Wait a minute,” he said.
On hurrying after her, Homer crashed with a woman standing by the counter. He had not heard her come in the shop a few minutes before.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
The woman held a pink dress with sequels in her hands.
“I like it,” she said.
“It costs fifty pesos,” he said.
“It’s nice.”
Homer saw the girl disappearing amidst the crowd of shoppers at that time of the morning. She must have been in a hurry to get to her family.
“She won’t come back,” the woman said.
“Do you know where she lives?” he asked.
“In the slums, I suppose.”
As the woman checked some other blouses, Homer thought he had to find the girl, even if she lived at the end of time. Widows with many children had lots of debts and misery in their lives.
“I’ll give you one hundred pesos for the dress,” the woman interrupted his reverie.
“It costs more money.”
She looked at a few more things in the counter, while Homer studied a map of the slums.
“I’ll take her out of the gutter,” he said.
“I believe you, Mr. Homer,” she said.
“Thank you.”
He wrote down the prices of the clothes in the notebook Maria had given him for his birthday. He had to earn his money, even if the world played funny tricks sometimes.
“I want eighty pesos for the blouse,” he said.
“You’re a good man, Mr. Homer.”
Homer thought of the young widow, while wrapping the clothes in a nice paper for the woman to give someone else.
“My neighbour was attacked last night,” she interrupted his reverie.
She showed him a newspaper full of terrible stories of love and death under the cover of the shadows. Every day men, women and children appeared dead in the country and nobody cared, genocide becoming a national industry just as football and politics. Widows with lots of children were numerous, but no one would help them. Homer’s eyes filled with tears as he had another ingenious idea.
“We need a miracle to stop the violence,” she said.
“Would you give money to this miracle?” he asked.
The widow and her family had to suffer because of a mad world.
“I’ll see you some other day, Mr. Homer,” the woman said.
She left him alone with his thoughts of revenge and after getting a bicycle he kept in the garden shed, he found an air pump Miguel had in the cellar. He couldn’t afford an accident in the slums.


Homer builds houses
Homer cycled through the poor parts of the city until he found an empty plot of land to build his houses, the smell of the sewage assaulting his senses. It might look different once he had transformed the mess into houses for the poor, although he didn’t notice that a shadow looked at him from the bushes.
As he debated within himself whether a few houses could share a toilet in order to save money, a child appeared by his side. He had dirty hair and held a bag in his hands, while looking at him with dark eyes. Homer must have seen the urchin begging for money in the city centre or in the market.
“Can I have a coin, mister?” the child asked.
Putting the bag against his nose, he took a deep breath while looking at Homer.
“This is good stuff,” he said.
“Is it?” Homer asked.
“You can try it, mister.”
Shaking his head, Homer looked for any lose change he might have after buying the newspaper that morning. Then he found five cents amidst the remains of a chewing gum and some coca leaves he had put there earlier.
“Thank you, Mister,” the boy said.
After examining the coins with dirty hands, the child put them in his pocket. He had to be ten or eleven years old, difficult to tell with the dirty rags on his body.
“Where is your mother?” Homer asked.
“She died,” the child said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Look mister,” the child said. “I want some more money.”
Homer didn’t have anything else to give the poor orphan, but he might be helpful in his enterprise.
“Do you know of any builders around here?” Homer asked.
The boy gestured at the trash, where a few gamines played with a dirty ball while a dog chased them around the place.
“It’s behind those trees, mister” he said.
Homer’s shoes splashed in the water but the rainy season had not come yet. He didn’t know where the child could take him, as the other children looked in his pockets.
“Leave me alone,” Homer said.
The first boy imitated his accent and his friends laughed.
“Go away,” Homer said.
He hurt his legs with a few planks of wood someone had thrown in the garbage but they wouldn’t leave him alone.
“I’ll give you lots of money,” he said.
“We don’t believe you.”
Homer had to think fast, before they did something nasty. Straightening his clothes, he looked for his bicycle behind the bushes, even if he had not found his widow in the slums. He failed to notice a group of men gathering by his side.
“You should have brought aguardiente,” they said.
“I’ll call the police,” Homer said.
“Don’t you want your houses?”
They took him to an empty plot full of rubbish, where broken toys mixed with dirty nappies. Homer didn’t know what they wanted in such a horrible place.
“We can build your houses,” they said.
“You are not builders,” Homer said.
“Yes, we are.”
Homer wanted to see some kind of proof but they kept on laughing.
“This will be their floor,” the first man said.
Homer shrugged. “It’s mud.”
“The children will love it,” he said. “We’ll get cheap materials from the streets.”
“That’s stealing,” Homer said.
“It will cost you more money then.”
They had to work before the rains turned the slums into a river bigger than the Amazon, where everyone might drown. Homer wanted the young widow to live in peace.
“Nobody cares about poor people,” the man said.
“I do,” Homer said.
“You must have your own reasons.”
He wrote in a piece of paper a list of all the things they needed.
“We don’t charge for anything we steal from the streets,” they said.
“I see,” Homer said.
“We can’t afford anything else.”
They would build a hut to shelter the family against the weather, while electricity, water, sewers or any other amenities of the modern world cost more money.
“What about the toilets?” Homer asked.
“They can go outside.”
“That’s not clean.”
“Poor people don’t care.”
As Homer stepped in the dirt, his feet slipped in the ground. He hated this place more than anything on earth.
“I want to find a widow,” he said.
“We’ll get them for you,” the men said.
Homer smiled. “It’s a deal.”
“We’ll provide you with the houses and the widows,” they said.
Homer imagined his houses as the children played with the rats in the bogs.
“We’ll build them in seven days,” the men said.
“That’s good,” Homer said.
“You must trust us.”
Homer found his bicycle amidst the mud. It had been a good day, when a beautiful girl had shown him a way of helping the world.


Homer attends a party
The inhabitants of the slums admired the young entrepreneur and as Journalists heard of the widow’s helper, Homer became more famous than Saint Francis of Assize. The papers spoke of the five chalets destined to redeem the widows of the violence.
“We admire you,” the journalists said. “First you marry yourself and now you help the widows.”
“I have many talents,” Homer said.
Jaramillo took Homer’s picture talking to the women and smiling at the children in front of the world.
“Homer’s like a father to us,” they said with tears in their eyes.
“Thank you,” Homer said.
One of the women hugged him for some time, a child wriggling in her arms, while leaving her essence of baby powder and cologne in his body.
“I could be in the gutter,” she said.
“Hurrah to Homer,” they said.
She made him frantic with desire, before disentangling himself from her arms and as Homer got ready to answer more questions for the nation.
“I want to help the women,” he said.
“Hurrah to Homer,” they said.
He showed the journalists pictures of the families living rough, before moving to his housing project.
“They needed somewhere to live,” he said.
“What about the rubble?” the journalists asked.
“The workmen will take it away,” Homer said.
“We hope so.”
The sewers stunk in the middle of the day as Homer tried to get money for his plan, even if a few of his workmen had been caught stealing from a building site. Then a car stopped by the huts, sprinkling mud all over the crowd.
“It must be the bishop,” Jaramillo said.
A short man, dressed in a black gown and with a crucifix dangling from his belt left the vehicle while other priests followed him down the path.
“I want to see Homer,” the bishop said.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Excellency,” Homer said.
As the bishop stretched his hands, Homer didn’t know whether to kiss the expensive rings the man had in his fingers. They had to be worth lots of money in the market or anywhere else.
“We have helped the families, Excellency” Homer said.
“That’s good,” the bishop said.
“They are building some more houses over there,” Homer gestured at an empty space, where a few shadows sat behind a wall.
“They didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Homer said.
“I see.”
Moving through the dirt, his Excellency reached a woman and her children lurking amidst the mud, the cameras recording the moment for posterity.
“We were afraid,” she said.
“Homer wants to help you,” the bishop said.
“Thank you.”
“God loves you,” the bishop said.
He blessed her in the name of the father, the son and the Holy Spirit, while she knelt down on the floor. She had to trust God’s representative in the slums.
“My children will thank you, Excellency,” she said.
The bishop touched her erect teats with trembling fingers. He had to have some satisfaction amongst God’s people.
“Will I go straight to heaven, Excellency?” she asked.
The bishop nodded. “You’ll sit next to Saint Peter up there.”
“I’m glad,” she said.
The bishop sprinkled holy water on her head, as the country followed the events in the first radio station in the city, the water absolving her sins forever.
“Homer is our benefactor,” she said.
“I know,” the bishop said.
He offered her his ring, as the woman prayed to the Virgin Mary.
“I’ll see you in the church tomorrow,” the bishop said.
“Thank you Excellency,” she said.
“I have written a letter to be read for a few weeks in all the churches in the city,” the bishop said.
Homer admired the bishop, a man of integrity battling to save humankind from hell, while everyone waited for his words.
“Dear children,” the bishop said.
“Our flock has been invaded by the wolves the scriptures talk about as atheists and sinners lead the herd God has given me.
“You have witnessed my efforts to kill these wolves, but the earth throws them out in big numbers every day. These atheists are the antichrists the scriptures talk about.
“Assassins without any faith kill men, women and children. Our churches have been filled by orphans and poor widows who ask the heavens for retaliation to punish the sinners just as he did with the Egyptian children some time ago.
“You must be afraid of his anger and repent of your sins. If the Devil appears from the abyss, the angels can also come from the heavens. God hasn’t abandoned us yet.
“A foreigner called Homer has dedicated his life to help the widows and orphans of the violence. We need the solidarity of God’s people to win over the darkness doing the most despicable sins against the poor.
“I’m asking you to send money to our Episcopal palace, as our real country is up in heaven or down in hell for sinners. Perhaps they didn’t help their poor brothers and sisters.
“You’ll have God’s blessing for every million pesos you give to Homer for his mission on earth.
“His Highness, Pomponio, bishop of the city.”
The letter had a good effect. Homer received many times the money he had spent in the houses, even if the bishop had to reprimand a few priests who wanted a percentage of the earnings. Jaramillo shared some of his money in order to keep the press quiet about the lack of toilets and other things in the widow’s housing while Homer looked very well in the pictures. The mystical breakdowns of Saint Theresa might give us an idea of Homer’s face before the cameras in those moments of ecstasy.
The citizens filled millions of petitions asking for social solidarity as the governor with all his cabinet marched to the Widow’s Houses, failing to notice the absence of toilets, water or electricity.


Amelia’s wishes
Homer had to attend a party that afternoon to celebrate the widow’s housing, a chance for getting more money for his charity even if he had to endure people talking about nonsense for hours. On looking at his image in the mirror, his green eyes looked back at him. He had to convince his audience of his mission on earth as Miguel appeared by his side followed by Amelia.
“Good morning, Mr. Homer” they greeted.
Miguel poured orange juice in a glass, while Amelia prepared Homer’s breakfast.
“You must eat, Uncle Homer,” the child said.
“It’s good for your heath,” Miguel said.
Homer ate the egg, before mixing it with the toasts and leaving yellow streaks in the plate.
“I saw your picture in the papers,” Amelia said.
She showed him the newspaper they had bought in their way to the shop. Homer attends a banquet today, it said across the front page of El Pais, where the governor and other personalities had been campaigning to raise money for the widow’s housing.
“Have you found your widow?” Miguel asked.
Homer shrugged. “No.”
Amelia followed the letters with her fingers, her eyes widening at the amounts of money promised by some people to the cause.
“You are rich, Uncle Homer,” she said.
“That’s the widow’s money,” Miguel said.
Amelia forgot about it as she marched around the room at the rhythm of imaginary music. The child went around the table a few times, chanting to herself.
“She wants to join the army,” Miguel said.
Homer had been thinking of the widows and his words didn’t make any sense. She could become a lawyer or an accountant instead of being a soldier.
“I’ll pay for your university,” he said. “The army is for men.”
Sitting in his only chair, he discussed her education while Miguel checked the boxes of coca stored against the wall. She had to learn how to conquer the world like he had done since his birth.
“The army is the best university,” Amelia said.
She marched around the shop, talking to herself.
“One, two, one two,” she said.
“It must be her age,” Miguel said.
“I hope so,” Homer said.
He thought of a way to convince the country of his intentions with the widows, who needed to lead normal lives in the world.
“This is my speech,” Homer said holding a piece of paper.
“I am the apostle of the oppressed,” he said. “Because I love my people.”
Amelia listened to his words. One day she’d remembered them as the world collapsed around her in an explosion of colours.
“I like it, Uncle Homer,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t you have anything else?” Miguel asked.
Homer looked hurt, as if those first words had not been the best.
“I have them in my diary,” he said.
On looking at his reflection in the mirror, he pushed some strands of hair back. He had to sound convincing to the world.
“They have to believe me,” he said.
“Yes, Mr. Homer,” Miguel said.
“One, two, one, two,” Amelia said.
Homer got ready while the sun shone through the cheap curtains he had found in the market.
“Two and two are seven,” he said.
Amelia shook her head. “Two and two are four and everyone knows that.”
“I see,” Homer said.
“You don’t know anything,” she said.
“You’ll be late for your party,” Miguel said.
“Can I come?” Amelia asked.
“It’s for adults.”
Homer got ready to leave the shop, thinking of his speech to convince the people to part with their money for his cause.
“Look for the shadows, Uncle Homer,” Amelia said.
“What shadows?”


The banquet
“We were waiting for you,” a young woman said in the town hall.
As she took him along the aisle, Homer felt the public’s eyes following his journey to the podium. He needed the money even though he wanted to go back to his shop.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the governor said. “This is the apostle of the poor."
“Hurrah to Homer,” people said.
Homer waited for the applause to die down, before looking at an old bible Miguel had given him that morning. God had filled the land and sky with water in just seven days, a miracle he had to replicate once more.
“Our father who art in heaven,” Homer said. “Hollowed be thy name.”
“Thy kingdom will come,” the governor said.
“Give us our daily bread,” people said.
Homer felt lost amidst the public, hungry for his words. Then the sky left him in darkness and lost amidst the jungle.
“Mister Homer,” someone said.
Homer saw the girl, holding a handkerchief full of cologne on his nose.
“You fainted,” she said.
“It must be the excitement,” he said.
Homer remained in his seat with the handkerchief by his nose, while a few señoritas served the food to the crowd. The beauty queen of Colombia, the queen of the potato, the yucca, the corn, the banana, the peas, the pumpkin, the yucca bread, the tamales, the guarapo, and a hundred more beauties left a bowl of boiling water and cold bread for the sum of thousands of pesos in front of each one of the guests. Mingling with the journalists and other celebrities, rich people hoped that God would absolve their past sins and those still to come.
“Are you feeling better?” the governor asked.
“I think so,” Homer said.
“You must eat with us.”
He took him to one of the tables, where the other guests enjoyed the banquet. One of the girls balanced a tray in her hands, before giving him a bowl of hot water with a few things floating in it. Homer hated the food.
“Enjoy your lunch, Mr. Homer,” she said.
“Why don’t you sit with me?” he asked.
“I’m busy.”
Jaramillo- looking smart in his suit - had come to celebrate the widow’s day.
“The food is awful,” he said.
“I know.”
“Why are you eating it?”
“I need the money,” Homer said.
A young woman, dressed in a golden gown stopped by their side. She had nice teats, and her long hair was tied with a ribbon.
“I love you,” she said.
“Thank you,” Homer said.
As she kissed his hands, Homer felt her teats through her blouse and her vagina
through her pants.
“I’m the curuba queen,” she said.
“That is nice,” Homer said.
She left a sweet taste in his lips and by the time the pineapple queen sat in his lap, he had forgotten his mission on earth. She had a mini skirt, making it easy for him to feel around her body.
“I have to attend a beauty pageant tonight,” she said.
“I’ll make you win.”
“Thank you.”
Feeling her cunt through her pants, he wanted to take her to a dark corner of the room.
“I’ll give you money,” Homer said.
“How much?” she asked.
“Lots of it.”
She kept on moving her bottom until the world dissolved in the colours of his pleasure, and the semen wet his trousers in the most important day of his life.
“It’s my turn now,” the coffee queen said, her breasts trembling under her gown.
“Are you a virgin?” Homer asked.
“Of course I am,” the girl said.
“You must prove it tonight.”
“We have collected ten million pesos,” a voice interrupted the conversation.
“Hurrah to Homer,” everyone said.
People in the restaurant sobbed, radio audiences cried as the newspaper readers would cry the next day and the widows wept. Homer had to be a genius.
He had made enough cash to build a city filled with widows but he needed the money for his projects. Five more huts joined the others while some young and pretty widows who liked the bishop, went to live there. Homer had never earned so much and so quickly but he had to think of himself first.


Tragedy
Jealousy reigned in the heavens and as they heard of Homer’s good work, bad angels opened the gates of rain over the city. A few widows and orphans drowned but the newspapers called it a calamity of nature. God takes away innocent lives, the headlines said as the victims’ pictures appeared under the titles, exalting the women’s bravery on confronting the elements in their homes. The wooden coffins would be lowered into the ground later that day without any ceremony.
Homer had been barking the night before and on hearing someone knocking at the door, he thought Miguel had forgotten his keys or the coca delivery had arrived. Jaramillo held the morning paper in his hands.
“It rained last night,” he said.
“I don’t understand.”
“The river burst its banks.”
Homer sat on his bed, too traumatised to talk, while blaming nature for their misfortune at the hands of the weather. The devil must have done it on purpose.
“They were so full of life,” Homer said.
Jaramillo showed him the papers, talking of the drama during the night.
“They didn’t escape,” Homer said.
Jaramillo shrugged. “It was impossible.”
Homer read of the survivors looking for their children in the mud amidst their screams.
“The place is a mess,” Jaramillo said. “The rest of the families are in the church at the moment.”
“That is a relief.”
Father Ricardo’s picture had been displayed in the papers, as Homer remembered the day when the orchestra had played and the semen wet his pants. He signed a check, on the table.
“You must help me,” he said.
Homer had to help the survivors of the tragedy God had entrusted to his care. He had touched their bodies, wearing cheap bras and pants before they found their death in the mud.
“Can you drive me to the builders?” Homer asked.
He had to build more houses for the families, punished by the weather in a terrible way. Clutching his wallet, he followed Jaramillo to his car as the city awoke to the news and bell of the church tolled forever.
“It must be Armageddon,” Homer said.


Alicia
A woman came to se Homer the next day.
“I’m Alicia,” she said.
Homer shook hands with the stranger.
“You have been nominated for a medal,” she said. “The ceremony will take place in the library.”
“Thank you.”
Homer watched her breasts trembling under her dress.
“The rains killed the widows,” he said.
She must have read the papers blaming the weather for the tragedy that had shaken the nation. Holding her handbag, she stepped around the mess on the floor.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Homer asked.
“Thank you,” she said.
Alicia showed him a bit of her hips, looking like one of those Hollywood stars he had seen in the local cinema.
“This tragedy is killing me,” he said.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know.”
On moving closer, Homer wanted to hug this woman sent by God to his world. Lifting her skirt, he revealed her frilly pants welcoming him to paradise.
“You must control yourself,” she said.
“Miguel won’t know anything.”
“Miguel?”
“He’s my employee.”
Homer sucked her nipples as she prayed to the saints in the sky, and before her vagina appeared amidst her pubic hair.
“Are you a virgin?” he asked.
She didn’t answer but as he entered her, their voices cried in chorus to the gods of Olympus while climaxing at the same time. Then they waited for the excitement to die down, and their happiness to fade.
“Mr. Homer,” she said. “I don’t sleep with men I don’t know.”
Covering her legs with her skirt, she tried to erase all traces of her sins.
“Don’t mention this to anyone,” she said.
“I won’t.”
She moved amongst the bags of coca, looking after the store like sentinels.
“I’ll see you later,” she said.
Homer sat in his chair, too excited to think about anything else but then he barked, the sound getting lost in the stillness of the day. The phone ringing in the kitchen disturbed his thoughts of sex and pleasures of the flesh.
“Mr. Homer,” Alicia said. “I’ll come for you tomorrow morning.”
Homer thanked her, before putting the phone down.
“Thank you,” he said to the sky.
The passage of time would lead him towards the end of matter, women’s pants and the mysteries of the world.


The library
Alicia appeared next morning, wearing her best dress and smelling of cologne.
“Mr. Homer,” she said.
“Don’t talk,” he said.
Kissing her mouth, he tasted her lipstick as they rolled on the floor. Then he lost himself in her breasts, the smell of cologne assaulting his senses, while his hands explored her body.
“They’re waiting for us,” she said.
“God wants us to mate,” he said.
“You are mad.”
Homer entered her in spite of her protests, her voice getting lost in her prayers to God, the smell of coca and the sound of drums around them. They ended up in a heap by the door, her skirt floating like a halo around her waist.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Homer licked her wet vagina to cleanse all her impurities, as she moaned.
“I love you,” he said.
“You must say that to all the girls.”
She forgot all about the library as he sucked her clitoris and they had the best orgasm of their lives.
“We must go,” she said.
She muttered a few things about the city mayor and his entourage, waiting somewhere in time.
“We’ll be late,” she said.
“I know.”
He didn’t know why women played with his feelings, as they got dressed.
“We must hurry,” she said.
After getting ready, Homer boarded vehicle, waiting by the shop as his hands brushed against hers.
“I’m nervous,” he said.
Alicia smiled. “Don’t worry.”
“Can I see you tonight then?”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Mr. Homer,” she said. “You must stop harassing me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He felt lost in the world of his senses, while people moved down the streets and the world revolved around them. This woman didn’t want anything else to do with him, as the car stopped by the library.
“Do you love me?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Bastard.”
“Thanks.”
A few shadows in the sky warned them of a storm, if they didn’t change their ways but everyone cheered them in the lecture hall a few moments later.
“Here is our saint apostle,” Alicia said.
She passed Homer the microphone amongst the cheers from the audience.
“We have gathered here today,” Homer said. “To remember those brothers and sisters who lost their lives in a calamity of nature. They will go straight to heaven, because the meek and the poor are welcome in his kingdom.”
The audience clapped but Homer passed the microphone to Alicia while mumbling something.
“Our apostle doesn’t feel well,” she said.
Homer sat down as she told them how much he had suffered after the widows died.
“We give Apostle Homer a cheque for thousands of dollars to build more houses,” she said.
Homer felt the happiest man in the city, after accepting the money.
“Thank you,” he muttered.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Come to the shop tonight,” he said.
It had been a good day, when the souls of the town had got together to save the slums but he wanted more sex with her.


Houses for the widows
Homer had shown the world who he was and the results had been magnificent, as most of the town had blamed the tragedy on the weather. The rains had spoiled played with her dolls as her father worked and Homer checked his money in the safe. He would take it to the bank later on.
“You’re rich, Uncle Homer,” she said.
Homer showed her the coin he kept in a box amongst his money. After cleaning Uncle Hugh’s present with a cloth, he put it on the table amongst the remnants of his breakfast.
“Two and two are seven,” he said and Amelia laughed.
“You’re funny, Uncle Homer,” she said. “When will you marry yourself again?”
Homer put the money back in the safe. He had to check the work the builders had done over the last few days.
“One, two, one, two,” she said.
Then she saluted him military style, her dark eyes looking serious.
“I watch the soldiers practicing in the streets,” she said.
“Where do you see them?”
“They train for the mountains.”
Homer combed his hair, getting ready to go to the widow’s housing while thinking in the soldiers. They shouldn’t go around killing people around the city.
“I want your coin,” Amelia said.
“You’ll inherit it one day.”
“When will it be?”
After putting it back in the safe, he got ready to go to the widow’s housing at the other side of the market. He had to reinforce the houses against the elements.
“I want to come with you,” Amelia said.
Homer shook his head. She could catch an illness amongst the people of the slums.
“You have to help me in the shop,” Miguel said.
She wrote her name in big letters adding a few dots and commas in a paper she found on the table. That’s how she would help her father to keep the customers’ accounts.
“I can write a whole prayer,” she said.
Homer smiled. “That’s very good.”
“Saint Peter will take me to heaven.”
She commanded an invisible troop of soldiers marching around the house, as Homer went on his way.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
“One, two,” she said.
On leaving the house, Homer saw the sellers shouting their wares in order to attract more customers. Then a woman knelt on the pavement, praying to her god or whoever she thought had created the world.
“You are our apostle,” she said.
“Thank you.”
Homer felt that anguish again. They might want to punish him for the women’s suffering.
“I’m in a hurry,” he said.
“Hurrah to Homer,” she said.
Homer moved through the streets, a trail of people muttering prayers to the creator of everything around them. A woman touched his cock but he didn’t have any time to please her urges.
“You are my hero,” she said.
Homer felt her teats before moving away along the streets, bathed by the sun. Then he entered the slums, filled with children dressed in rugs.
“Mr. Homer,” one of the builders said. “We have finished some of the huts.”
“That’s good,” Homer said.
The workmen had built cisterns in the backyards of a few houses while the sewer smelt in the heat of the day. On looking at the muddy streets where the water had killed the families, Homer wished he had taken his time through the city.
“We need thousands pesos to make the river safe,” the builders said.
“I will think about it,” Homer said.
The journalists appeared with their cameras, for future generations to see the apostle of the poor after the worst tragedy of the country.
“We are sorry,” they said.
“The rains killed them,” Homer said.
“We know.”
The children crowded around him, hoping to see their hero’s face.
“We want to take some more pictures,” the journalist said.
“That will cost you money.”
“How much?” they asked.
“Thousands of pesos.”
Homer posed with the children, while smiling at the mothers he might take to bed one day. Women liked men who could pay for their sex.
“The houses are reinforced with concrete now,” the builder said.
“That’s good,” Homer said.
The cameras flashed and the sun shone, as a woman hugged him. After kissing his lips, she pressed herself against his body and the people cheered.
“Thank you, Mr. Homer,” she said.
“We love you,” everyone said.
They kept on filming as lightning crisscrossed the sky, thunder reminding them of hell but the rains stayed away for another day.

The widow’s business
The widow’s business brought great publicity, benefiting Homer’s smuggled goods and taxes. He had asked the mothers to sign a few documents, but most of them couldn’t read. He would stand next to the children as the women scribbled something under a few pages of legal language.
“Would you like to eat with us, Mr. Homer?” they asked.
Homer had to show the nation what a kind man he was.
“It would be an honour to be your guest,” he said.
On following one of the women into a house, he saw a table in a corner of the room, surrounded by boxes. They must have found it amidst the rubbish somewhere in the city. Homer tried to avoid the mud on the floor, as he sat on one of the beds.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked.
“Thank you,” he said.
She talked of her wonderful home, while her children poured water out of a bucket in the adjacent room. It might cost lots of money for Homer to bring the water from the aqueduct.
“It wasn’t your fault, Mr. Homer,” she said.
“God will help us.”
“I know.”
The woman chatted about her family. Her oldest child went to the nearby school but the little ones stayed at home, helping her to clear the mud and feeding the rabbit they had.
“Do you have a rabbit?” Homer asked.
“The woman smiled. “It’s a rat my children rescued from the sewer.”
Looking at the wriggling rodent a baby held in his hands, Homer wanted to run away from there but he had to do his business. As he put some papers on the table, a young girl appeared with a few cups on a tray.
“You must have your coffee, Mr. Homer,” the woman said.
Homer accepted the cup she offered him, hoping the hot water had killed the germs.
“Thank you,” he said.
On thinking of the best excuse to run away before he died of cholera, dysentery or something else, he heard of the trauma after the rains had come.
“I didn’t lose any of my children,” she said.
“Thank God,” Homer said.
“My eldest daughter woke me up.”
“That’s good.”
“God saved us,” she said.
As the rodent ran between his legs, Homer threw his papers on the floor. It could have rabies.
“He’s fine,” the woman said.
Homer touched her teats, in spite of the rat but she remained silent.
“I’ll give you money,” he said.
After taking him to a room without any windows, she took off her bra, while keeping her pants on. Then she unzipped his trousers, releasing his member.
“It’s huge,” she said.
“Thanks.”
She put the monster in her mouth, while stroking his balls until the semen splashed her face.
“I have found another one,” a little boy said as Homer zipped up his trousers. A rodent looked at him from the boy’s hands.
“Antonio has been living with us for some time,” the woman said.
“Who?”
“The rat.”
Homer studied the shadows around him, expecting to see more rodents moving behind the things. Poor people didn’t know anything about hygiene, as he gave her a few hundred pesos for her job.
“Thank you, Mr. Homer,” she said. “Can I do something else for you?”
“You must come to see me,” he said.
Homer spent the next minutes feeling inside her pants, as her children played with the rats in the house. She moaned with pleasure while his fingers waded through the wetness of her cunt.
“I thank you again,” she said.
He didn’t know why she thanked him, when her life seemed to be full of horrors. After wiping his hands in his handkerchief, he took some papers out of his bag.
“I want you to sign these forms,” he said.
“I can’t read Mr. Homer.”
“It’s to improve your lives.”
She smiled. “You are a saint.”
“And my cock is huge.”
“You are right.”
She signed with trembling hands, ready to give him some more pleasure for a few pesos. He wanted to help the families of the world lead a better life.
“I’d do anything for you,” she said.
“I know.”
Homer left the house, pleased with his actions. The papers the women had signed left him out of reach of the income tax, as his expenditure was greater than his earnings according to the papers. He had done all of this for the poor women. Homer brought tax free goods into the country every month, where the boxes had a cross on them. It said in big red letters: Charity. This food is for the poor of Colombia. Look after it!
Sacks full of wheat arrived sometimes but they usually contained goods. Sport cars were smuggled with ‘frozen food,’ written on them and any food sent in the packets would be sold at high prices to Homer’s customers. His ships brought Swiss watches, Scotch whisky, French Wines, tinned food from all over the world, televisions, videos, pants, bras and other things.
Homer’s modest shop became a world bazaar. You could find a Mercedes Benz or fine French pants, while custom officials never wondered about so many expensive and rare things. Nobody doubted Apostle Homer’s behaviour or the public would attack them. He gave them whisky, cigarettes and lighters and sometimes he sent them cheques for a few thousand pesos for Christmas. What a remarkable man!
The old boats: Athena, Sparta and The Thermopiles had been replaced by three new and powerful ships: Odysseus, Ajax, Diogenes and Cyclops. They traded in goods. Homer slept better during the nights, and as he lay on his bed with a few rags on, he counted and recounted the day’s earnings.
Homer drank a cup of tea with a portion of rotten cheese three times a week. He had bought three suits in a second hand shop, and had put on some weight, forgetting his anorexia.


Lola
As Homer walked around his property barking, a neighbour paid two hundred pesos for him to patrol his business during the night. He used the money to buy some meat and regain his health. Homer’s face became synonymous with love and charity, as he appeared in the papers and spoke on the radio about the widows he had saved from the gutter. He had not seen Alicia again. The woman had disappeared from his life forever.
“I think of the widows all the time,” Homer said in the radio.
People showered him with money when he cried in the studio. The tragedy had been forgotten as he talked in the library a few more times about his pain, losing count of all the charitable functions he attended. After hiring the builders to paint the widow’s houses for a few pesos, he put the rest of the money in his safe, the papers cashing on his fame. Everyone bought El Pais when he appeared in the front page, forgetting the women and their families living in squalor.
Someone else had an impact on his life at that time. On seeing a beautiful woman in the market one day, Homer had chased her through the crowd, crashing with the stalls in his way. He had never seen anything else like that since his trip to the jungle.
“What a woman,” he muttered to himself.
After he had followed her for a few minutes, she stopped to talk to Fray Serapio by the church steps. Homer looked at the merchandise in one of the shops, as the girl talked to the priest and the sun warmed his head. Then she kissed the man of God. Homer had never liked Fray Serapio, with his bold head and huge nose. Then he chased her through the traffic, the car drivers shouting obscenities.
“Do you want to die?” they asked.
Homer ran along the shops full of merchandise, but she must have gone inside one of the houses at the end of the street. Miguel also lived there with his large family. Homer moved along the road while listening to the music from the shops and kicking a stone he found in his way.
“How are the widows, Mr. Homer?” someone asked.
“They’re fine.”
On looking at the shop windows, Homer saw a few posters of his lectures in the library. People loved him in a city where he could make his money amidst the problems. Lost in his thoughts, he found Miguel wiping the counters.
“I’ve met a woman,” Homer said.
“You always do.”
“I lost her by your house.”
Homer told him all about the beauty he had seen, a ghost from another age, tempting him with her charms before disappearing somewhere.
“She’s called Lola and works in a shop,” Miguel said.
“How do you know?” Homer asked.
“It must be her, Mr. Homer.” Miguel said.
Homer thought that Lola looked better than a duchess even if she dressed in rags. He planned to meet her that evening, after Miguel told him where she worked by the market.
“Maria is a nice girl,” Miguel said. “You should take her to the cinema.”
Homer chewed coca leaves, indifferent to his problems. He had to appear cool in front of the most beautiful woman in the city but how could he see Lola and look after his trucks at the same time? The driver could waste the petrol or he might even bring his girlfriend to the journey.
“Lola lives with her mother,” Miguel said.
“That’s interesting,” Homer said.
“Why?”
“She doesn’t have a husband.”
Homer imagined making love to her before the end of the world. He waited for the girl that evening instead of counting his money in El Baratillo, or looking after his ships in the port. Then she appeared, looking as beautiful as ever.
“You look like a million pesos,” Homer said.
He didn’t feel well because he had masturbated the day before or the thought of a million pesos. The two things made him as pale as an anaemic flower, but any woman would fall in love with his money.
“Can I walk you home?” he asked.
He had to be strong in front of the most beautiful girl in town, while her teats trembled with her breath.
“I work hard to pay my debts,” Lola said.
“I’m also poor.”
It had to be love at first sight like they said in the soap operas. As she stopped by a little house with a red door, he expected to meet some of the members of her family.
“My mother can’t see you,” she said.
“Why?” he asked.
“She’s very strict.”
Homer loved this woman more than anything in his life in spite all the problems.
“I must go,” she said.
“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said.
On opening the door, she disappeared inside the house, leaving Homer alone with his pain. A husband could be waiting for her amidst the shadows, where he would love her all night. Homer couldn’t trust women anymore.
“Two and two are seven,” he muttered to himself.
The clouds parted, showing him a sky full of stars, the Milky Way making its way across space where the future waited.


Lola’s life
Homer waited for Lola by the market the next day, even if he didn’t look after his business. He offered her a red rose from someone’s garden as she moved down the street.
“Thank you,” she said, her breasts trembling under her blouse.
“Can I take you home?” he asked.
He felt her scent, carried by the breeze towards his soul, while feeling jealous of all the attention she got from the men. On stopping in front of her house, he waited for her to send him away.
“I’ll introduce you to mother,” she said.
“She didn’t want to see me last night.”
“It’s all right now.”
Homer imagined Lola’s mother as a monster guarding her daughter against all evil but a nice woman opened the door. She had Lola’s dark eyes and brown hair.
“I have seen your pictures in the papers,” she said.
“Mother has followed your campaign of love.”
Homer sat next to Lola in the sitting room, while the woman prepared dinner in the kitchen. She let him hold her hands, her skirt riding up her legs and showing her hips.
“Mother might come in,” she said.
“She’s cooking the dinner.”
Homer wondered how he could get her without her mother noticing the erection lifting his trousers.
“I like you,” he said.
“I know.”
“Can I touch your legs?”
Homer caressed her thighs but she remained quiet. He let his monster out of his trousers, expecting her to be angry or anything else like that.
“Would you like to suck it?” he asked.
She held it with trembling fingers, as he inserted his fingers in her vagina.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Aaaa..,” she said.
He pushed his monster inside her many times until her body trembled under the orgasm. As he zipped up his trousers and rearranged his clothes, she erased her sins with a towel her mother must have left by the sofa. Then she saw hundreds of tiny animals crawling in his hair.
“I must have caught them in the widow’s houses,” Homer said.
“They are horrible,” Lola said.
He thought she made a fuss about nothing. His business in the slums had left him full of money and lice.
“I’ll get some poison tomorrow,” he said.
“You must do it today,” she said.
He nodded. “It’s fine.”
Lola talked about her job, where they didn’t pay her well even if she worked long hours, as her mother appeared with two glasses of aguardiente on a tray. She showed him some of her teats, while putting the glasses on the table.
“My daughter wants to marry a rich man,” she said.
“Mother,” Lola said.
“We need the money,” the woman said.
She told him all about their life before Lola’s father had died of a heart attack. It must have been an exciting time because she cried.
“Mother thinks our destiny is written somewhere,” Lola said.
Homer shrugged. “I don’t understand.”
The woman showed him some papers she kept in a draw, with diagrams of the life line travelling through time. It had to do with the universe.
“We have lived before,” she said.
“I see,” Homer said.
“Mum knows about it,” Lola said.
“Did you know I would come here today?” he asked.
The woman shrugged. “Of course I did.”
Putting the cards face down on the table, she asked Homer to take one of them. As he showed her his card, she frowned.
“Darkness surrounds your soul,” she said.
“I was born during a solar eclipse.”
She smiled. “That explains everything.”
The electricity went off and Homer held Lola’s hand as everyone screamed. Her mother must have planned the whole thing to scare him to death or she wanted his money.
“Did we pay the bill?” Lola asked.
“I never forget,” the woman said.
As the light of a candle illuminated the room, Homer saw their faces amidst the darkness of the world. They had to thank the electrical plant for the chaos it caused when the energy went off sometimes.
“This is you first life cycle,” the woman said.
“What does it have to do with the light?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
Homer saw shadows looking at him beyond the candle, while the woman put the cards on the table.
“Pick another card,” she said.
As Homer took one of them, the woman shook her head.
“A child keeps you company in the darkness,” she said.
“What happened before the darkness?” he asked.
The light came back, chasing the shadows away from the room, as Lola brought some more cups of coffee in a tray.
“You must finish with the danger,” the woman said.
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“Stop it, mother,” Lola said.
“He has to know.”
She had let them make love in the sitting room while guessing his luck and the end of time.
“It’s Armageddon,” the woman said.


Homer is in love
Homer had fallen in love, a beautiful woman changing the way he saw the world. He bought some soap and had a bath, but he wanted Lola to soap his back. He had never done so many things on the same day, while Lola slept alone. Chastity might be a good thing sometimes.
You know where to start when you are in love but you don’t know when it will end. Homer invited Lola to have an ice cream that afternoon but he had a glass of water to save his money. Nobody had ever seen Homer looking so cheerful, even if he forgot to bark in the neighbour’s house. It had to be a miracle. Travelling to the port that week, he sat next to the driver and slept in a hotel that charged a few hundred pesos per night but it didn’t end there. The truck driver wanted to keep a bit of a coconut Homer had bought in the port.
“It will bring me good luck,” he said.
Everybody felt happy as Homer looked at his reflection in the mirror.
“You can leave me in the corner,” he told the driver.
“Good luck, Mr. Homer.”
“Thank you.”
As Homer waited for his love, before the sun set behind the buildings, he saw her coming along the street, wearing a pink a rose by her breasts
“Give us a smile,” the shop owners said.
Lola didn’t answer their comments before meeting Homer.
“This is for you,” he said.
Lola saw the present he held in his hand. A coconut didn’t seem the best thing in the world for someone who wanted to be rich one day.
“Can I come with you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He followed her along the street but Lola moved fast, even though he had promised to love her for an eternity.
“Wait for me,” he said.
“You are evil.”
“Lola...,” Homer said.
He crashed with a few people standing in his way, while chasing her along the street.
“Cretin,” someone said.
“Shut up,” he said.
Homer thought of her mother’s predictions amidst the market. The girl ignored him even though they had a good time the other night and the world might end one day.
“We love you,” an old lady said.
“He’s a saint,” someone else said.
He managed to get out of the tumult, as lightning lit the street and Father Ricardo appeared by his side like an ambassador of hell. The priest looked fat and happy with himself, while showing his false teeth.
“Women will kill you one day,” Father Ricardo said.
“I know.”
“Stop chasing them then.”
“How did you know?” Homer asked.
“God tells me everything.”
Thunder rumbled around them as Homer reflected in Lola’s words and the rain threatened the market. Lola’s mother had to be jealous of her daughter’s youth or she knew witchcraft.
“You must read the scriptures,” father Ricardo said.
“I see.”
“You never do.”
On arriving at his shop, Homer found Miguel serving the customers but Maria had not come.
“Nobody loves me,” Homer said.
“You have your girlfriend,” Miguel said.
“Her mother is weird,” Homer said.
He reproached himself. Why had he spent so much money in the girl? This question kept on repeating itself like a character in a nightmare. Why did he give her the coconut? He could have fed himself with it for a week, and the ice cream had been expensive. Homer had seen people eating, drinking and spending money without a care in the world. They had to be crazy. People who took care of their money looked fat and healthy but Homer didn’t feel well.
He missed Lola’s firm breasts and sex appeal, as he masturbated repeatedly, dreaming of a muddy lake full of bits of women and dollar bills. He had been destroyed by sex, mud, sex and mud.
Wondering if the manuscripts might have an answer to his mental distress, he found the roll of papers Jose had left on the floor. Sitting down at the table, he spent a long time writing down his own interpretation of the words throughout the pages. They had to be important, if Jose had left them on the floor. Homer remembered his childhood, when Uncle Hugh had visited his house and nothing else mattered in the world.
“Two and two are seven,” he said.
Homer copied some of the letters amidst the problems of his life. He had to understand those lines, leading him to the end of time. Miguel found him on the floor later on.
“It’s Armageddon,” Homer said.
“You must go to the doctor,” Miguel said.
“They charge money.”
Miguel brought him milk and brandy and Homer felt much better but then he found out what he had and felt ill again.
“You don’t have to pay for anything,” Miguel said. “It’s a present.”
Homer felt some of the darkness leaving his mind for the moment.


Disgrace
As Lola moved past the people doing their shopping in the market, the builders admired her charms. On arriving at the church, she went through its heavy doors, decorated with Latin words to keep the devil away from the town, before she noticed the confessionary by the altar. Kneeling by its side, she peered within the shatters hiding God’s representative on earth from normal souls.
“I have sinned, father,” she said.
Father Ricardo shifted in his seat expecting to hear some more silly things. Some people liked to talk for a long time when he had to help his parishioners in other ways.
“I have slept with three men at the same time,” Lola said.
“In the same bed?” he asked.
“No father. I’ve seen the sergeant during the day, Homer in my room in the evenings while Fray Serapio hid under the bed.”
Father Ricardo knew Fray Serapio had been up to something. He would run up to anything wearing skirts in the street, even if it compromised his position as God’s representative on earth.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
“I don’t know, father.”
“You must pray,” he said.
Puttying her hands together, she uttered a prayer, hot tears scalding her cheeks and landing in her dress. She had to ask Father Ricardo a question, before the Lord took pity of a sinner like her.
“Has Homer had sex with the widows?” she asked.
Father Ricardo had to tell the truth whatever the consequences.
“He was sick,” he said. “The women helped him get better.”
Lola punched the wooden decorations on the edge of the confessionary. Homer didn’t need the widows to feed him when he had so much money in the world. Kicking one of the pews, she left an ugly mark in the surface.
“You’ll go straight to hell with that temper,” Father Ricardo said.
Lola had something else in her life. Her period had not come this month in spite of all the things she had done. She had jumped from a sofa and eaten hot potatoes with mustard but the blood had refused to stain her pants.
“I think I’m pregnant,” she said.
Father Ricardo jumped at the sound of her voice. The girl had done it this time.
“Is it Fray Serapio’s?” he asked.
Lola shook her head. The priest practiced coitus interrupts, even though he made a mess in the bed every time he slept with her.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
Lola cried. “I don’t know, father.”
Father Ricardo had to exorcise the bad spirits around her, but Lola wanted a termination.
“Don’t tell Homer,” she said.
“It’s our secret,” he said. “You have to pray now.”
Lola begged for Jesus Christ to solve her problems before the end of time, while Father Ricardo took confessions from other people.
“I want to abort this baby,” she muttered to herself.
She didn’t want to be a mother to Satan’s progeny and prayed to stop her anger.
“Jesus Christ,” she said. “I’ll be a nun if you help me.”
She remained in the church as thunder disturbed the peace of the world.
“It must be Armageddon,” someone said.
Lola sat in the pew, hoping the weather stopped punishing her for having bad thoughts. The sun shone in the park, and the sky appeared blue when she ventured outside later, even if God didn’t like her.
She didn’t want the stranger in her body to see the light of day as a few children playing in the pavement disturbed her concentration.
“Can I have a coin?” a voice said.
A little boy with freckles looked at her from the pavement. Lola thought she had seen him before, when her dreams had taken her to other lands inhabited by the creatures of nightmares.
“I’m in a hurry,” she said.
The sun had gone up the sky after the storm had dampened the city. As Lola moved along the street, he child followed her through the market. He must have thought she had some money.
“Go away,” she said.
Lola lost him amidst the people doing their shopping. He had to be a gamin living in the streets.
“Two and two are seven,” she heard someone saying.
Lola had to be going mad after all the problems she had in her life. On arriving home, she tore the numerous cards Homer had sent her and threw his pictures in the bin.
“I don’t want to see that man again,” she said.
Lola’s mother thought the girl’s rich boyfriend might take them away from poverty, while witnessing her rage through the house.
“You have done this before,” the woman said. “Can you remember the sergeant, the policeman and the young lawyer?”
Lola shook her head.
“Mother, Homer is evil.”
She dumped the piece of coconut he had given her after throwing his pictures in the bin. It wasn’t a present fit for a rich man. Then Lola jumped from the sofa onto the some of the mess on the floor.
“Are you pregnant?” her mother asked.
Lola nodded before dissolving in a flood of tears.
“The witch doctor will get rid of it,” the woman said.
She witnessed her daughter’s madness, as she jumped from the kitchen table after taking castor oil.
“One of your lovers might marry you,” she said.
Lola climbed up a ladder they had to get to the ceiling. She had to lose the foetus, before it caused more damage to her life.
“You’ll kill yourself,” the woman said.
Lola didn’t want to die because of Homer’s baby, even if she had look at the child’s face all her life. She phoned the sergeant, who commanded a battalion of bullies in the barracks.
“Can you meet me outside my job tomorrow?” She asked.
“You have your rich boyfriend,” he said.
“I’ve finished with him,” she said.
The sergeant appeared as she left her job next day, wearing his uniform, his medals shining under the sun.
“I have missed you,” he said.
As they moved down the street, Homer waited in a corner, looking smart in his best suit. He wanted to conquer the girl’s heart, after the disappointment of the previous day but then he saw the sergeant’s face full of hate.
“I don’t know you,” Homer said.
“You do now.”
The man left a purple mark on Homer’s cheek, damaging his ego. He had to safe himself from crazy people, who wanted his girlfriend.
“She’s mine,” Homer said.
“We’ll see,” the sergeant said.
He aimed for his nose this time, sending Homer into a land of darkness, surrounding him forever.


A hero’s farewell
It rained that night. Homer heard thunder rumbling through the world as the heavens spoke of Armageddon, and the tree of life shook under the wind. His nose had swollen and a few of his teeth had loosened, when the sun showed his face the next morning.
“A madman has attacked me,” Homer tod Miguel.
“Shall I call an ambulance?” Miguel asked.
Homer shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
He had wasted his money in silly things for a woman who didn’t care about him, a tragedy for the man who wanted to conquer the world.
“She might have been pregnant,” Miguel said.
Homer paused sipping the cup of tea his employee had brought him. The thought of having a baby when he wanted to have lots of money, made his blood boil but she should have told him something.
“He could have been called Homer,” Homer said.
“You’ll forget about it.”
“I won’t.”
Miguel put the newspaper he had just bought on the table, showing them the headlines: seven widows and their children had drowned in the slums.
“I didn’t know,” Miguel said.
“You can’t read.”
As Homer’s body trembled with the shock of the news, he tried to understand what had happened during the night amidst the rain and thunder. This tragedy meant the end of the world he had known since his childhood, where everyone loved and respected him. He could go to jail for his incompetence, as the widows and the Indians had only brought him pain.
“Everyone must have died,” Miguel said.
Homer remembered the woman bringing him love while the children played with the rats in the mud. They had to be alive. Tears ran down his cheeks, as he thought of them fighting for their lives amidst the river of death.
“I have to go away,” he said.
The world had been at war for a few years, it was called a war world and Homer’s old country had been invaded. He had made some money from the Indian heads, the widow’s pain and his boats, but could this invasion be another business? He had to try his luck in another place, as Amelia appeared in the shop. Homer had not noticed the child in the place with all the problems of the day.
“She’s obsessed with the army,” Miguel said.
She shouted: “One, two, one, two...”
Homer would have to earn his money somewhere else in the world, in order to forget the widows and the Indians.
“I’m going to New York,” he said.
Miguel shook his head. “I see.”
“I’ll leave you in charge of my business,” Homer said.
“What about Maria?”
“She doesn’t love me.”
Homer had to be tough, even though the girl had brought him happiness in his life.
“When will you come back?” Miguel asked.
“I don’t know.”
Homer promised to increase his wages, if he looked after the shop for the sake of his family.
“You’ll have my telephone number wherever I go,” Homer said. “Or you can wire me.”
Miguel kept the card his employer had given him, while Homer made arrangements to support the child born at the dawn of his life.
“Don’t go, Uncle Homer,” she said.
“I’ll look after you forever,” he said.
He had to leave the country where he had lived since his infancy.
“You must write to me,” Amelia said.
Homer nodded. “I’ll do that.”
He would remember that conversation in another time, lost in the predictions of a few people where everything ended in confusion.
“What will I tell everyone?” Miguel asked.
“I died.”


The voyage
Miguel and Amelia were miles away as Homer found the ship waiting for him in the port the next day. The city had been replaced by the sea, the horizon and the seagulls flying around as Cesar talked nonstop.
“Mr. Homer,” he said. “We were expecting you.”
Leading him through the corridors, he gave orders to anyone on sight while touching his balls, wet with the excitement.
“We have all the home comforts,” Cesar said.
“That is excellent.”
“Thank you.”
Homer thought of the papers talking of his disappearance as everyone cried for the widows, who had to be in heaven at that moment.
“Two and two are seven,” he muttered to himself.
Cesar shrugged. “I know.”
“Do you?”
Homer stood on the deck, reflecting about the tragedy and of the new life waiting for him in another world. He had to feel his scrotum now.
“I don’t feel well,” he said.
Cesar had to help him down the stairs to his room by the pool, where the world of the ship disappeared amidst his dreams. He had loved the widows, touched their breasts and played with their children for the love of God, living in heaven. Then he heard footsteps, coming out of the darkness.
“I’m the doctor,” a tall man had appeared at the door.
Homer adjusted his eyes to the light coming through the window, as the man took his pulse after listening to his chest.
“Will I die?” he asked.
“Don’t worry.”
The doctor wanted to know if Homer could sit up in his bed but his head hurt too much to do anything at all. He couldn’t understand all the fuss when he had gone to bed only a few moments ago but Cesar had other ideas.
“I will find a girl,” he said.
The doctor nodded. “It’s a good idea.”
Homer wondered about the connection between his illness and his sex life, as the doctor left a few tablets on the table.
“I’ll come back,” he said.
On going to sleep, Homer felt the floor shaking forever while his stomach hurt. He had to be in hell or something else like that. Unable to understand his suffering at the hands of the sea, he dreamed of his country and the new land he had never seen, except in his imagination.
“I have a girl,” Cesar interrupted his dreams.
Homer saw someone of the opposite sex sitting by his side.
“Hi,” she said.
“Who are you?”
She looked under his blankets, the movements of the boats bringing a new wave of nausea to his senses. Then she sucked his member like a wolf, sending him to heaven amidst his illness.
“Yes,” he said.
“She knows what to do,” Cesar said.
The little man didn’t miss anything aboard the ship he commanded.
“Do it faster,” Homer said.
“Mmmm,” she said.
“Yes,” Cesar said.
Fastening her mouth around his member, she swallowed all the sperm coming her way as Cesar applauded, thunder roaring outside the window.
“God likes it,” Cesar said.
“I’m dying,” Homer said.
“Where is my money?” she asked.
Homer went back to sleep, the girl fading into infinity like everything else in his life. She visited him a few more times, when she played with his member until he ejaculated in her mouth.
“We have arrived at New York,” Cesar said one day.
Too busy with his illness, Homer had not seen the little man coming into the room. On looking out of the window, he saw the buildings rising to the sky behind a tall woman with a torch in her hand. He had to honour his parent’s memory in that other land of his imagination.
“Everyone will remember this moment in history,” Homer said.
“That’s the statue of liberty,” Cesar said.
Homer saw it beckoning him to another life, where he might conquer the universe. He felt like Christopher Columbus arriving at a new world, even if the widows had died in the middle of the night.
“Where is the girl?” he asked.
“You must be mad,” Cesar said.
“She touched my balls.”
“I saw no one,” Cesar said.
“Liar.”
Homer looked at his image in the mirror, while thinking of that mouth giving him pleasure amidst his dreams.
“I want her,” he said.
“It’s Armageddon,” Cesar said.


New York
The ship stopped moving and people went down the steps towards the waiting officials. Homer didn’t have anything to declare as none of his belongings cost more than one dollar.
“I hope you have a nice time,” Cesar said
“I will,” Homer said.
He moved with his case towards the immigration officer, asking questions to everyone around him.
“What’s your purpose of your trip to the USA?” he asked Homer in broken Spanish.
Homer showed him the letter his uncle had sent him, and a bank statement with the money he had made during the years. They had to welcome the rich businessman, bringing dollars to the country.
“I wish you a nice time here, Mr. Homer,” the man said.
As Homer moved amongst the crowd, looking for Uncle Hugh, a middle aged man with a moustache hugged him.
“I thought you were taller,” Homer said.
Uncle Hugh smiled. “I must have shrunk during the years.”
Homer pushed his suitcase towards a coffee shop, where they sat at a table overlooking a street full of people.
“How was your trip?” Uncle Hugh asked.
“I was sick all the time.”
“I hate ships,” Uncle Hugh said.
The waitress appeared with two coffees and a few cakes. Homer ate a roll full of cream while Uncle Hugh talked about many things.
“Do you keep my coin?” he asked.
On opening his wallet, Homer showed him the shinny cent he kept amidst his loose change and other things in his pocket. He had managed to keep it throughout his life.
“It brings me good luck,” he said.
Homer remembered his invisible friend and the tree of life in the garden of his childhood while looking at his uncle.
“You’ll have to free our country with your tanks,” Uncle Hugh said.
Homer felt happy for the first time since embarking in that ship, as he imagined making a fortune with the warriors of the world.
“I’ll put my fleet to the service of my country,” he said.
“You’re a patriot,” Uncle Hugh said. “You offer your life for your land.”
Homer didn’t like people misunderstanding his intentions, as Uncle Hugh ordered a bottle of champagne to celebrate his arrival.
“To the end of the war,” he said.
Homer nodded. “To us.”
He looked at the other customers while sipping his drink. This was a country of opportunities and good for his plans. They left the coffee shop while the sun set on the tall buildings and the stars appeared in an autumn sky. As Homer barked, his uncle looked at him.
“Are you OK?” he asked.
Homer smiled. “I couldn’t be better.”
They saw lovers hiding beneath the bushes, whilst children played football in an enchanted universe.
“Your mother used to cook a nice chicken,” Uncle Hugh interrupted his reverie.
Homer nodded. “I know.”
He had been a lonely boy the last time he had seen his uncle, as he dreamt of invisible friends dancing by the treed.
“Two and two are seven,” he said.
Uncle Hugh smiled. “I’ve heard that before.”
Dark clouds gathered in the sky in order to start the worst storm humanity had ever seen...


Another day
As Homer dozed in Uncle Hugh’s room that evening, he heard the traffic in the city that never slept. It had streets paved with fools, who should give him gold. The sun sneaked through the curtains the next day, when he heard footsteps along the corridor.
“Good morning,” Uncle Hugh said.
He put a tray with some coffee, bread and other things to calm his hunger on the bedside table.
“How did you sleep?” his uncle asked.
“Like an angel,” Homer said.
Uncle Hugh switched on the radio as the presenter spoke of the war in Europe. Homer had to help his motherland punished by Hitler’s troops on the other side of the continent.
“We’ll go to see Maria,” Uncle Hugh interrupted his thoughts.
Homer frowned. “Maria?”
“We meet in her house,” Uncle Hugh said.
Homer remembered that other Maria, missing his shop and everything else from his previous life.
“Our people die in the concentration camps,” Uncle Hugh said.
“That’s terrible,” Homer said.
“We must do something about it.”
Homer had to defeat Hitler’s reign of misery with the cash he had saved after years of working hard in the shop. On opening his suitcase, he found the clothes he had brought from the market.
“You must wear a coat,” Uncle Hugh said.
Homer shrugged. “I know.”
After putting his best shirt on, Homer looked at his reflection in the mirror. He had to convince New York of his dreams for a better world amidst the chaos of war. Turning around a few times, he tried his best smile, his green eyes sparkling under the light.
“I love you,” he muttered to himself.
“Let’s go,” Uncle Hugh said.
They emerged in the street full of people, who didn’t care about the war in Europe as women held their children’s hands and men looked tough.
“They have shops bigger than El Baratillo,” Uncle Hugh said.
“I want to see them,” Homer said.
“We’ll go there another day.”
Homer remembered his shop in Miguel’s hands, where Maria’s teats had given him pleasure, the chasm between her legs a black hole in the universe.
“They want to meet you,” Uncle Hugh said.
“That’s nice,” Homer said.
Homer imagined selling his merchandise on easy terms and without any interest to the people he found in the streets. They might want to buy his clothes or try his coca.
“Two and two are seven,” he muttered to himself.
“I thought so.”
A woman with black hair and a round face greeted them on the tenth floor of a building with a nice garden and graffiti on the walls.
“This is Homer,” Uncle Hugh said.
The woman smiled. “I’ve heard lots about you.”
Her dark eyes studied all his movements, while leading them into a flat full of flowers and noise. A few people sat around a table, looking sombre in sharp contrast to their surroundings.
“This is Homer,” Maria said.
“Hi,” they said.
Homer sat down as everyone talked at the same time but Maria restored the order.
“Homer has something to tell us,” she said.
Homer realised his importance, while everyone looked at him from across the room
“I’ll use my ships to defeat the intruders,” he said.
“You’re our hero,” they said.
On listening to their stories of bravado during the war in Europe, he found these people endearing.
“I escaped from the Nazis,” a man said.
He had dug a tunnel under a prison in a concentration camp, where hundreds of people died every day under Hitler’s orders.
“They gassed us in the bathroom,” he said.
“It must have been terrible,” Homer said.
“These are the pictures,” he said.
Someone had taken a camera inside one of the prisons where a few skeletal people looked ill, the guards standing by their side.
“This is me,” the man said.
Homer saw a thin man and a few other victims of the Nazis.
“I dug the tunnel to freedom with spoons and forks.”
“You are tough,” Homer said.
“Long live Homer,” everyone said.
They made a collection to help his plans, the fire of freedom burning throughout that part of New York, while Homer heard the notes dropping in the basket
“This is to help the war effort,” Maria said.
“Thank you,” he said.
He tasted the spices she had eaten for lunch while touching her breasts, full of freedom and love for her country. She didn’t object when he looked at her teats, hiding under her blouse.
“That’s nice,” he said.
Homer lifted her skirt under the tablecloth, where her vagina waited for his caresses. As he tickled her clitoris, she ejaculated amidst the voices of their country men and women discussing the gift of freedom in the world. He had managed the impossible.
“You’ll have your money,” she interrupted his daydream.
“I know.”
He would help his country, while she gave him pleasure. After wiping his hands with a serviette, he accepted all the money they had collected in the name of freedom.
“I promise to put my boats at your service,” he said.
“Hurrah to Homer,” they said.
They toasted to the hero, as snow blanketed the world outside the windows and New York welcomed him in style.


Homer’s invisible friend
Homer had to help the war in Europe, and instead of dying in New York he would do it at the bottom of the sea, the USA government giving him free arms in order to liberate the world.
“I haven’t forgotten you,” Homer told Miguel in one of the first transatlantic phone calls of the century.
Miguel sighed. “Thank you, Mr. Homer.”
Amelia cried, while talking to Homer on the phone. The child wanted to fight for her country one day, even though her dad opposed her feelings for the army.
“You’ll come to visit me one day,” he said.
“I’ll do that, Uncle Homer.”
Miguel’s family had helped him after his parent’s death and before he conquered the world. After promising a few more things, Homer put the phone down as Uncle Hugh appeared at the door.
“Maria has sent you something,” he said.
“Maria?”
“The girl you kissed last night.”
He gave Homer a check for a few thousand dollars, donated by his country men and women to defeat the enemy.
“Thank you,” Homer said.
“You must thank her.”
“I’ll do it later.”
Homer’s money had multiplied in his account since his arrival at New York, whilst the world waited for its freedom. Foreigner wants to help his country, it said in big letters across the paper his uncle had bought that morning. No one talked about the widows or anything else in his life.
“I hope to defeat fascism,” Homer said.
Uncle Hugh nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
Homer thought of his ships bringing him lots of money by fighting Hitler’s troops. Then he found the papers Jose had left on the floor, hoping to sell them in foreign lands.
“They belonged to my invisible friend,” Homer said.
Uncle Hugh had a look at the strange language through the pages full of nonsense.
“People are not invisible,” he said.
“Is it in the papers?”
Homer remembered the day Lola’s mother had spoken of his future amidst the candles and the thunder of hell.
“It’s written somewhere,” he said.
Shutting his suitcase, he got ready to bring peace to the world while the manuscripts waited for someone else to decipher them. Then he read the letter the American government had sent him in order for his ships to bring peace to the world.
“You have a duty to defend your land,” Homer read. “By fighting for the freedom of your country.”
They also offered an amount of money for his services to the country in times of war.
“They are paying you a few million dollars,” Uncle Hugh said.
“I know.”
“Aren’t you lucky?”
Homer liked the offer, even if he would have to go to Europe, where Hitler waited for him with open arms but he had no other choice. He might get more money by faking his death as a martyr.


Homer sails away
Odysseus would be the first ship to leave the port and surrounded by absolute secrecy. Homer wore an artificial moustache, while the sailors brought machine guns, bombs that looked like corn on the hob and munitions disguised as chocolates. Canons pretending to be canoes as a few tanks camouflaged as ambulances joined the rest of the things to punish Hitler’s men somewhere in Europe.
“Give my regards to our people,” Uncle Hugh said.
Homer nodded. “I will do that.”
Uncle Hugh handed him a letter.
“You must give it to our president,” he said.
Homer leafed through the pages written in his uncle’s fine words to the first man in his country. A crowd had gathered to see the ships depart to their mission, as Homer hugged his uncle for the last time.
“We must fight for democracy,” Uncle Hugh said.
Homer nodded. “I’ll do that.”
A girl appeared with a bunch of flowers, her silhouette visible through her dress. Kissing Homer’s cheek, she handed him the roses she had bought in her way to the docks
“I wish you a good journey, Mr. Homer,” she said in Spanish.
“Thank you,” he said.
Kissing him, she left the aroma of her hair on his clothes, her teats trembling under her bra.
“Come with me,” he said.
“I can’t,” she said.
Then he kissed her, his hands straying along her body as she caressed his face and the photographers took pictures of the farewell. He muttered a few things in her ear, while feeling her teats in the flatness of her chest.
“You are a boy,” he said.
“Hurrah to our country,” she said.
Holding the flowers, he went up the steps of one of the ship while the public sang the national anthem of his country. He wanted to conquer the world like his parents had done before time, as Cesar appeared by his side holding a glass of Alka seltzer.
“I didn’t forget your sea sickness,” he said.
“You are a genius,” Homer said.
It refreshed his insides before the journey started, the sound of the cannons interrupting his concentration while the statue of liberty bid them farewell. Holding the rails, Homer tried to ignore the motion of the ship in spite of the medicine Cesar had given him.
“I’ll take you to your room,” he said.
They made their way to the lower deck, where some of the sailors checked the boxes of the ammunition to liberate a country.
“Hi Mr. Homer,” they said.
Homer held the walls in order to keep his balance amidst the nausea invading his senses. Cesar helped him along a corridor flanked by rooms on either side
“This is your cabin,” he said, pushing Homer inside one of the rooms, where a bed waited for him in a corner amidst the white walls.
“I’ll look after the ship,” he said.
“I want to chew some coca,” Homer said.
“I don’t have any of it here.”
Homer had to rest from the spirits of the deep, even though he had just started his journey. He went to sleep, his soul floating through the ether in his way to heaven, where Kam had fun amidst the hammock. As a hand shook him awake, Homer opened his eyes to the light of another day and a plump man by Cesar’s side.
“Why are we going south? He asked. “Europe is to the east.”
Homer didn’t want to go to Europe, where they might sink his expensive boats.
“We are helping the war effort,” he said.
“Is it in Latin America?”
Homer smiled. “Those countries are part of our mission.”
“I see,” the sailor said.
“Europe is dangerous,” Homer said.
Homer tried to go back to Kam, before she left the hammock. He had to do business with the world in the name of freedom, the clock moving towards the end.


Salvacion
“Land,” someone said.
As Homer looked out of his porthole, he saw trees in the distance. It had to be one of those islands in the Caribbean Sea as a fleet of boats approached them.
“Are they pirates?” Homer asked.
Cesar put the cards on the table.
“We don’t have pirates in Salvacion,” he said. “Welcome to my country, Mr. Homer.”
“I hope they buy my tanks,” Homer said.
“They will.”
As Homer got ready to disembark beyond the waves, he hoped to do a good business with a country far from the war in Europe.
“Are you ready?” Cesar asked.
Homer blinked on seeing the sun, while the band played by the pool and a man dressed in a smart uniform smoked a cigar. He smiled before pushing his glasses up his nose.
“This is the president,” Cesar said.
Homer shook hands with the stranger, who talked all the time.
“I’m glad to meet you, Excellency,” he said.
The president nodded. “I have seen your pictures in the papers.”
The band played the national hymn as the president led him to a table full of papers, where a few pretty senoritas waited.
“We welcome you to my country, Mr. Homer,” The president said.
“Thank you, Excellency,” Homer said. “I have canons, airplanes and guns.”
“Are they good?”
“You must see them, Excellency.”
After a few moments, the tanks drove towards the ramp, the soldiers pushing the machine guns along the deck.
“Everything is cheap,” Homer said.
“God bless Mr. Roosevelt,” the president said.
“Your neighbours have to be taught a lesson.”
The president puffed his cigar, looking for any imperfections in the armour.
“Atenagoras,” he called.
A small man wearing sailor clothes and a blue hat appeared by his side.
“Can you bring me my check book?” he asked.
Atenagoras disappeared through one of the doors, while the sailors brought more tanks for the president to see.
“We lost a few islands last year,” he said.
“You mustn’t worry this time, Excellency,” Homer said.
“I thought so.”
Atenagoras appeared with the cheque book and some glasses of wine in a tray a few moments later.
“It is two million dollars Excellency,” Homer said.
The president hesitated before writing down such a large sum but his country would thank him for his efforts, while the band played a salsa.
“Salvacion will be fine now,” Homer said.
“The best country in the world,” the president said.
A sailor poured champagne in their glasses, as everyone cheered.
“Hurrah to the president,” they said.
They toasted to the armaments the president had bought, the senoritas enlivening the moment with their charms.
“We have the best women in the world,” the president said.
“I believe you, Excellency.”
“Let’s drink to that,” the president said.
“That’s a good idea.”
The band played a salsa as a pretty girl stood by their side, her black hair falling down her breasts, while looking at Homer through long lashes.
“You are beautiful,” he said. “Would you like to dance?”
“Yes,” she said.
Homer practiced the dance steps Maria had taught him in the shop, the music turning him on.
“You dance well,” she said.
“Do you want to fuck?” he asked.
“I’m a virgin.”
“I’ve heard that excuse many times.”
He caressed her breasts, while feeling her body with trembling fingers.
“I’ll marry you,” he said.
“You are funny.”
As the music echoed around them, his hands searched for her cunt, hiding amidst her pants.
“Shall we go to my cabin?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“I’ll pay you well.”
She touched his cock as the skies erupted and the world dissolved in rain. Then he entered her slowly, savouring every moment, while sending millions of sperm towards her ovum.
“You must marry me,” she said.
“I have a wife,” he said.
“Is she in new York?”
“No.”
He went to sleep by her side, the music of the party bringing him nice dreams but she had gone when he awoke in the morning. Homer didn’t know if she had existed or his imagination had played tricks on that night of pleasure.
After leaving Salvacion, the ship sailed through the Caribbean Sea with a few tanks, some armaments and Atenagoras, who wanted to help the world. Homer had to rest before doing more business in the sea.
“I’m going to bed,” he said.
“You haven’t greeted the crew yet,” Cesar said.
“I’ll do that later.”
Cesar followed him to his cabin beneath the deck. After lying down in his bunk, Homer shut his eyes to a world full of misery.
“I’m thirsty,” he said.
As Cesar brought him a glass of water, Homer took more medicine for his sea sickness making his life impossible.
“Sailors used to eat salty meat and hard biscuits a long time ago,” Cesar said.
Homer imagined those times, when they didn’t have a cooling box to keep the food fresh in their journeys across the sea.
“Captain Morgan hid a treasure in the Caribbean Sea,” Cesar said.
“Has anyone found it?” Homer asked.
“No.”
On falling asleep, Homer dreamed of Morgan’s gold in the sea as Maria sucked his cock forever. The pirate’s pain on losing his treasure followed him throughout his illness, when Cesar played with the cards and the days went past each other like beads in a string.
“We’re near an island,” Cesar’s voice interrupted his dreams one day.
On opening his eyes, Homer heard the sound of music coming out of the loudspeakers. The crew must have organised a party to enliven their journey through the sea.
“I played cards for you,” Cesar said.
“Thank you.”
Then Cesar talked about silly things. The sky would darken as the sound of thunder echoed during the last days of humankind.
“I have heard that before,” Homer said.
“You might forget.”
“I don’t think so.”
Cesar put the cards by his side while the rays of the sun filtered through the curtains.
“I’ve won,” he said.
Homer shrugged. “I haven’t played.”
“You had the bad cards.”
Then Homer saw a row of palm trees in the distance. It had to be another island lost in the Caribbean.
“We must disembark,” Cesar said.
On seating up in his bed, Homer felt giddy but he had to convince another political leader of the goodness of his arms.
“The world needs me,” he said.


Finish with Salvacion
They arrived at a bigger and more powerful South American country, when another president signed a cheque for a few thousand dollars.
“I’ll bring you more arms, Excellency,” Homer said.
The man smiled, showing him a row of golden teeth. “Thank you.”
Atenagoras poured some champagne into their glasses, the froth rising to the rim.
“To my country,” the president said.
Homer raised his glass. “I hope you attack Salvacion.”
“Our enemies want to kill us,” the president said.
“You must finish with them first, Excellency.”
As the orchestra played a ranchera, the president talked of the security of his land, when they had never done anything to the world. Salvacion had bombed their cities, killing lots of the citizens in their raids and leaving the lots of corpses in the streets. Then he opened a bottle of wine, saying bad things about Salvacion.
“They must be eliminated,” the president said.
“I agree, Excellency,” Homer said.
The president talked of his plans to wipe off the island of Salvacion. He had to end with the bad countries in the region. The war had gone on for a long time, Salvacion killing life and civilisation in the area
“I need more planes, canons and bombs,” he said.
“That will teach Salvacion,” Homer said.
“You are right.”
The president wrote down everything he wanted to buy as one of the girls with black hair and a small waist touched Homer’s body.
“She wants you,” the president said.
Homer stroked her breasts, paying attention to the area around her teats.
“I’ll kill my enemies,” the president said.
“You must do it.”
“They can’t annoy me anymore.”
Homer’s hands strayed to her legs and up her pants.
“You tickle me,” she said.
Cesar opened a bottle of aguardiente, the aroma of alcohol spreading around the place. The president finished with his list, while the girl sat on Homer’s lap, making him hot with her caresses.
“To our health,” the president said.
“I want your child,” the girl said.
“My wife won’t approve,” Homer said.
They drank a few bottles of aguardiente, the girl massaging Homer’s balls under the table, as the president talked of his army finishing with Salvacion.
“Let’s drink to that,” the president said.
“Do it faster,” Homer said.
As the president went to sleep on the table, Homer led the girl to one of the cabins by the pool. At first she seemed shy but then she complied with everything.
“I am a virgin,” she said.
Homer’s cock went through her hymen, the blood soaking the sheets and she moaned with pleasure.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Ahhh,” she said.
They rested in each other’s arms, as the world needed arms to fight Hitler’s men. He liked this island with its beautiful women taking the sun in the beaches under the threat of Salvacion.
“I will come back t one day,” he said.
“When?”
The sound of thunder interrupted the conversation as Atenagoras appeared at the door.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you,” he said. “One of your boats has sunk.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A German submarine found it in the Mediterranean Sea,” Atenagoras said.
Sitting on his bed, Homer thought of the consequences such a tragedy might have. He had to act fast, even if the girl caressed his body.
“Send a message to New York,” he said. “Tell them I was in another ship.”
Atenagoras shook his head. “You were the captain, sir.”
“I missed the ship then.”
“They saw you inside it.”
Homer touched the girl’s cunt, thinking of his dilemma: he had been a patriot, trying to rid the world of Hitler.
“I have died in the Mediterranean Sea,” he said.
“Are you dead, sir?” Atenagoras asked.
“I’m dead now but medical science performs miracles.”
Homer collected a few clothes from the wardrobe in his hurry to get away while she touched his bum.
“I’m leaving you in charge of the ship,” Homer said.
“What do I tell your uncle?”
“I’ll deal with him later.”
Looking at his image in the mirror, Homer saw a tired man who had to save the world.
“What do I do with her?” Atenagoras asked.
Homer had forgotten all about the nymph he had raped in his bed the night before. A woman would complicate everything.
“Take her back to her country,” he said.
“I love you,” she said.
Then she made Homer forget about the war, and the ship by playing with his thing, Atenagoras helping him to put his clothes on under the girl’s anger.
“You have to pay me,” she said.
“Mmm,” Homer said.


Homer’s lost
Homer’s name was in everybody’s lips the next morning as a boat left him in an island off the Nicaraguan coast. Holding his suitcase, he made his way to the nearest newsagent where he read the news in the newspapers: No one had survived the tragedy. He had to do something before the world found his deceit.
“Where is the airport?” he asked the woman behind the counter.
“You must go to the end of the road,” she said.
Looking at the spot where she pointed, he thought it had to be a long road. Homer sang the songs his mother had told him in order to forget his problems, while moving down the street, the wind bringing him some respite from the heat. A few cows ate their grass, looking at him with dark eyes, their lives a mixture of grass, hay and other things to calm their appetites.
I should have never left my shop, Homer thought, kicking the pebbles in his way. Then he saw the planes waiting to leave in a dusty runaway and by a small terminal where a few people waited with their suitcases baking in the heat. After opening the door, he found himself amidst the people he had seen through the windows, a girl behind the counter looking at her nails.
“I need a plane,” he said.
She looked at him, before painting her nails. Homer didn’t seem to be a rich man or she didn’t read the papers.
“It will cost you money,” she said.
“Are you a virgin?” he asked.
“You are funny.”
Homer kissed her behind the counter before feeling her bra under her blouse.
“You must be quick,” she said.
He couldn’t believe his luck, while entering her and the papers fell on the floor. She scratched his back amidst her orgasm, disturbing the small office in the middle of nowhere. As Homer arranged his clothes, she muttered a few things about the police.
“You’ve raped me,” she said.
“Prove it.”
A middle-aged man with a large stomach appeared from another room, interrupting the argument.
“I have to fly to the Mediterranean Sea,” Homer said.
“They’re having a war out there,” the man said.
Homer took a wallet out of his pocket.
“I want a small boat,” he said. “Then you’ll contact a ship to rescue me on the third day.”
“That will cost you lots of money.”
“I’ll give you a few thousand dollars.”
The man disappeared inside his office while the girl looked at Homer.
“My virginity has no price,” she said.
Homer gave her a few hundred dollars, his adventure to Europe costing him lots of money but she grabbed his trousers.
“I can suck it,|” she said.
“Your boss might not like it.”
The pilot came back clutching a few papers while talking in his radio.
“I’ll take you to the Balearic Islands,” he said. “Someone else will leave you in the Mediterranean sea.”
They had to leave now, even if Homer had not eaten his breakfast.
“I have food in my plane,” the pilot said.
He led Homer towards the rear of the building, where he tripped on some of the equipment on the floor, scratching his legs. He should have had more fun with the girl if the pilot had taken his time.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked.
“I like adventure,” Homer said.
He saw a small plane waiting under the sun. On admiring the wings, waiting to take him to foreign lands, Homer felt giddy. He wanted to live for some more time as airplanes could be dangerous.
“It’s safe,” the pilot said.
“I don’t know.”
On stepping inside the plane, Homer noticed all the buttons the pilot would have to press in order to get them to their destination but he wanted to go to sleep during their journey.
“I have something for you,” the pilot said.
He showed him a bottle of aguardiente, the solution to Homer’s problems and his fear of flying. Sitting in a seat by the door, he adjusted his seat belt to keep him safe in his place as the pilot poured some of the alcohol in a tumbler.
“To our health,” he said.
Homer drank the aguardiente, savouring every gulp of it until falling unconscious in his seat, the noise of the plane blocking the pain of the world.
“Time doesn’t exist here,” a voice said.
He saw Kam sitting by his side, wearing nothing and smelling of sex.
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“You will one day.”
Homer had sex with her amidst his dreams of space, far from his problems. He woke up briefly to find another bottle of aguardiente waiting by his side.
“Are we there?” he asked.
“No.”
He had to drown his fear of flying while the alcohol burned his stomach. It must have anesthetized him because Kam massaged his cock amidst the noise of the rotors, sending him to other worlds lost in time.
“Do it faster,” Homer said.
“You only think of sex.”
“That’s my illness.”
“I know that.”
Thunder drowned his words, everything finishing in a few moments of fear mixed in with the ecstasy...


Homer’s lost
“Welcome to Ibiza,” the pilot said.
Homer opened his eyes to the light of the day and his hangover.
“We didn’t fall in the sea,” he said.
“You are lucky,” the pilot said.
They had arrived at a place filled with palm trees and sun. As the runaway appeared by the beach, Homer admired the vegetation amidst the remains of a building.
“That is the airport,” the pilot said.
The plane touched the tarmac, scattering a few pebbles around while scaring the birds. Then they stopped by the building, as a few people looked at them from the windows and a man waited for the motors to stop. Homer wished he had not drunk so much aguardiente, while staggering down from the plane, the hot tarmac burning his soul.
“I’m the intermediary,” someone interrupted his thoughts.
A small man with a beard and odd clothes came out of the shadows, waving his arms in the air. With a long nose in a thin face that never stopped smiling, he had to be mad like everything else around him.
“You have an unusual name,” Homer said.
The man shrugged. “This is a war.”
The intermediary chattered about many things while taking them throughout the airport and a few passengers waiting to board the planes looked at them with interest.
“I hate fascists,” the intermediary said.
Hitler’s picture looked at them from the newspapers, a bad omen for Homer’s sea quest.
“You want to get lost,” the intermediary interrupted his thoughts.
Homer nodded. “I’ll give you lots of money.”
The intermediary paused by an entrance, where they could see the sea shining under the rays of the sun as a few boats floated in the water.
“How much?” he asked.
After searching in his pockets, Homer gave him a few wads of dollars, hoping to recover the money he had wasted in his adventure.
“We’ll leave you a few miles away from the coast,” the intermediary said.
Homer didn’t like to be alone in the sea.
“What about if a German submarine finds me?” he asked.
“They won’t,” the Intermediary said.
Homer had tins of coke, bars of chocolate, caviar, biscuits, bottled water, an umbrella for the bad weather and a few flares to pass the time. The thought of being a hero helped him to overcome his fear, as the sky clouded and thunder echoed around him. It had to be the beginning of the end.
“I’ll be bored,” he said.
“You have the Financial Times,” the intermediary said.
He gave Homer a newspaper with yellow pages and a few pictures, informing him of the state of the world.
“Thank you” Homer said.
“I think of everything.”
Homer had offered his life for his country on a night when evil had conspired against him. On moving towards the beach, he noticed the crabs running amongst the waves, as the seagulls flew in a clear sky, interrupted by a few wisps of clouds.
“We’ll take care of you,” the intermediary said.
“Thank you.”
A boat waited by a cove where a few men lowered everything he would need during the next few hours.
“It’s small,” Homer said.
The intermediary smiled. “A bigger boat will leave you in the sea.”
They sailed for some time amidst the waves before lowering the small boat into the sea, everyone helping with the provisions for Homer’s journey. The umbrella waited amongst the bottles of aguardiente, coca leaves, the tins of sardines and other commodities of the modern world in order to make him more comfortable during his trip.
“We must leave you now,” the intermediary said.
Homer got on the boat, keeping his balance before sitting down with all his equipment by his side. He felt positive about his adventure, thinking of the money the world might offer him for his suffering in Hitler’s hands.
“We’ll be nearby,” the intermediary said.
As they told him what to do if he had any problems, Homer imagined the headlines in the papers the next day, exalting his bravery in the face of adversity. Then the intermediary gave him the flares to use if he had any problems during the short time he would be on his own in the sea.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Homer said.
They left him a few moments later, promising to come back with the press. It had to be the biggest adventure of the century, even if Hitler kept on taking countries in Europe. After they left him alone, Homer spent the first hour reading the Financial Times under the umbrella the intermediary had left. The fighting in Europe had sent waves of fear everywhere, making the financial markets slump in the mist of the recession.
“Two and two are seven,” he muttered to himself.
Homer had to enjoy life amidst the sea, the thought of the money coming to his pockets, kept him alive during his ordeal. Then he opened a tin of sardines, watering them down with a bottle of coca- cola from his bag, while pondering what to say to the press. The bomb had killed everyone in the ship but God must have loved him.
“I’m a genius,” he told himself.
Pouring some scotch in his glass, Homer looked at an atlas of the world he had bought in his adventure as it started to rain. The umbrella kept him dry but some of his food got spoiled every time a wave came towards the boat. It must be the end of the world, he thought as the sun hid beneath the clouds.
Homer had to be in the route to another Latin American country, while Cesar played with his cards and another president waited for his arms. Then he noticed a man smiling at him amidst the waves.
“No one can walk on water,” Homer said to himself.
The roar of the sea answered his concerns for his sanity, when the man looked like Jesus Christ in one of those paintings father Ricardo had in the church by the market in another life.
“Go away,” Homer said.
He had to be strong in the face of the hallucinations caused by his hangover. As a shark appeared, Homer hit it with his oar but then a barracuda came to his aid. Homer made the fish go back to the depths of the sea after hitting them on the head and time went on forever. Jesus Christ had deserted him once more amidst the dangers of his imagination.
“I am thirsty,” Homer said.
Those words held no meaning in a place full of salty water, as he remembered the aguardiente under his seat. After drinking some of it, the stars guided his vessel in space until the rays of the sun brought him back to reality. Then out of the water emerged a U225 submarine, commanded by Lieutenant Fritz Wise.
“Help me,” Homer said.
“Are you a friend or foe?” the Lieutenant asked.
“I don’t know.”
He gave Homer some salted fish for his hunger after doing the Nazi salute. The mirage made him float in a sea of chit as his stomach rumbled and a light shone in front of his face. A voice said: “Homer, my son.”
“Who is calling me?” Homer asked.
“It’s your father who lives in heaven.”
After a moment of silence even the sea went quiet.
“Heavens and earth will end but my words will go on,” the voice said.
An angel brought him an amphora full of coca cola, the best drink in the world. The sea became a skating ring as Jesus Christ danced with Maria Magdalene and the Virgin with Saint Joseph, the waves fighting with each other to get custody of his body. The other Homer had to rescue him from hell instead of fighting in Olympus for a girl called Helen.
Night came over the world, the sea turning into a black hole of death and desperation for a lost soul in the way to hell. Homer ignored the lights shining around him, mirages of another world he didn’t understand when he needed to go home. Fumbling inside the bag he had brought in his adventure, he found the flares the intermediary had given him. The sailors had taught him how to send up the flares when he had been in the Caribbean Sea, as he ignited one of the things with his lighter and the sky exploded in a multitude of colours.
“It must be Armageddon,” Homer said.
After spending most of the night throwing water out of the boat with a bucket he had found under his seat, he had gone to sleep with his head on the bucket by the morning.
“I don’t want to die,” he said in his dreams.
Then his soul left his body in a moment of madness, when he saw himself from the air, the tree of life appearing by his side.
“There are no trees in the sea,” he said.
Homer saw his backyard amidst the waves, Kam showing him her teats tanned by the sea.
“You must drink this,” she offered him a glass of sea water, rich in nutrients and salt.
“You won’t die,” she said.
“Liar.”
The girl wanted to avenge the death of her friends in the jungle as Homer hated the taste of sea water.
“Help me,” he said.
A boat appeared from beyond the abyss of time. At first it seemed to be empty but then a few men looked at him while saying something, reality becoming entangled with his dreams.


Rescue
As a man appeared by his side, Homer told the hallucination to go away.
“I’m the intermediary,” he said.
Homer kicked and punched him, while a few men transferred him to another boat.
“We want to help you,” they said.
The intermediary injected something in his arm, shadows sending him to the abyss of hell, where ghosts chased him through the waves until everything ended in tragedy.
“Mr. Homer,” a voice said.
On opening his eyes, he found himself inside a cabin, the intermediary sitting by his side.
“We thought you had died,” he said.
The intermediary offered him a spoon full of medicine for whatever illness he had caught in the sea, while Homer struggled to talk.
“It’s good for you,” he said.
Homer needed his speech to sell his merchandise and hated the Intermediary. Then a beautiful girl with big brown eyes and a short skirt, appeared at the door.
“Are you Homer?” she asked.
“Mmmm,” Homer said.
After sitting by his side, she held his hands, her essence enveloping his soul like a very expensive perfume.
“I have heard all about you,” she said.
Homer found his voice amidst his erection.
“You must be a princess,” he said.
“Oh, no,” she said.
“Take me to your king.”
She smiled. “I’ll do that.”
She muttered words of encouragement while rubbing his chest, letting him glimpse part of her breasts where nature had made her beautiful. The letter F embroidered in her blouse, welcomed him to explore her nipples amidst the luxuries of her body.
“My name is Fifi,” she interrupted his thoughts.
Homer had never met a Fifi in his life, even if the name fit the beautiful woman by his side.
“Everyone knows you didn’t die,” she said.
“Who is everyone?”
“The world.”
“That’s good,” Homer said.
On remembering his soldiers at the mercy of the bombs, his eyes clouded, tears threatening to run down like a river. It had been a terrible time, when he had lost his men amidst scenes of panic. Then he studied her teats through her dress.
“Why they didn’t use the boats?” she asked.
“They were on fire.”
“My God.”
He kissed her hands, his lips getting up her arms where her breasts waited for his caresses.
“I love you,” he muttered.
“We have just met.”
He felt her body, the rays of the sun fighting with each other to reach her heart in a wonderful moment.
“I remember my men shouting amidst the noise,” he said.
“You are a hero.”
Homer sucked her teats, as she ran her hands through his face and his body wanted more of her.
“You must get better first,” she said.
He cried in her arms, the roaring waves reminding him of the tragedy lost in the confines of his mind. Fifi let him go between her legs, moans of pleasure escaping her mouth as fresh blood ran down the sheets the intermediary had put on the bed that morning.
“It hurts,” she said.
Homer felt like a conqueror whose goal had been to find the recesses of her body, hidden from the world since her birth. After reaching the peak of his pleasure, he rested in her arms, remembering that other country amidst the noises of the market. He wanted to tell her everything about his life from that first moment in the backyard, when the ants had drowned in a pool of mud.
“I have been to the jungle,” he said.
“It must be beautiful,” she said.
“And full of mysteries.”
Sitting down on the bed, he showed her a picture he kept in his pockets, where a child smiled at the camera from the depths of time. He didn’t know how it had withstood the sea but God must have kept it amongst the tragedy, as she dried her tears and the intermediary interrupted the scene, a pink towel wrapped around his body.
“You must be feeling better,” he said.
“Homer nodded. “It’s all thanks to Fifi.”
Then he joined them on the bed, his semen healing her soreness while Homer rested by their side.
“I must be dreaming,” he said.


New York
Homer’s strength returned under Fifi’s love, as they talked about their lives in the outside world before his tragedy.
“I used to sit by the tree of life,” Homer said.
“The tree of life?”
“Jose called it that way. He was my invisible friend.”
Homer drew Jose’s face with his freckles and curly fair in a piece of paper she gave him, telling her about the times he had played with himself amidst the garden muck.
“Jose is eternal,” he said.
Homer tasted her lips full of the sea, while arousing her with his caresses. Then he kissed her teats, bronzed by the sun during their journey back to America, when their relationship had flourished amidst the waves.
“I love you,” she said.
“That’s good.”
Homer went inside her, the statue of liberty holding its torch towards the sky in a bit to stop the end of time.
“Do it faster,” she said.
“Bitch.”
“Aaaaa.”
“I like virgins.”
Their love session ended, as the intermediary had cabled the authorities about Homer’s return to life and the city wanted to celebrate in style.
“I hear thunder,” Homer said.
“It must be fireworks,” she said.
Resting in each other’s arms, they thought of the celebrations waiting for them on their arrival at New York. It had to be the best party the city had known for some time, amidst the recession caused by the war.
Homer practiced his best smile for the public in front of the mirror as she wiped her sins in the shower, hoping to keep his sperms within her uterus forever. Then the intermediary appeared at the door, looking smart in his military uniform.
“We must disembark,” he said.
Fifi came out naked, arousing everyone in the room before finding her best dress in the wardrobe. After Homer had zipped her black frog with the sequels, she made sure her black hair looked neat for the press.
“It’s our moment of glory,” Homer said.
She nodded. “I think they love you.”
She kissed him for a last time before following the intermediary towards the deck where everyone cheered, blinding them with their camera flashes.
“Hurrah to Homer,” everyone said.
“I’m glad to be back in the city,” Homer said.
The journalists crowded around him, a girl wearing a mini skirt offered him a bouquet of flowers and the world went mad.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Why didn’t you go down with the ship?” the journalists asked.
“The life jacket wouldn’t go away,” Homer said.
“That’s strange,” they said.
The journalists fought with each other to take his picture, a nice end to his adventure when his money would grow in the bank.
“The girl must be your girlfriend,” they said.
“I’m married,” he said.
“That’s interesting.”
After posing a few more times, they gave Homer millions of dollars for his bravery in the sea. On looking at his purse bursting with money to put in his bank account, his hear bit faster, adrenaline running through his veins for the best idea he ever had.
“Thank you,” he said.
“We must thank you,” they said.
On driving through the city, confetti fell from the tall buildings, as crowds of people welcomed Homer back home, even though his men had died in the name of freedom. Fifi had offered her virginity for his sanity during the hardest time of his life after the tragedy.
“You are my hero,” she said.
Homer kissed her as the car went past the Empire State building, the noise of his supporters echoing everywhere while Uncle Hugh opened a bottle of champagne he had brought for the occasion.
“We must toast to our hero,” he said.
They toasted to Homer’s adventures in the sea and to the city where his soul had wandered during his childhood, the noise of the fireworks echoing in the confines of his soul.
“I miss my men,” he said.
“Is it the sailors?” she asked.
They had arrived at the hotel, where members of the public mixed with some of the reporters, celebrating the hero’s return from the tragedy. We love you, said in the posters adorning part of the walls, before the police helped Homer to get in the building.
“You must go up to your room,” they told him.
Homer didn’t understand why he had to fear the public, if they loved him.
“The sea is more dangerous,” he said.


Fifi in love
Homer defies the sea, said in the New York Times the next day, the battles fought in Asia and Europe meant nothing to the world, whilst Homer’s star rose above the earth. Fifi wrote a chronicle called: Alone between the sky and the sea. It won the first prize in international journalism and the peace prize. The journalist article of the writer Fifi was translated to all the languages and dialects of the world, giving a good account of Homer’s suffering in the hands of the sea.
He had never felt better, spending their days in a cloud of ecstasy with Fifi by his side. As they toasted to their love in a bar at the top floor of the Empire State building, tiny people moved through the streets, drops of rain making everything wet. On sharing the beauty of the world with the woman he had found amidst his fame and fortune, Fifi had come to his life after his brush with death, but Lola belonged to his past along all the other women he had..
“I dreamed of you while sleeping on my boxes,” he said.
“Why did you sleep in boxes?” she asked.
“I’m an eccentric,” he said.
“I see.”
Fifi listened to his confession of passion in another place, where he had loved her inside a hut.
“You look like her,” he said.
“Are you sure?”
As they kissed amongst the crowds of people looking at the city below them, they must have been together when the world had crumbled around their feet in his nightmares of the end of time.
“Make a wish to the god of heights,” she said.
He nodded. “I love you.”
“Make your wish then.”
She kissed him, the clouds in the horizon becoming a gateway to distant lands, while Kam remained amidst the mysteries of the jungle.
“Once upon a time I wanted to be the richest man on earth,” he said.
“You’re a millionaire now.”
“I used to live in a cellar with my dog,” he said.
She shrugged. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”
“And then I married myself.”
She thought it was a joke but Homer looked serious.
“It’s all legal,” he said.
He found a document inside his bag, confirming his marriage to himself in El Baratillo. Fifi had never heard so much nonsense.
“Father Ricardo married me,” he said.
“He must be mad.”
“I helped him repair his church,” he said.
“At first you met me in the jungle and then you married yourself.”
The sailors had brought salted fish and he had kissed himself at the start of a new life when he wanted to be the richest man on earth.
“We had a party afterwards,” he said. “Amelia played with her dolls.”
“Amelia?”
“She’s Miguel’s daughter, the man who worked in the shop.”
Uncle Hugh had visited them from beyond reality as his invisible friend intruded in that other life he had beyond time.
“What happened to the widows?” she interrupted his narrative.
“Then rain flooded their homes,” Homer said.
“I’m sorry.”
Homer’s bad luck chased him around the earth.
“I was born under a dark sun,” he said. “My mother had me during a solar eclipse.”
He pictured the sun in space, its flames engulfing the earth in a vision of hell as dark clouds gathered outside the building, a storm threatening to mar their day of glory.
“I love you,” he said.
“You must say that to all the girls.”
Homer made another wish to the gods of heights before the end of time, the rain ruining a perfect day amidst the heavens and the city hid beneath the storm. Then thunder roared about them, bringing to life all those fears they kept in their souls, the ground shaking amidst his fright.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Don’t worry.”
Holding his hands, she comforted his fears of the end of time, according to Lola’s mother predictions and his own memories of other lives he must have had.


The meeting
Fifi took him to the metro that afternoon amidst the crowds of people doing their shopping or going to work. The train moved through the streets, the houses flying past their windows in a carriage with graffiti on the walls and despair on its floor. Homer didn’t care where Maria lived so long as she gave him money.
“I can’t remember the tragedy,” he said.
A few people came in the carriage, an inner calm invading his soul, when he kissed her amidst the noise, tasting her toothpaste and other things hiding in her mouth.
“You mustn’t blame yourself for the tragedy,” she said.
He felt her breasts through the blouse as they arrived at a grey station full of commuters in their way to somewhere.
“It’s our station,” she said.
Getting off the carriage amidst the people in their way to an important appointment in time, Homer didn’t like Brooklyn with its dirty streets but he had to endure anything for his money. The traffic roared past them, the city reminding him of hell until they stopped by a grey building, reaching for the clouds.
“It’s on the tenth floor,” Fifi said.
Homer had a taste of life in a rundown place, where God’s forgotten children lived in the middle of the metropolis while going up in the lift. He didn’t understand all the graffiti in the walls, telling him about life in another place in time, but they received him with due honours in Maria’s flat.
“Homer is here,” she said.
Leaving her mark on his lips, she took him to the sitting room where other people waited. They all loved him.
“I’ve cooked a nice chicken,” she said.
“And I’ve made the sprouts,” someone else said.
“We must feed our hero.”
“Thanks,” Homer said.
Then Uncle Hugh appeared at the door. Looking tall and gaunt, the man had aged since the last time Homer had seen him.
“Two and two are seven,” Homer said.
Uncle Hugh smiled. “I knew that.”
Homer needed more money for his future, while enduring their tales of bravery somewhere in the world. He signed their diaries and notebooks they would treasure all their lives, while a woman slipped a note in his lap: I love you, it said in big letters.
“You saved yourself,” she said. “That is enough for us.”
“Thank you.”
“Did you see monsters?” she asked.
“Big fish swam around me,” Homer said.
“You are a hero.”
Homer had defied nature and the hand of God, trying to liberate his countrymen from Hitler’s grasp.
“I should have died,” he said.
“Don’t say that,” everyone said.
On crying in Fifi’s arms, he remembered the sailors’ bodies consumed by the flames amidst scenes of panic and desperation.
“Hurrah to the Messiah,” they chanted.
“He’s our holly man,” Maria said.
They worshipped Homer, who had offered his life for his country.
“We’ll have his picture by the altar,” Maria gestured to the place where the candles burned all the time.
“I’m not God,” he said.
Homer thought of his life from the dawn of time, toasting to the liberation of their country. As Maria went around the room collecting money for their hero, he touched her bottom.
“Your girlfriend is here,” she said.
Homer took her to the toilet at the back of the room, where no one should hear their cries of joy.
“No,” she said.
“It’s all right,” he said.
On pushing her inside the darkness, he saw a candle in a corner- a good omen for a moment of passion. After opening his trousers, she followed the contour of his member along the foreskin and up to his balls, when he pushed hard inside her, the wall trembling and the voices of the other people floating in a place of shadows. He left her in the gloom, before making his way back to his admirers. It must have been a dream, Homer thought sitting next to Fifi.
“We have raised millions of pesos for Homer’s projects,” Maria interrupted his reverie. She must have left the toilet very quickly.
“Hurrah,” everyone said.
Homer still feared some kind of punishment for his actions, as Fifi muttered in his ear.
“Where were you,” she asked.
“I had to go to the toilet.”
“It must be the excitement, “she said.
The telephone rang and Maria answered it with that mouth he liked so much.
“The president of the United States wants to give you a medal,” she said.
“Hurrah to our hero,” everyone said.
It had been a good evening, even if the clock ran towards the end of time.


The Dark sun
They were in bed when the telephone rang.
“That was Uncle Hugh,” Fifi said. “The press is waiting in the hotel lobby.”
“What do they want?” Homer asked.
“You’re famous now.”
Homer got ready while she brushed her hair and wore her best dress for his moment of glory. He was a hero and the world wanted him. As they stood in front of the mirror hand in hand, she straightened her dress and pushed her hair out of her face. They had to look glamorous for the world. He tasted her lips, hungry for his soul, while practicing what to say to a room full of reporters who wanted to hear his story once more.
“I’m nervous,” she said.
He hugged her. “It’s only the press.”
They had to delay the moments when the cameras would take many pictures to put in their papers for the people to see in their homes and everywhere else. He led her through the corridors and down to the lifts, waiting to take them to their destiny. As they entered the hotel lobby holding hands, Fifi looked radiant, while Homer tried to look cool for the press.
“Hurrah to Homer,” they chanted.
They wanted to hear his words, while taking pictures.
“What are your plans for the future?” they asked.
“I want to travel the world and meet people in distant lands,” Homer said.
“Do you love her?”
“It’s my business,” Homer said.
“Tell us about it.”
“Not now,” Homer said.
“You are a hero.”
Homer imagined the newspaper headlines the next day, talking about his love for the woman who had saved his life after the tragedy in the sea.
“Did you see monsters?” they asked.
“What monsters?”
“Your girlfriend wrote about that in her essay,” they said.
Homer felt confused by the trauma of his adventure while they took pictures of the hero who had defied Hitler’s terror.
“The submarine is bombing us,” he said.
“It isn’t,” Fifi said.
Homer remembered the moment when death had taken his crew away, while feeling her body under her dress. The press went on with their interview without bothering with his feelings.
“Can you remember the tragedy?” they asked.
Homer shrugged. “I heard a noise before the flames erupted around us.”
“It must have been terrible.”
“I have nightmares about it,” Homer said.
He didn’t like the questions and the world looked fuzzy.
“I killed them,” he said.
The future had to learn about the young man’s revelations amidst his memories but homer seemed nervous. The cameras made him remember bad things happening in another time.
“He’s not feeling well,” Fifi said.
His world ended in a multitude of colours, while moving towards the stairs, followed by the cameras.
“I’m dizzy,” he said.
Fifi helped him through the foyer, his head spinning faster on thinking of his suffering aboard the boat, when his men had died for his country.
“It’s Armageddon,” he said.
“Can you tell us the meaning of that world?” the journalists asked.
“He wants to be alone,” Fifi said.
On helping Homer to the lift, she avoided a few journalists in their search for more questions about the tragedy.
“Did you see any sharks?” they asked.
“You must been frightened,” they said.
“We’ll pay you well.”
The mention of dollars stopped his behaviour, as the journalists offered large sums of money for his cooperation. Homer listened to the large amounts of capital if they told them their suffering amidst the storm.
“I can talk for a few minutes,” he said.
“You don’t feel well,” she said.
“We’ll give you millions of dollars,” they said.
Homer followed them to the lounge, where he sat in the sofas, the journalists organising their cameras and other instruments around him.
“I saw sharks,” he said.
“Did they threaten to eat you?”
“Of course.”
“That must have been frightening.”
“Then the sky acquired a strange tinge, bringing death and desperation to the sea.”
Homer told them everything that happened since the start of his adventure while the press took his pictures and the entire planet spoke about him.


A new life
Homer received a medal from the United States congress in a sober ceremony attended by the heads of many countries, three hundred thousand soldiers, nine hundred thousand students and a lot of veterans of the world wars. Stalin declared him leader of the Soviet workers and General De Gaulle kissed him repeatedly in the cheeks. Bigger ships sailed under his flag as he sold arms to a few Latin American countries.
He had left Fifi alone in New York as he travelled to Colombia, where Uncle Hugh had gone to live. That’s called progress, Homer thought as he looked at the skyscrapers all around him, whilst recalling the death of his parents in the mist of time. They could write a story about his life. Homer imagined his name in glowing lights in the cinema, as the actor went through his years of hunger and distress in order to get his money. Fifi hoped he would come back one day after visiting the world.
Uncle Hugh had left some breakfast on the table, after rushing to interview a few important people in the city. Homer’s mind went back in time to that moment when he had appeared in the backyard, Uncle Hugh brought him presents from New York and Jose joined him from beyond the mist.
“It’s a question of words,” he said to himself.
On opening the papers he had brought in his suitcase, he examined those pages full of zeros and other things, meaning something beyond his comprehension. A bunch of papers had sent him to a realm of fantasy inhabited by ghosts and other things he couldn’t understand at the start of his life. Homer saw the past merging into the future, when he remembered his trip through the jungle in another era and before darkness had brought destruction to his world. Then he barked, the sound of his voice bringing him back to reality. His life had started while watching the ants struggling in the mud, their convolutions reminding him of the chaos brought by the sun.
Shutting the curtains everywhere, he tried to keep the sun from damaging his life, before the end of time. Homer cowered in a corner, ignoring the light filtering in some places and forming rainbows in the floor, where the dust floated in the air, the past coming getting together with the future once more.
“My life started with the sun,” he said.
Homer drew the sun amidst all the other things in the paper, because it had been part of his life forever, bringing together the beginning and the end with a limbo world in the middle. The realms of time balanced forever in something he couldn’t understand as part of his nightmares or inside the symbols written in the papers.
Uncle Hugh had to know something about his future or he wouldn’t have been at the beginning of time because it had become eternal like his life.
“Two and two are seven,” Homer said.
After he had written a few more things in the paper, the writing became more difficult to understand, the meaning of everything else dissolving into nothingness. Homer threw the papers up in the air, when they fluttered about the room and ending on a heap on the floor. The door opened and Uncle Hugh appeared holding his bag.
“I had to leave early,” he said.
That sentence stopped Homer’s daydream, where fiction and reality had mixed together in another place called limbo.
“I’ve seen the tree of life,” Homer said.
Uncle Hugh smiled. “It is in your old home.”
Homer remembered being a lonely child in a city brought back from the chaos of time. He had trusted the world before losing his parents and earning his money in his enterprises, even though the rows of lines and zeros didn’t add much to anything.
“You must know about the end of time,” Homer said.
“We must go now,” his uncle said.
“It happened before you visited us.”
“You must have dreamed it,” Uncle Hugh said.
Homer looked for his bag, before following his uncle into the street where the car waited. The memory of those days bringing tears to his eyes as they drove around the where people rested in the parks as some of them hurried through the streets to their jobs.
“You appeared by my side that day,” he said.
“What day?”
“After the darkness.”
“I don’t understand,” Uncle Hugh said.
“You were father’s special visitor.”
After driving for some time, Uncle Hugh stopped the car outside a shop with glass windows.
“It’s on the second floor,” he said.
“Will you come?” Homer asked.
“Uncle Hugh shook his head. “I have other things to do.”
“You must think in my words.”
“And bring the end of time.”
Homer went up the stairs instead of taking the lift and arrived at a long corridor, flanked by offices, where a fat man sat behind a desk in a place full of pictures of boats.
The man looked at him, after pushing his glasses up his nose.
“You must be Mr. Homer,” he said.
Homer shook his hands, hoping he wouldn’t get any strange illness living in his fingers, his eyes straying amidst the pictures of boats in the walls
“It is in the port,” the man said.
Homer smiled. “That’s fantastic.”
As the man wrote something in his book, he felt the shadows coming alive as if someone had watched his transaction, the sound of the storm interrupting his reality. He had to find out the meaning of his memories as the man gave him a set of keys to open up his dreams.
Memories
On wandering the streets after leaving the shop, Homer reached the cemetery where the graves of his parents lay behind rows of stones. He had amassed his fortune by working hard and exploiting human ingenuity. As he barked, the people in the cemetery turned to look at him. This was a country in conflict, where the rains had spoiled his work and Maria must have married someone else, he thought on remembering his childhood in the backyard, witness to his arrival from beyond reality in that sunny day.
“Hey mister,” a voice said. “Can I have a coin?”
Homer saw a child asking for some money to buy his dinner. Looking in his pocket, he found a few cents to give him amidst bits of rubbish.
“God bless you,” the child said.
The boy ran away amongst the shoppers in the market but then Homer saw the place where his shop used to be, although he had rented it, giving some of the profits to Miguel in order to help with Amelia’s education. The child is obsessed with the army, his employee had said.
The sounds of the world disturbed his concentration, as he saw the tree of life and the sun hid behind the clouds. The porter read a magazine by the door while Homer moved across the room, Maria’s ghost beckoning him from beyond the courtyard.
“You have to leave,” the porter said.
Homer reached the backyard where the tree waited for his dreams at the end of time but the man shook his arm.
“I’ll call the police,” he said.
“This building is mine,” Homer said.
“Prove it.”
Homer looked in his pockets for that contract he had signed long ago.
“You must be Mr. Homer,” the porter said.
“That’s right.”
The sun went behind some clouds, thunder echoing across the sky as Homer touched his tree, defying the Gods of apocalypse for intruding in his life, thick drops falling on his head.
“It’s raining,” the porter said.
Homer expected to see a shadow looming over him from beyond reality while the rain made his clothes wet, the world exploding in a multitude of sounds. Tears went down his cheeks, mixing with the water as he went inside the room where his coca used to wait for his customers every morning, as Maria moved her hips all the time.
“Some of the floors are rented,” the porter said.
Homer nodded. “I know.”
He saw the lift standing aloof amidst the wall, waiting to take him up into the unknown but he had to get back to Uncle Hugh’s home.
“I have to go now,” Homer said.
“It has been a pleasure meeting you,” the porter said.
Homer had a last look at the backyard before making his way to the street where he had to find a taxi to go across the town. A woman appeared by his side. Tall and slim, she smelled of perfume and moved like a tiger.
“Mr. Homer,” she said.
Homer looked into her face, noticing her breasts under her blouse.
“You rescued my mother from the rains,” she said.
Homer remembered those times, lost in the mist of his imagination.
“I am one of the widow’s children,” she said.
She hugged him for some time, pressing against his hard member.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Why?”
“For saving my life.”
“But the widows died,” he said.
“I made lots of money after the deluge,” she said.
Homer had been saving the world when she had been given money by the papers for telling her story.
“I was a heroin,” she said.
Homer kissed her, savouring her tongue, full of the taste of glory.
“Come to my place,” she said.
She led him across the street, where a few of the shop owners looked at him and the cars waited at the traffic lights. Homer touched her hips, full of glucose to survive during the hard times, as she opened a door. He had to help the widow’s children to attain their glory.


The news
Homer found a letter addressed to him the next morning. On opening it, he saw Fifi’s clear writing, in a paper smelling of cologne and flowers, where she said many things. I will arrive at six o’clock, she wrote in fine letters. Homer read that paragraph many times, trying to make sense of the news.
A wealthy uncle had left her a few thousand dollars in his will, giving her a chance to travel the world. On reading it again, he wondered why she had loved him so much all those years ago.
“Fifi is coming tonight,” Homer said to his uncle. “But I’m leaving this evening.”
“I’ll entertain her,” Uncle Hugh said.
Homer looked at her picture while sipping his drink.
“I remember that dress,” Uncle Hugh said. “She looked gorgeous.”
“I loved her once,” Homer said.
“Why did you leave her?”
“I don’t know.”
Homer shouldn’t have gone travelling the world. Putting the notebook in his bag, he got ready for his appointment with the future, even if he had some fun with the widow’s child the night before. He had to enlighten his days in the city after all the suffering in his life.
“Are you ready?” Uncle Hugh interrupted his thoughts.
The clouds gathered in the sky as they drove through the roads taking them to the airport. Fifi had got rid of the shadows some time ago but he wanted his freedom. Homer looked at the fields going on forever while some of the cars drove somewhere else in time. Wiping a runaway tear, he hoped she would bring all the memories he had buried on his departure.
“You wanted your freedom,” Uncle Hugh said.
They had arrived at a big building, where a plane roared over their heads and the taxis waited for their fares. Uncle Hugh found the car park near the control tower, sending the airplanes somewhere in the world.
“We are just on time,” he said.
On following him amidst the crowd, Homer thought of the woman he had not seen for some time as a voice announced the arrival of her flight. Then a few people filed out of the door pushing their suitcases towards their friends or relatives when an attractive blonde strolled along the corridor. The beautiful apparition came straight towards him, and took her dark glasses off.
“Fifi,” Homer said.
She smiled. “You look lost.”
“Hi Fifi,” Uncle Hugh said.
“Darling,” she said. “I have missed you.”
Homer pushed her case towards the nearest cafeteria. They didn’t have much time to talk before someone called his flight to Santa Marta. Uncle Hugh ordered the drinks, as Homer remembered all the things they had done during their time together.
“I’ve had an operation to enlarge my breasts,” she said.
That is why she looked so voluptuous, enhancing her curves and sex appeal. He kissed her for some time, his hands exploring her body.
“I have missed you,” she said.
“Prove it then,” he said.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Putting his arms around her shoulders, he felt her scent while the world flew away from them. Homer lost count of the minutes they remained in each other’s arms, surrounded by lots of people.
“Can we go to the toilet?” he asked.
“Your flight is leaving soon.”
A tap in his shoulders brought him back to reality.
“I have your drinks,” Uncle Hugh said.
“Thank you,” Homer said.
Sitting down at the table, he studied Fifi’s transformation. She had changed a lot since he had been rescued from the sea in the mist of time.
“Do you want to come with me to Santa Marta?” he asked.
“I don’t have a ticket,” she said.
“I’ll get you a ticket,” he said. “I’ll buy the whole plane if you want to.”
“But...” she said.
Homer held her hands. “You mustn’t talk.”
She returned his caresses and Uncle Hugh looked away. Homer wanted to enjoy a new chapter in his life with the woman he had loved in the dawn of time.
“It’s time for your flight,” Uncle Hugh said.
“Come with me,” Homer said.
“I don’t know,” Fifi said.
Leading her to the ticket office, Homer explained his problem to the woman sitting behind the window.
“We don’t have any more seats,” she said.
He took his check book out of his pocket.
“How much do you want?” he asked.
A middle aged man came towards them, interrupting the conversation. Homer thought he was another passenger and pushed him aside.
“How are you, general?” Fifi asked.
Homer watched as she kissed him.
“This is General Gomez Ayala,” she said. “He’s my fiancé.”
The man shook Homer’s hand.
“You must be Homer,” he said. “I have heard a lot about you.”
“He studied your correspondence courses,” she said.
Homer couldn’t believe Fifi’s ingratitude. She should have told him about the general, instead of leading him on. Looking in his bag, he gave the man a card with the yacht’s phone number. He had to do business with Fifi’s fiancée in the midst of his departure.
“I’ll keep our business a secret,” he said.


The general
EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT
We see the top part of a yacht. The seats, the floor and the walls are luxurious. We notice the movement so typical of all ships. It makes sailors walk the way they do, a reason to believe we’re in high seas. It’s night time. On the top of a mast, we see a seagull opening his left eye. That’s the one he shows to the public.
SEAGULL
I forgot to take the tablet of Sinogan. I couldn’t sleep last night.
He coos while putting his head under his wings as a young woman appears at the door. She has platinum blond hair, electric blue eyelashes, a forty plus brassier and sensual lips. Measures: 94-39-90
She wears a long gown, the colour of dry wine, moulding on her anatomy, while her forty plus bra seems in danger of blowing up and bronze skin peeps out of the holes in her dress
FIFI
Alone between the sky and sea!

She sighs, defying the stability of her bra.
FIFI
The night and the sea are the sailor’s love.

The seagull opens her eyes.
SEAGUL
I can’t sleep and this sleep walker says stupid things.

Fifi looks at the seagull.

FIFI
Poor bird, are you cold?
SEAGULL

The night is a bit fresh. Do you happen to have a sinogan?

FIFI
What is it?

SEAGULL
It’s a sleeping tablet.

FIFI
I don’t sleep with tablets. I usually sleep with my husband but sometimes I use a
Friend in order to have some fun.

A middle-aged man appears, wearing a captain’s uniform with a white shirt, trousers and shoes. She turns to look at the newcomer.
FIFI
Homer, my darling.
She kisses him.
HOMER
What is my blond angel doing here alone?
FIFI
I asked this little bird who was the greatest sailor in the world, my captain.
HOMER
I’d like to be the greatest pirate of them all, just for you. You’re my treasure but I
can’t hide you in the most remote part of the Caribbean.

FIFI
We must hide ourselves from my husband, the general.
HOMER
Generals are nice.
FIFI
My captain won’t remember me tomorrow.
SEAGULL
I’ll have a nice time.
HOMER
My love will follow you everywhere, just like a good dog.
FIFI
I do believe you’re a dog.
HOMER
I feel like a schoolboy in love.
SEAGULL
I also see that soap opera.
FIFI
This is our last night. We’ll be far away from each other by tomorrow.
HOMER
We should be on our own if the general doesn’t disturb us.
FIFI
The general sleeps as deeply as a first line trench. Nothing wakes him up.
HOMER
He’s an antitank ditch.

SEAGULL
He must have made the Maginot line.
Cardinal Anastasio appears, wearing a red skirt with golden buttons, a triple crown with a diamond cross and socks and shoes similar to the skirt, while moving like a tanker getting ready for a fight. Measurements: 94-344-480
He coughs, his deep and authoritative voice coming out of his rounded stomach.
CARDINAL
I’m sorry for the interruption. I was talking to my God as usual.
Fifi and Homer kneel down on the floor.
FIFI AND HOMER (In unison)
Your highness..
The cardinal blesses them, reciting a few things in Latin.
CARDINAL
Stand up now my children. God will be with you forever.
They straighten their clothes while rising from the floor.
HOMER
Your highness, I want to thank you for visiting my ship.
CARDINAL
You’re the modest one.
FIFI
It’s an honour to have a prince of the church with us in this important journey. We
feel as if we were travelling with God himself.
CARDINAL
My daughter, we, the shepherds have to be with our sheep. By the way, hasn’t
Aurita come yet?
FIFI
The admiral was seasick today.
HOMER
She should be here soon. Let’s have a glass of wine while we wait.
CARDINAL
God must bless Homer as he’s a prince.
SEAGULL
The lady in red must be pregnant.
Homer gives orders to a nearby sailor.
HOMER
My activities need the protection of the Almighty.
FIFI
You are the father of freedom. They must erect statues in your honour.
HOMER
Stop saying foolish things.
CARDINAL
Don’t be so modest. We know about your adventure in the middle of the Atlantic.
HOMER
I did what anyone else would have done.
FIFI
I wrote between the sea and the sky in your honour. It’s hard not to notice
a great man.
SEAGULL
The smallest ship that man knows is the Queen Elizabeth II.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT
The sailors bring some bottles, a few glasses and jars with flowers and put them on a table.
CARDINAL
I wonder what has happened to Aurita.
FIFI
Love is beautiful.
HOMER
It’s the substance of life.
The cardinal sighs.
CARDINAL
I’m in love.
FIFI
You must have been a good looking man. It must be a blessing for Aurita to be in
God’s heart.
CARDINAL
I’ve loved God and my fellow human beings all my life.
HOMER
God protects his apostles.
CARDINAL
It’s not a bad thing to have my own pleasures, after serving eternity forever.
CUT TO
EXT YATCH-EVENING
Homer pours wine in the glasses as the guests come to the table.
HOMER
I toast for a saint apostle and the most beautiful woman in the world.
CARDINAL AND FIFI (In unison)
Thank you.
They all drink.

SEAGULL
This will be a long party. I’m glad I didn’t take that sinogan.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT
A beautiful girl appears, wearing a long black dress with an opening up to her hips. She styles her hair like Cleopatra before she met Mark Anthony while her eyes are black, her teeth white and her lips pink. She looks like Aphrodite, but with a pair of well shaped arms and teats.
Measurements: 8-31- 82
CARDINAL
I think an angel has arrived.
Aurita kisses him.
HOMER
That’s love.
FIFI
What about us?
Fifi and Homer kiss each other.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT
The girls sit on the men’s laps.
SEAGULL
What are these people doing?
The cardinal offers Aurita a glass full of wine.
CARDINAL
Have a glass of wine, my darling.
She drinks almost all of it.

AURITA
I must leave some for my saint.
CARDINAL
I’m drinking your delicious blood.
AURITA
You don’t want to be a vampire.
The cardinal caresses the embroidery in Aurita’s pants.
CARDINAL
I’ve given them to you, haven’t I?
AURITA
I’m wearing them just for you.
CARDINAL
You must take them off later.
SEAGULL
The woman wearing the red skirt wants to eat the other one.
The admiral appears wearing many medals on his lapel as the women step away from their men.
HOMER
We waited for you, Admiral. How are you?
The admiral goes past the women and kneels in front of the cardinal.
ADMIRAL
Good evening, your highness.
The cardinal blesses him.
CARDINAL
God has taken pity on your soul.
The Admiral stands up. He greets Homer, hugs Fifi and kisses Aurita.

AURITA
How is my sea wolf?
ADMIRAL
I’m a bit seasick.
Homer gives him a large glass of wine.
HOMER
You’ll feel better after taking this medicine.
FIFI
I wonder what has happened to my general.
The admiral sips his wine.
ADMIRAL
He is looking for his sun.
CARDINAL
He must be a general of four suns.
SEAGULL
One sun is enough for me.
AURITA
Admirals should be of four moons.
HOMER
It’s a good idea.
FIFI
And romantic..
SEAGULL
Having four moons must be a good thing.
Homer has a word with the sailors and music drifts around the ship, while the Admiral finishes his drink.
ADMIRAL
This wine is like a woman’s milk.
CARDINAL
When God left us his blood he never thought in women.
AURITA
I believe he really talks to God.
A general with four suns in his uniform appears in the scene. Everyone stands up.
HOMER
Hurrah to our future president!
EVERYBODY
Hurrah to the president!
GENERAL
I thank all of you! To the cardinal with us in this adventure, to the great Homer who
gives us arms for our freedom and to our women, giving us their sacrifice.
Homer fills up the glasses with wine.
HOMER
We celebrate this moment by drinking to our general’s victory.
GENERAL
Thank you.
CARDINAL
I toast for the general’s sword and for our religion.
GENERAL
I ask for the protection of God and the army.
ADMIRAL
My army recognises you as the new head of state.

GENERAL
Thank you.
AURITA
Tonight is the start of a new country. Hurray to the general!
EVERYBODY
Hurray!
FIFI
I’ll be with you whatever happens.

They are affected by Fifi’s declaration of love, as Aurita wipes a runaway tear.
SEAGULL
Where do they keep the suns?
Homer replenishes the empty glasses with some more wine.
CARDINAL
We must stop the president with a military coup tomorrow.
GENERAL
Homer’s arms are first class. They’re a bit expensive but we have to think of our
cause.
HOMER
The price is not high if you consider a few details.
GENERAL
I appreciate Homer’s attitude and I assure you we’ll win. Our group is regular and the
army backs us.
ADMIRAL
We back our general.
CARDINAL
We back him spiritually. The church has better arms than canons but we have a few
tanks.
GENERAL
We have powerful arms, organisation and God’s blessings
CARDINAL
I haven’t changed my Cadillac and cars for the last two years.
FIFI
Two years?
HOMER
Two years?
CARDINAL
I only have a chalet by the beach, after helping those idiots with their coup.
AURITA
Imbeciles!
GENERAL
Your highness will be treated very well by my government.
EVERYBODY
Hurrah to our new president. Hurrah!
FIFI
Religion has gone down the drain. We have communist bishops, married priests,
naked nuns, crazy Franciscans, bad Jesuits, bigamist Dominicans, destitute saints,
canonised footballers, archangels who have been warned, cherubs working for the
Metro Goldwin Mayer, virgins with no reference, Adam and Eve without an apple and
Jesus Christ trying to pass a driving test.
CARDINAL
That’s why we need a new government to lead the country but I hope the general
doesn’t forget my needs.
GENERAL
You’ll have your chalet.
CARDINAL
You’ll have my blessings.
GENERAL
Thank you, your highness.
CARDINAL
I’m all yours, Excellency.
AURITA
He’ll have his new Cadillac and cars.
GENERAL
Yes.
SEAGULL
I am hungry.
ADMIRAL
We need a strong government for our people. That’s why we’re here tonight. We
must bring order to the country and the church. Priests have to pray more.

CARDINAL
You speak of sanctity and virtue.
GENERAL
We’ll fix this with lots of canons.
ADMIRAL
We can’t forget the tanks, ships and submarines.
HOMER
I have good submarines for you.
GENERAL
Thank you. We can show them in the parades.
ADMIRAL
Well, sometimes we use them in manoeuvres.

HOMER
My submarines must be protected against humidity.
ADMIRAL
That’s good. Sea water finishes with everything.
GENERAL
A parade with no submarines is like a party without a drink.
AURITA
Or without any music.
SEAGULL
And food.
HOMER
We must have music. We’re too solemn.
FIFI
I want hot music.
Homer exits through the door. As the sailors return with more bottles, they clean the table and change the floral decoration.
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT
Modern music floats around the ship. The cardinal and Aurita dance, while Homer dances with Fifi. The general and the admiral dance with each other.
The cardinal falls down on the floor but Homer takes him to the nearest chair and offers him some wine.
CARDINAL
I can’t cope with this modern music. We used to dance minuet and bolero some time
ago.
He touches his head.
CARDINAL
Where is my crown?
Fifi finds it under the table. After crossing himself, the cardinal puts it back on his head.
As the music drifts about the place, the cardinal dances with Aurita, his stomach getting in the way of his erection while Homer and Fifi hide in a corner. The militaries drink and talk about their plans.
CUT TO
EXT. CORNER IN LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
HOMER
You’ll be a queen tomorrow.
FIFI
And you’ll be my prince.
HOMER
That must be the general.
FIFI
He’s my prince consort.
Homer kisses her, before caressing her teats.
HOMER
You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.
FIFI
Make love to me.
Homer holds her close.
HOMER
We must get rid of your husband first.
He puts his hand up her pants

CUT TO
EXT. DANCING FLOOR IN LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

CARDINAL
Homer knows about strategies. Look where he has taken Fifi.
AURITA
Let’s follow their example.
His highness limps with Aurita to another corner, where they kiss each other.
CUT TO
EXT. DANCING FLOOR IN LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT
Homer and Fifi dance at the tune of a bolero.
EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT
GENERAL
The destroyer will be ready tomorrow then…
ADMIRAL
Those people won’t survive.
GENERAL
We must have an airplane ready to send the president away. I’m feeling
generous.
ADMIRAL
You are always been generous.
GENERAL
I don’t want much blood in our coup.
ADMIRAL
That’s good.
GENERAL
You must be the war minister.
ADMIRAL
I’m overwhelmed with your generosity.

GENERAL
We have to sign Homer’s cheques.
ADMIRAL
He’ll take care of that.
GENERAL
What a man!
ADMIRAL
He’s a shrewd businessman.
GENERAL
Let’s drink another one.
They drink more wine.
ADMIRAL
Our women are saints
GENERAL
They’ll be the first lady and the minister’s wife. We have to give them beautiful
decorations.
ADMIRAL
We need titles and honours.
GENERAL
Leave that to me.
ADMIRAL
A few more medals wouldn’t be bad for us.
They drink more wine.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YATCH- NIGHT
The boleros have stopped and everybody is back at the table.

ADMIRAL
Your Highness dances well.
CARDINAL
I’m bothering your beautiful wife. She’s nice.
AURITA
It’s an honour to be with your highness.
ADMIRAL
It’s for both of us.
CARDINAL
You’re kind.
The sailors bring more food and wine.
HOMER
I’m honoured to dance with the first lady.
FIFI
Your yacht is visited by high society.
GENERAL
Queens and kings have been here.
HOMER
I’ve never had anyone like you.
CARDINAL
The pope has been here on holydays.
ADMIRAL
The Aga Khan was here.
AURITA
And Miss Universe.
CARDINAL
And the dalai Lama.
HOMER
I have fulfilled my aspirations tonight.
GENERAL
Thank you. I’ll never forget it.
They drink to Homer’s honour. More bottles of wine arrive as the music of a ranchera drifts about the deck.
CUT TO
EXT. DANCE FLOOR IN YACHT- NIGHT
The couples dance. The general shoots his revolver while the admiral does that with his pocket machine gun. The cardinal passes wind.
SEAGULL
They make too much noise. I was falling asleep.
Aurita and the cardinal talk as Fifi and Homer whisper to each other. The militaries go back to the table while the others dance.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
GENERAL
We have enough wine to calm our nerves.
ADMIRAL
This is a very important moment in our lives.
GENERAL
We need a new government…
ADMIRAL
It will give us happiness for the rest of our days.
GENERAL
Homer can be useful.

ADMIRAL
We should have at least eighty generals and as many admirals.
GENERAL
There are three generals for each soldier at the moment. It would be ideal to
have an army of only generals.
ADMIRAL
And admirals.
GENERAL
Of course.
The sailors bring some more bottles of wine as the ranchera comes to an end.
HOMER
My distinguished guests, you must sign my cheques now.
ADMIRAL
I have a short speech bought from the national factory.
GENERAL
I’ve got one from the same place.
The sailors bring a table covered with a green cloth. It is full of papers, pens, typewriters and calculators. A man without much hair bows in front of the people and sits at the table. They all gather around the table, except for the general, who looks at his medals while standing up.
GENERAL
Good evening your highness, ladies and gentlemen.
We have gathered here today in the middle of the sea and under the light of a thousand
constellations…
He waves his spade and cuts the tail of the seagull as he eats tuna from the plates.


GENERAL
…to save my country from the chains. I’m prepared to offer my life for my
people.
They applaud.
GENERAL
We need faith and dignity, greatness and altruism to give our people peace, justice
and bread.

They applaud again. The seagull sips some wine from a glass and also applauds.
GENERAL
We come back like the Spartans with the emblems...
They cry, applaud and drink wine.
GENERAL
Dawn will find us in the trenches defending our country, who taught us love from
the cradle, with our mother’s tears and the efforts of a dying father. God, Christ
and freedom! Here is a saying of my government: for the country and to the
country.
They applaud. The general searches for his glass to refresh his mouth but the seagull has finished with the wine.
GENERAL
I invite you to follow my comrades. If I go back, kill me. If I die, look for
revenge.
They all hug the general. Fifi and the seagull kiss him in the mouth while the cardinal straightens his crown and gets ready to speak.
CARDENAL
In this night full of faith and hope I want to represent the catholic people of my
country, to tell our leader that we’ll follow him beyond death, if it’s necessary.
They applaud.
CARDINAL
On the twenty seventh of October of the year 1312, the emperor Constantine found
the troops of his rival Magencio twelve kilometres away from Rome. He called
the Christian God while turning his eyes to the sunset, where he saw a luminous cross
with the following words: With this sign you’ll win. He was promoted as Jesus
Christ, God of the armies.
They applaud.
CARDINAL
That’s why at this solemn moment of our lives, we turn our eyes towards God, and
find his words: with the saint cross, we’ll have victory.
Everyone goes mad.
CARDINAL
I must give you the papal blessing with a plenary indulgence.
They all kneel on the floor, including the seagull. The cardinal prays in Latin while pouring holy water around him. The seagull doesn’t like it and goes back to the food. They all congratulate his highness.
HOMER
General, supreme boss, protector and father of our country: I had never seen such a
unanimous opinion about our government. I have the honour of showing the
receipts where your signatures prove the courage of your hearts.

The general goes to the table, reads a few lines of the document and signs it. The admiral also signs without reading the paper. The cardinal ads postdate: don’t forget the ten per cent. Then he signs it.
HOMER
I want to offer the pens we have used in the ceremony to our ladies.

He gives one to Fifi, another one to Aurita and the third one to the seagull.
The admiral drinks some wine, clears his throat and gets ready to talk.
ADMIRAL
General, supreme boss, admiral, protector and father of our country, the cardinal,
ladies and gentlemen: I want to say a few words in this day, when we decide the
future of a free country. Since the birth of our nation, a few ethnic races have
come to America. It opened its entrails to the Iberian race, pregnant with God, and
to the black torrent of Africa. All of this was mixed in the new land and new
hearts.

They applaud.
ADMIRAL
In between the paths of the virgin jungle..
CARDINAL
This is not a good moment to talk about virgins.
ADMIRAL
In their perpetual fight against a hostile medium, our ancestors grew in the highest
Andean mountain, the tree of a victorious Christ against the moors in Lepanto.
They applaud.
ADMIRAL
This blood made plants grow next to the cross. It turned into the chastity of our
women, charity in the toughness of our men, and sanctity with the beats of the sword.
The eternal reflex of the sea changed into a pyramid of light in between paths of hope
and amidst dawns full of awe. The weeping of children sent a choir to the wind,
forming the first notes of the symphony of America.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

The seagull eats the fish swimming in the aquarium.

Homer shoos him away.

HOMER
Stop it.

CUT TO

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT

ADMIRAL

Atahualpa and Gaspar joining their titanic forces over mountains full of
snow, wrote the last page of the Inca culture…

CUT TO

CARDINAL
I think the admiral wants to tell us the history of America.
AURITA
I’m a fan of the America football team. He doesn’t have to discuss the games,
citing the classic ones would be enough.

CARDINAL
The last classic finished 2-2.
AURITA
We should dance.
The cardinal disappears through the door.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT –NIGHT
The music of rancheras drifts through the ship.
MUSIC
The day I die, it will be by four gunshots…
ADMIRAL
…When the warrior talent of Pizarro met the idolatrous Indians, celestial fire took
the last Inca in front of his first cause. He…

MUSIC
He didn’t have time to go on his horse…
The cardinal gestures to Aurita.
CARDINAL
My love, can we escape while the admiral remembers our country?
They leave the scene.
ADMIRAL
Loyalty to the institutions is one of the duties of a patriot.
The general decides to dance with the seagull after drinking some more wine.
CUT TO
EXT- LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
Homer sits close to Fifi.
HOMER
His highness stole Aurita.
FIFI
It’s natural. Her husband’s mind is in Cusco now.
CUT TO
ADMIRAL
….And then the Incas, suffered in rivers of blood…
The general looks at the seagull.
GENERAL
What’s your opinion of the miniskirt?
CUT TO
ADMIRAL
…From the Orinoco, the water is full of remains…
MUSIC
I’m drinking like a madman…
CUT TO
Homer and Fifi sit holding hands.
HOMER
Our general of four suns hasn’t had much sun.
FIFI
We must give him the sleeping drug.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
The general dances with the seagull.
GENERAL
Do you like the music?

SEAGULL
I prefer rock.
CUT TU
ADMIRAL
…And then freedom grew like a tropical plant. One of those creepers climbing
forever towards the light, without looking at its own whiteness, because it counts
its energies…
MUSIC
If they tell you, they saw me very drunk…
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT
The music has stopped and everybody has come back to the table. Homer pours a few drops of sinogan in the general’s cup.
SEAGULL
They told me nothing was good for sleeping.
ADMIRAL
…The centaurs of freedom broke their arrows on the armours of the sons of El
Cid…
They all drink and eat.
CUT TO
GENERAL
Our admiral is still talking. I’ll give him a glass of wine.
After pouring wine in a glass, he gets near the admiral.
ADMIRAL
…The great achievements of the Iberian race, which couldn’t fight against its own
children in whom…
He sips wine from the glass the general has offered him.

ADMIRAL
…The seeds of his genius proliferate…
CUT TO
HOMER
The admiral is a master of rhetoric without any doubts.
GENERAL
I’ll ask him for a copy to edit in the official paper. I think it’s very interesting.
HOMER
Do you want another glass of wine, general?
CUT TO
Homer pours a bag of powder in the wine. The general drinks the wine with the strong mixture of medicines.
EVERYBODY
Hurrah to the admiral!
ADMIRAL
…And then the fecund rivers of the dark women gave birth to heroes, who
multiplied themselves just as his children…
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT – NIGHT
HOMER
I’ve given him the whole solution. We’ll have the rest of the night to ourselves.
FIFI
When will the admiral end?
CUT TO
The cardinal and Aurita come back to the table rearranging their clothes. They ask for glasses of wine.
ADMIRAL
…And then the flag of freedom displayed its colours…
AURITA
My husband must be finishing.
The seagull flies away, crashing against some of the mastiffs as the general goes to sleep on the table after drinking his wine. He snores with the peculiar sound of heroes.
CUT TO
ADMIRAL
…That is why we must shout once more: Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! I’ve
spoken.
They applaud while the admiral drinks his wine.
CARDINAL
We must go to sleep, my sons. I have to say mass early tomorrow.
ADMIRAL
We understand.
Homer calls the sailors.
HOMER
Take the general to his cabin and help him to get undressed.


Human Bombs
EXT. SHIP- NIGHT
A few sailors look into the night with binoculars as a middle aged man wearing a short shirt stands with a glass in his hand.
Sipping his drink, he looks out into the sea.
INTERMEDIARY
Are you sure this is the place?
FIRST SAILOR
The pilot swears it is.
INTERMEDIARY
It’s strange. These people usually arrive on time.
SECOND SAILOR
They must have been found.
INTERMEDIARY
Don’t be a pessimist.
SECOND SAILOR
Everything is possible, my captain.
INTERMEDIARY
You mustn’t call me captain. I’m only an intermediary, remember?
ALL THE SAILORS
Yes sir.
INTERMEDIARY
Are you all armed?
ALL THE SAILORS
Yes sir.
INTERMEDIARY
Have you checked the security installations?
ALL THE SAILORS
Yes sir.
INTERMEDIARY
Tell radar.
He moves across ship. Then he sits and drinks from his glass.
SOMEONE (VO)
A boat is coming.
The intermediary takes a microphone.
INTERMEDIARY
A boat is coming. Prepare the reception.
He lights up his pipe, while the sailors move around the ship as a boat approaches amidst the roar of the sea.
The intermediary walks across the ship to greet the newcomers.
CUT TO
EXT. SHIP- NIGHT
After the small boat docks, men and women jump into the ship and stand in front of the intermediary.
NEWCOMERS (All together)
National Liberation Army.
They disperse around the ship as a bearded man who seems to have more authority, stands by the intermediary.
CUT TO
More people come to greet the intermediary as they arrive.
NEWCOMERS (All together)
National Liberation Army.
The bearded man takes off his hat, while doing a military salute and spitting on the floor.
BEARDED MAN
X- Bombs automatic battalion is ready for its secret mission of economic
character.
INTERMEDIARY
Thank you.
BEARDED MAN
Attention!
The men assume a formal position.
BEARDED MAN
Rest.
They all relax.
INTERMEDIARY
You’re in the presence of someone who agrees with your ideas. Hurrah to
freedom.
EVERYBODY
Hurrah!
The intermediary hugs the bearded man, offering him a cigar as the other people sit around the floor.
INTERMEDIARY
You’ll receive the arms tomorrow night. We have been there a few times as we are
idealists.
.
BEARDED MAN
We have everything ready. The bosses authorise me to give you 28,000 dollars.
INTERMEDIARY (Calling aloud)
Atenagoras! Atenagoras.
CUT TO
EXT. SHIP- EVENING
A little bald man with a wallet under his left arm takes off his glasses, before saluting the intermediary.
ATENAGORAS
Do you want something Mr. Intermediary?
INTERMEDIARY
Show me the papers of these revolutionary men.
Atenagoras sits next to the intermediary and the bearded man, who looks through the papers in his wallet after putting his glasses on.
INTERMEDIARY
I want to offer you something to show my admiration and solidarity…
The bearded man stands up.
BEARDED MAN
We’re on a mission here. We don’t accept anything.
INTERMEDIARY
This is a disinterested help, Mr. Revolutionary.
BEARDED MAN
Mr. Intermediary, tell me how much we owe you. We are not beggars.
INTERMEDIARY
You must forgive me. I only have the best intentions in the world.
BEARDED MAN
Thank you.
Atenagoras takes off his glasses.
ATENAGORAS
Tonight you must give us the sum of 28,000…
He puts his glasses on again and looks at the paper, following the writing with his finger.
ATENAGORAS
…And 835 dollars.
BEARDED MAN
You’re mistaken. I only have to give 28,300 dollars.
INTERMEDIARY
Let’s not fight for such a stupid thing.
He looks at Atenagoras.
INTERMEDIARY
Write a receipt for whatever money he says.
The bearded man opens his shirt and takes out a roll of dollars.
BEARDED MAN
Thank you. Here is your money,
INTERMEDIARY
Count the money, my dear Atenagoras.
The bald employee stars to count the money.
INTERMEDIARY
Idealism is something beautiful. Someone goes out at night, with so much money but
only thinks of his glorious work.
BEARDED MAN
We’re revolutionaries.
INTERMEDIARY
They’re also men.
BEARDED MAN
No one is a man here.
INTERMEDIARY
What do you mean?
BEARDED MAN
We’re bombs.

INTERMEDIARY
I understand less than before.
BEARDED MAN
It’s the last tactic discovered by the heroes in Vietnam. Our battalion is made up of
walking bombs. We don’t need a canon to shoot them as they’re auto guided and
explode in the most convenient place.
INTERMEDIARY
It’s a novelty. I had not thought of that idea.
BEARDED MAN
Our fight is our life. We’re the soldiers of the revolution.
INTERMEDIARY
Sorry but I’m nervous. Can I drink an aguardiente?
BEARDED MAN
Of course you can.
INTERMEDIARY
You should do the same thing. It calms the nerves.
BEARDED MAN
Alcohol is only good for rich people.
INTERMEDIARY
I’m a progressive rich.
BEARDED MAN
We understand, Mr. Intermediary. You can drink as much as you want to. It’s not
your fault. You are controlled by your powerful masters.
INTERMEDIARY
I’d like to be in your place, but my spirit is weak.
As he claps his hands, a sailor appears. The intermediary mutters something to the man.
BEARDED MAN
Our leaders’ plans will liberate us from the oppressors.
INTERMEDIARY
I had never imagined so much strength.
BEARDED MAN
Don’t forget that the fight is just starting.
Someone from the NLA itches his leg.
INTERMEDIARY
My God! Be careful, young man. You can blow yourself up.
BEARDED MAN
Don’t worry Mr. Intermediary. Drink an aguardiente.
After a sailor comes in with bottles, glasses and soda, the intermediary pours a drink for himself and Atenagoras, who is counting his money. Then he drinks it in a gulp.
INTERMEDIARY
I’m sorry, Mr. Revolutionary but I belong to the hated rich. We can’t cope with so
much idealism.
BEARDED MAN
Atenagoras is counting your idealism.
INTERMEDIARY
We are just slaves while others are the masters.
BEARDED MAN
It’s the exploitation of man by man.
Atenagoras stops counting the dollars.
ATENAGORAS
You mean that man exploits himself.
BEARDED MAN
Isn’t it funny?

ATENAGORAS
I don’t believe in that.
INTERMEDIARY
You count your dollars.
BEARDED MAN
Don’t you want a demonstration?
INTERMEDIARY
No, I don’t.
BEARDED MAN
It sounds good to me. We could try our system in the sea.
INTERMEDIARY
Please, Mr. Revolutionary. I can’t swim but I’ll give you your money back.
BEARDED MAN
Be calm, Mr. Intermediary. Nobody’s going to do anything. We wouldn’t think in wasting our ammunitions after our negotiations.
INTERMEDIARY
I always knew you were noble.
He drinks three aguardientes. Atenagoras stops counting the money.
ATENAGORAS
Everything seems to be OK.
He writes in a paper and signs it. The intermediary also signs it.
INTERMEDIARY
Tomorrow you’ll have your arms in the place we agreed. We always keep our
promises.
BEARDED MAN
You must keep your word.
Atenagoras gestures to the NLA members.
ATENAGORAS
What happened to the test of the bombs?
BEARDED MAN
I’m thinking about it.
INTERMEDIARY
But Mr. Revolutionary, this is not a warship.
BEARDED MAN
I want to try something.
INTERMEDIARY
I beg you, sir.
BEARDED MAN
Nothing will happen to your ship.
ATENAGORAS
Let them test their weapons, Mr. Intermediary.
The bearded man mutters something,
BEARDED MAN
You’ll witness military manoeuvres but nothing will happen to you. .
INTERMEDIARY
Do you want to lose one bomb?
BEARDED MAN
You’re a rich terrorist like your boss in his ship. The real revolutionary must live for
the revolution and I want to show you a submarine fight.

He moves towards the human bombs.
BEARDED MAN
I want a bomb with small charge to shoot a submarine. Number eight, what charge do
you have?
A man stands up.
NUMBER EIGHT
I have four kilograms, my lieutenant.
BEARDED MAN
And number six?
One of the men sitting at the table raises his hand.
NUMBER SIX
I’m three and a half with incorporated ammunition.
BEARDED MAN
I need a small bomb without ammunition. Stand up.
Number six stands up. He’s a skinny man, who looks like a child
NUMBER SIX
I’m three kilos without the ammunition, my lieutenant.
The bearded man looks at the intermediary.
BEARDED MAN
You must sail as fast as possible. Can you understand me?
INTERMEDIARY
Why?
BEARDED MAN
The explosion might send us to the bottom of the sea.
INTERMEDIARY
What explosion?
The bearded man gestures towards the young man.
BEARDED MAN
That explosion.
INTERMEDIARY
I see a man.
BEARDED MAN
Make this ship go fast or I’ll explode it in your face, stupid rich man.
The intermediary says a few things to the sailors as the motor groans and the wind blows over the bombs. The intermediary wipes his brow.
BEARDED MAN
What’s the speed?
INTERMEDIARY
Fifteen knots.
BEARDED MAN
Is that all?
ATENAGORAS
We’ll go at fifty kilometres per hour in ten minutes.
BEARDED MAN
Is this a joke?
INTERMEDIARY
We have to go into the open sea first.
BEARDED MAN
When will it be?
ATENAGORAS
It should be in half an hour.
The bearded man looks at the young man.
BEARDED MAN
You can rest for now.
The young man sits down.
BEARDED MAN
I need a life jacket.

ATENAGORAS
We have several kinds of life jackets.
BEARDED MAN
Can I see them?
The intermediary calls a sailor while sipping his drink.
INTERMEDIARY
Bring the life jackets.
ATENAGORAS
How will the manoeuvre be, my lieutenant?
BEARDED MAN
The bomb will float in the sea and will explode when the ship gets near it.
ATENAGORAS
I thought you wanted manoeuvres under the sea.
BEARDED MAN
This is what it is.
ATENAGORAS
Submarines go under the sea.
BEARDED MAN
He’ll swim over the surface, anything wrong with it?
ATENAGORAS
Very well.
BEARDED MAN
You don’t understand me but I’ll explain it with a graphic.
CUT TO
EXT SHIP- NIGHT
The bearded man writes something on a notebook.
A few sailors arrive with the life jackets and wait for the bearded man to finish with his plans while the intermediary and Atenagoras drink aguardiente. The din of the motors indicates they’re moving fast.
ATENAGORAS
Excuse me lieutenant but the life jackets have arrived.
The bearded man examines one by one the different kinds of life jackets. Then he offers a life jacket to the young man.
BEARDED MAN
Attention.
The young man stands up and puts the life jacket on.
BEARDED MAN
The life jacket is very good. Can I have the reference?
A sailor gives one to the bearded man, who writes something down in his notebook.
INTERMEDIARY
Why don’t we give the young man a glass of aguardiente? He might feel less nervous.
BEARDED MAN
Do you think he’s a nun?
ATENAGORAS
The sea is cold at this time.
BEARDED MAN
He’ll get wet for about four minutes.
The bearded man gestures to the young man with the bomb.
BEARDED MAN
On reaching the railings, you jump after I count up to three but you must wait for my
signal before igniting the bomb. Do you understand?


NUMBER SIX
Yes, lieutenant.
BEARDED MAN
Can you repeat what I’ve just said?
NUMBER SIX
At the count of three, I go to the railings and then I jump into the sea. I wait for
your signal before igniting the bomb.
BEARDED MAN
Get ready.
Number six moves to the railings.
ATENAGORAS
Can you do the same thing without a bomb, lieutenant?
BEARDED MAN
How else could I do it?
ATENAGORAS
You can throw the life jacket into the sea.
EARDED MAN
If you keep on interfering, I’ll send you instead.
INTERMEDIARY
Excuse me, lieutenant but the life jacket cots money. I’m responsible for it.
BEARDED MAN
How much is it?
INTERMEDIARY
Two dollars.
The bearded man searches in his pockets. He throws two dollars on the table.
BEARDED MAN
Is the ship going fast?
SAILOR
Yes, lieutenant.
The bearded man gestures at bomb number six.
BEARDED MAN
Get ready.
Everyone is quiet as the motor groans.
The bearded man looks at his watch.
BEARDED MAN
One, two and three!
Number six jumps into the water. Four minutes pass as everyone looks at the sea. The bearded man holds the signal gun.
CUT TO
EXT. SHIP- NIGHT
The bearded man shoots his gun to the sky and a red light fills the scene, as everything acquires purple tones. They only hear the roaring motor.
BEARDED MAN
He must have gone to sleep!
ATENAGORAS
He must have drowned.
BEARDED MAN
Was the life jacket faulty?
INTERMEDIARY
I can assure you, it’s as good as new.
BEARDED MAN
Let’s find that bastard.
The intermediary gives orders to the sailors and the boat slows down.

BEARDED MAN
Let’s go back.
INTERMEDIARY
It could blow up near us.
BEARDED MAN
You’ll have to swim.
After the intermediary shouts instructions, the ship goes back. Everybody looks at the sea as the intermediary and Atenagoras pour aguardiente in their glasses.
CUT TO
EXT. SHIP- NIGHT
They hear a voice through the microphone.
VOICE
We’re very close to the place.
As the ship stops everyone mutters and then something floats in the sea. The life jacket looks orange in the light of a battery operated torch.
NUMBER SIX
I’m here, my lieutenant. The bomb didn’t explode.
A sailor brings a microphone to the bearded man.
BEARDED MAN
Number six, can you hear me?
NUMBER SIX
Yes, lieutenant.
BEARDED MAN
We’re going to destroy you.
NUMBER SIX
Yes, lieutenant.
.The bearded man shoots his gun several times.
BEARDED MAN
Can you hear me, number six?
NUMBER SIX
Yes, sir. I’ve been wounded in my legs and chest.
BEARDED MAN
We’ll use another method.
He looks at the people in the ship.
BEARDED MAN
We can’t leave him there, if the body is found by the reactionaries, we’ll be dead.
I need a low charge. Two kilograms should be enough.
SAILOR
We don’t have one.
A girl stands up and her companions take off ammunition from her brassiere. After counting them, they keep a few and put the rest back in the bra.
SAILOR
She’s ready, my lieutenant.
BEARDED MAN
Now you must revise the equipment.
The men check the wires connected to the girl and she helps them with their job until she’s naked. She has a young and attractive body.
The bearded man looks at the sea.
BEARDED MAN
Number six, can you hear me?
NUMBER SIX
Yes, lieutenant.
BEARDED MAN
How are you?
NUMBER SIX
I’m very bad, lieutenant. I’m hoping to blow up soon.
BEARDED MAN
Don’t worry. Number ten is coming to you in a few minutes.
NUMBER SIX
Thank you, lieutenant.
ATENAGORAS
Why don’t we pick up that young man?
BEARDED MAN
This isn’t your business.
ATENAGORAS
I’ll take him to a hospital.
BEARDED MAN
If you keep on interfering, you’ll end up in hospital.
INTERMEDIARY
Will anything happen to the ship?
BEARDED MAN
No.
INTERMEDIARY
I just wanted to know.
He goes back to the table with Atenagoras. The bearded man gestures at the girl, who is dressed now.
BEARDED MAN
Attention.
She stands in front of him.
BEARDED MAN
You must swim to number six, hug him and ignite the bomb but after we move away
from here. Do you understand?
NUMBER TWENTY
Yes, lieutenant.
The bearded man takes a few dollars out of his pocket and hands them over to the intermediary.
He receives the money as a sailor brings another life jacket. The girl puts the life jacket on and moves towards the railings.
BEARDED MAN
Are you ready?
NUMBER TWENTY
Yes lieutenant.
BEARDED MAN
One, two and three.
The girl jumps into the sea as the motor groans. The ship goes faster while everybody waits.
An explosion goes on in the middle of the darkness, illuminating the ship with a pinkish light.
BEARDED MAN
Mr. Intermediary, let’s go back to base.
INTERMEDIARY
Yes, sir.


Chucho
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT
A sailor moves with a tray full of drinks, at first sight he looks strange, but then he seems even stranger. He has long arms as hairs sprout from under his clothes and he walks with bow legs. He has the face of an ape and wears a sailor’s hat as he moves across the ship and disappears in the shadows.
The waves roar in the background as an old man wearing a suit with many decorations walks across the scene.
He has a big stomach, a wide forehead and wears a pair of glasses, and holds four books under his right arm and three under the other one. He puts them on the floor before sitting on them.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT
Another old gentleman appears, wearing a suit full of decorations. Thin, bold and with a suitcase, he looks at the man sitting on the books.
FAT PROFESSOR
Hi.
THIN PROFESSOR
Why are you sitting on the books?
FAT PROFESSOR
Who?
THIN PROFESSOR
You.
The fat man looks at his feet and nods.
FAT PROFESSOR
Thank you.
He sits on a chair and the thin man sits down on another one as a sailor appears.
THIN PROFESSOR
Can you bring me a table, please?
The sailor disappears through the door.
A middle-aged woman wearing a long dress and with a child in her arms appears. The child wears a small suit with decorations.
WOMAN
Good evening, wise men.
The men kiss her hand and smile at the child.
The hairy sailor puts a small table in front of the thin professor, before leaving the scene.
Homer appears through the door, wearing a suit with decorations. He coughs.
HOMER
I beg your pardon, wise men, for interrupting your thoughts.
They all stand up.
FAT PROFESSOR
I had never seen a ship as luxurious as this one in my life.
THIN PROFESSOR
This is a marvel, dear Homer. That’s the truth.
HOMER
Don’t exaggerate, please.
THIN PROFESSOR
Our words are mathematical formulae.

Homer caresses the child.
HOMER
How is the infant today?
WOMAN
He’s all right. The diarrhoea has stopped.
HOMER
It’s not easy to find three novel prize scientists in a ship like mine.
FAT PROFESSOR
We wanted a trip of pleasure and rest. We have found both of those things
Homer, but you wished to show us something else.
HOMER
I never promised to show you something marvellous. It’s just a bit different. I
didn’t imagine I’d have the famous professor Irwin in my ship.
EVERYBODY
It’s hard to believe it.
HOMER
Professor Irwin’s found the formula of eternal youth. He made a mistake and has
gone back to being a baby.
WOMAN
I have to feed him now.
She opens the front of her dress, showing her teats and breastfeeds the child.
HOMER
He has to grow up, before he tells us where he has left the formula.
FAT PROFESSOR
We couldn’t find the formula in Professor Irwin’s laboratory but I got drunk after
drinking the contents of a bottle with a yellow liquid.
Everybody laughs.
THIN PROFESSOR
Did he tell you about his experiments?
FAT PROFESSOR
We were in constant communication. He started his experiments four years ago.

HOMER
Tell us more about it, please.
FAT PROFESSOR
He had a theory to make humans and animals younger. He told me in his last letter
he had to sort out a few more details before his formula was ready.

The woman puts the child against her shoulders, knocking his back gently.
WOMAN
I never imagined I would be feeding a baby at my age.
HOMER
You’re lucky that it’s your husband.
WOMAN
He likes to eat a lot.
She puts the baby on her other breast.
WOMAN
He wanted to keep the result of his investigations a secret, as medicines for getting
younger every day never work.
THIN PROFESSOR
If they were any good, I should be in my mother’s womb by now.
FAT PROFESSOR
You’re an orphan.
THIN PROFESSOR
I wouldn’t mind any other womb then.
They laugh.
HOMER
We must drink something.
As he claps his hands, the hairy sailor appears.
THIN PROFESSOR
I want a Coca cola
FAT PROFESSOR
I want Coca cola.
WOMAN
I want Coca cola.
HOMER
Why don’t you drink a whisky?
FAT PROFESSOR
It’s bad for my liver.
THIN PROFESSOR
It kills my pancreas.
WOMAN
I can’t drink alcohol while feeding the baby.
HOMER
What about a soft wine?
THIN PROFESSOR
My transverse colon will burst.
FAT PROFESSOR
My kidneys will be affected.
WOMAN
I’ll burst if I don’t drink one.
The hairy sailor bows and disappears through the door.
HOMER
Tell us the story, my dear lady.
WOMAN
That night he put a bottle with a milky liquid on the bedside table. He had a bath
before going to bed and then he drank the liquid.
Darling, he said, have a good look at me, as I have just taken the formula of youth.
I heard a child crying in the early hours of the morning. I called Irwin but no one
answered.
On switching the light on, I saw the child by my side. At first I thought it was a
Joke but then I awoke the maids and we all looked for my husband. The child was
Beautiful and my maternal instincts told me the truth. It was my Irwin. He had the
same birthmarks in the body I knew so well.
FAT PROFESSOR
What did you do with the bottle?
WOMAN
What bottle?
FAT PROFESSOR
I thought he left it on the bedside table.
WOMAN
I had to remember how to look after an infant and forgot about the bottle.
FAT PROFESSOR
You’ll be a millionaire if you find it. You’ve thrown away a fortune.
The hairy sailor comes in with everything they have ordered plus a bottle of whisky and soda for Homer. He bows and leaves.
The child cries as the woman covers her breasts. The baby has done his business on her dress.
WOMAN
I’m sorry! He usually does these things after dinner.
She leaves a wet trail, as she moves away with the child in her arms.
HOMER
The professor worked for many years to get to his goal. He can’t even talk now.
FAT PROFESSOR
He’s breastfed during a discussion with his colleagues, and then he dirties his
nappy.
HOMER
I wonder where the bottle is. Professor Irwin must have drunk too much of the
potion. If he had tested the formula properly, he would have made a fortune.

THIN PROFESSOR
We’ll have to wait until the child talks.
FAT PROFESSOR
Will he remember anything?
HOMER
He’ll collect balls and buy chewing gum.
FAT PROFESSOR
What a waste of time.
HOMER
Think of all the money he could have made.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- EVENING
A sailor appears with a message in a tray. Homer gives instructions to the sailors, after reading it.
HOMER
A helicopter will bring Professor Greer, his wife and Fifi.
THIN PROFESSOR
I like sexy Fifi. Is she bringing the general?
HOMER
He’s busy with a coup at the moment.
THIN PROFESSOR
That man only thinks in revolutions.
FAT PROFESSOR
That’s why Fifi visits Homer.
THIN PROFESSOR
Has Professor Greer married?
HOMER
He was single the last time I saw him. I hope he has married a beautiful girl as
scientists are boring.
FAT PROFESSOR
Women want everything.
THIN PROFESSOR
. You’re right. Science has been my only love up to now.
HOMER
I wish I felt like that. I’m a frustrated scientist.
THIN PROFESSOR
Even though this has been a good meeting, I have to go on studying the angels by the
sea side.
He takes an electronic microscope out of his bag and a small box with beautiful decorations.
THIN PROFESOR
I have the needle touched by baby Jesus’ nappies. You must kneel down on the floor
and pray before I start my research.
They all kneel as the professor places the needle under the microscope. Then they all stand up.
CUT TO
EXT.LUXURIOUS YACHT- EVENING
FAT PROFESSOR
Do you know of my colleague’s work?
HOMER
I have heard about it. He can’t do anything else because of his job.

FAT PROFESSOR
This man is the greatest genius of all time.
HOMER
I’m sure of that.
FAT PROFESSOR
Businessmen have a direct influence on our lives.
HOMER
Yes, of course.
FAT PROFESSOR
This illustrious scientist has been studying angels since his childhood. He used to
dress in a tunic and wings during Christmas time and his pyjama reminds him of them.
Have you seen him sleeping?
HOMER
I haven’t had that honour.
FAT PROFESSOR
He wears a long blue gown, beautiful plastic wings with golden beads and a blond wig
that goes down to his hips. He keeps a golden harp on his bedside table.
HOMER
It’s very interesting. Do you want another coke?
FAT PROFESSOR
All right.
Homer claps his hands and a sailor appears.
HOMER
Bring the professor another coke.
WAITER
Yes, Sir.
The man leaves the scene.
FAT PROFESSOR
After graduating with honours in the theology faculty of Rome, he wrote his thesis in
old Latin. No one can read it, because it’s very old but he won the Novel Prize for his
feat. It’s one of a few books that have not been translated.

The sailor arrives with the coca colas.
HOMER
What does the book say?
FAT PROFESSOR
It has 834 pages, written in verses of ten lines. Nobody knows what it says, until
someone translates it.
HOMER
It’s very interesting.
FAT PROFESSOR
He has won the first prize in the story of science, being a genius must be an illness.
HOMER
That’s obvious to me. Drink your coca cola.
FAT PROFESSOR
He earns 2,500 dollars a month, plus eight hundred dollars for expenses.
HOMER
It’s not much for such an important job.

FAT PROFESSOR
They don’t pay good money to geniuses like us.
HOMER
We’ll have to change that.
FAT PROFESSOR
He has wondered about the sex of angels since his infancy. Are they men or women?
It’s something to weaken the toughest guys.
HOMER
He’s a hero.
FAT PROFESSOR
How can he see an angel? He’s thought about the problem for twenty years and one
day he ran along the streets of Rome shouting: Eureka! Eureka!
HOMER
What does it mean?
FAT PROFESSOR
I don’t know. It’s another one of his fantastic words.
HOMER
What happened then?
The woman appears at this moment. She has changed her clothes and doesn’t have the child.
WOMAN
I’m sorry for interrupting the conversation.
HOMER
Where is the professor?
WOMAN
He’s asleep. He’ll wake up for his next feed in three hours. He’s so beautiful.

EVERYBODY
Bless him.
She looks at the professor working with the microscope.
WOMAN
Our wise man doesn’t belong to this world anymore.
She sits down.
HOMER
Would you like some wine?
WOMAN
It has to be dry.
Homer gives orders to the hairy sailor.
FAT PROFESSOR
I told Homer of the extraordinary things the professor has done.
WOMAN
He has broken all the records with his work.
The thin professor smiles, while looking at his microscope.
THIN PROFESSOR
Thanks.
HOMER
I’ve heard of the moment he ran along the street naked.
WOMAN
Didn’t you know that?
HOMER
I’m sorry, but my business…
WOMAN
It was first page news in all the world papers.

FAT PROFESSOR
L. Clay‘s won his fight for the heavy belt on the same day.
WOMAN
They wrote Eight columns in the first page about the professor nakedness.
FAT PROFESSOR
He was a member of the Pieni Order eight days later.
HOMER
I like that opera.
WOMAN
The Pieni Order is not an opera but a papal decoration.
HOMER
Sorry, I didn’t know.
WOMAN
The Beatles sing operas.
FAT PROFESSOR
Our friend the businessman doesn’t have time for these things.
HOMER
What happened after he went naked?
FAT PROFESSOR
He had found a way to look at the angels.
HOMER
Really?
FAT PROFESSOR
It shows us how the mind works. The professor had to see angels, so he went
to find them.
HOMER
Did he go to heaven?
FAT PROFESSOR
You have to be dead to go to heaven and our professor was alive.
HOMER
How did he do it then?
FAT PROFESSOR
He remembered the nappy of Christ kept in the Corraplitences Monastery. That’s why
he ran naked through the streets.
HOMER
What a man!
FAT PROFESSOR
He took some faecal matter from the nappy, with a needle blessed by the pope. As
he put it under his microscope, he found them.
HOMER
Who did he find?
FAT PROFESSOR
He saw the angels, of course.
HOMER
It’s incredible.
WOMAN
Did you think he had worms?
FAT PROFESSOR
Let’s not have those crazy thoughts. He only saw angels in his microscopic field.
HOMER
What a genius!
FAT PROFESSOR
He wanted to know the angels’ sex, and how many of them could dance on the head of
the needle.
WOMAN
It’s a fascinating topic.
FAT PROFESSOR
As he centred the microscope on the head of the needle, he saw male and female
angels dancing in pairs.
WOMAN
All the honours in the world are not enough for such a genius.
HOMER
Do you want another coca cola?
THIN PROFESSOR
I want a cold one.
FAT PROFESSOR
I also want one.
WOMAN
I want a triple wine.
Homer leaves the scene.
WOMAN
He’s an ignorant man with a heart of gold.
FAT PROFESSOR
He wants to support science.
WOMAN
We’ve talked about that. I’d prefer if someone helps me financially to bring up
Irwin.
THIN PROFESSOR
I want to find a vaccine against sin under his protection, as the present intravenous
one has a few side effects. It doesn’t vanquish the original sin.

FAT PROFESSOR
Under Homer’s protection I want to finish my Donald Duck encyclopaedia.
THIN PROFESSOR
That’s a literary work of the twentieth century. Nothing can compare with it.
FAT PROFESSOR
Thank you.
Homer comes in.
HOMER
I have just spoken with the helicopter Mr. wise men. Professor Greer and Fifi are
about to arrive.
A sailor calls Homer.
HOMER
Excuse me, but I have to get them now.
They’re all busy as Homer leaves. The thin professor is with the microscope, the fat professor reads his Donald Duck collections, while the woman combs her hair. They hear the noise of a helicopter.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT
Homer appears.
HOMER
Professor Greer came without his wife.
FAT PROFESSOR
They are on their honeymoon and perhaps he’s not jealous. Did he come alone?
HOMER
No, he brought a friend.
FAT PROFESSOR
Is it Fifi?
A forty year old man appears accompanied by a young man, wearing light blue jeans, long hair, and a miniskirt over his trousers. Fifi comes behind them wearing a short dress with a low cleavage. She kisses homer in the mouth.
PROFESSOR GREER
This must be a meeting of the seven wise men of Greece.
FAT PROFESSOR
And the eighth one has just arrived.
He looks at Fifi’s voluptuous body.
FAT PROFESSOR
You must be Fifi.
FIFI
I’m glad to meet you.
Fifi’s dress goes up as she hugs the little man while the thin professor looks through the microscope.
THIN PROFESSOR
I think the greatest financier of all times has just arrived.
HOMER
My dear professor Greer, make yourself at home, or in your own ship.
They hug each other. Mrs. Irwin kisses Greer while the young man fiddles with his earring. Then Fifi hugs Mrs. Irwin.
WOMAN
I’ve seen your picture in the papers.
THIN PROFESSOR
The papers only talk about her life and ignore everything else in the country.
FIFI
I’m not so important.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHR- NIGHT
PROFESSOR GREER
I married before coming to the ship and this is my wife Ferny. We’re on our
honeymoon.

Ferny shakes hands with everyone and sits next to Greer.
HOMER
I thought he was your friend.
PROFESSOR GREER
He’s my wife. Marriage between men is common now, as you know.
FAT PROFESSOR
It’s accepted in most countries of the world.
Professor Greer hugs Ferny.
PROFESSOR GREER
I adore you.
The couple kiss and hug each other as Fifi leads Homer away from the scene.
INT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
Fifi passes an arm around Homer’s shoulders.
FIFI
I have missed you.
HOMER
How’s the general?
Fifi licks his ear.
FIFI
He’s fighting his wars as usual.
HOMER
Let’s have sex.
FIFI
You haven’t changed.
Fifi caresses his chest.
As she fiddles with his trousers, Chucho appears by their side.
CHUCHO
The drinks are ready, Mr. Homer.
Fifi straightens her clothes.
HOMER
Chucho, I didn’t ask you to come in.
CHUCHO
I did knock first, Mr. Homer.
HOMER
Chucho, have you ever been to the jungle?
CHUCHO
I lived in Leticia for a few months, Mr. Homer.
Homer finds the manuscript inside a wardrobe.
HOMER
I want you to look at these pages.
Chucho takes the manuscripts.
CHUCHO
I’ll do that later, Mr. Homer.
Chucho leaves with the manuscripts.
INT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
Homer and Fifi lay next to each other on a bed by the window, where they see the blue sea.
FIFI
Can I suck it?
Homer sits on the bed.
FIFI
I love you more than anything on earth.
He opens his trousers.
HOMER
You must be joking.
She goes on top of him, putting his cock between her legs, as he moves his hips up and down.

EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT
Ferny and Professor Greer are in each other’s arms.
WOMAN
Love is a wonderful thing. I was like that with Irwin.
FERNY
This is my first and last love.
He presses a tiny handkerchief against his heart and then straightens his miniskirt.
Greer kisses him.
HOMER
Let’s drink to this couple’s happiness.
Fifi plays with his hair.
FIFI
What about our happiness?
She rests her head on his chest.
HOMER
We’ll talk about that later.
THIN PROFESSOR
I’ve finished with my observations for today.
The thin professor picks up his equipment and puts it in his bag, bowing in front of the needle before touching it.

INT. LUXUROUS YACHT- NIGHT
HOMER
We’re on our way to Gibraltar.
PROFESSOR GREER
Hurrah to our host.
EVERYBODY
Hurrah!
HOMER
Let’s see. The professors want coca cola and the lady wants dry wine but what
about you, Professor Greer?
PROFESSOR GREER
I want dry Jamaican rum.
HOMER
And what does Ferny want?
FERNY
I want sweet wine in rose water. Everything else gives me a headache.
PROFESSOR GREER
He’s as delicate as a flower.
HOMER
He looks like a plastic flower.
FERNY
I can’t drink anything strong. I have a weak stomach.
Homer turns to Fifi.

HOMER
Do you want gin and soda?
FIFI
Yes, and with a slice of lemon in it.
They all come to the table, except Ferny, who applies his makeup. Homer serves the coca colas while Professor Greer pours himself a large glass of rum. Fifi opens a bottle of gin.
THIN PROFESSOR
Professor Greer, don’t you feel sick with that drink?
FERNY
He’s a strong man. I adore him.
PROFESSORGREER
They’re bringing you a sweet wine, dissolved in water of yellow flowers.
FERNY
Thank you, my treasure.
HOMER
Professor Greer, we have here the best men of science. They’ll take charge of my
Philanthropic Foundation.
PROFESSOR GREER
Dear ladies and gentlemen, I’m an assessor of Homer’s financial business as he’s a
maestro of finances.
HOMER
Thank you. Professor Greer will explain the problem, so that you know what to do.
Professor Greer drinks his rum.
PROFESSOR GREER
Homer is an economic giant. We have decided to start the Philanthropic Society
to help the greatest men of science. You’ll get one million dollars a year for your
activities but we want to donate that money to you instead of giving it to the tax.
A million dollars a year is a lot of money, and Homer wants a small favour. You’ll
Give us five millions in exchange for the million.
This is a better way for you to use your capital. Homer keeps his money while
evading taxes and helping science.
THIN PROFESSOR
Five million dollars for only one million is a lot of money.
FAT PROFESSOR
I agree with you.
WOMAN
I also agree.
As Homer and Professor Greer talk in a low voice, Ferny looks at Fifi.
FERNY
Where did you buy your dress?
FIFI
I made it myself.
FERNY
It’s beautiful. I must learn to make my own clothes.
FIFI
I can teach you whenever you want.
FERNY
Thank you.
PROFESSOR GREER
Homer’s generosity doesn’t have a name. He only wants one million and two
hundred thousand dollars.
THIN PROFESSOR
We’ll give him fifty thousand dollars more.
HOMER
I accept it from such distinguished wise men.
They all applaud as Professor Greer takes a few documents out of his bag.
PROFESSOR GREER
You must sign these papers now.
They all sign the documents.
THIN PROFESSOR
I’ll call my vaccine Angelic Homer.
HOMER
Thank you.
FAT PROFESSOR
I’ll dedicate my book to you.
HOMER
Thank you.
WOMAN
Irwin will call you father.
FERNY
You’re a dangerous man.
FIFI
I’ll love you forever.
WOMAN
What is the surprise?
HOMER
I had forgotten about that. Excuse me for a moment.
He leaves the scene.
FERNY
What a wonderful man.
FIFI
He’s my hero.
WOMAN
He’s a real Mecenas.
FERNY
What’s that, my dear?
THIN PROFESSOR
He was a man who used to give things to people.
FERNY
How boring.
WOMAN
I thought he had been a Greek emperor.
FAT PROFESSOR.
Charlemagne was the Greek Emperor.
WOMAN
I was never good in geography.
FIFI
I hate maths.
FERNY
I’m also like that. I still don’t know what Christopher Columbus did.
THIN PROFESSOR
He discovered penicillin.
FAT PROFESSOR
Don’t confuse him with Gagarin. He discovered the moon.
FERNY
Was it the full moon?

THIN PROFESSOR
No, it was the honeymoon.
FERNY
I forbid you to talk about that.
FIFI
Professor Greer is Gagarin then.
Professor Greer looks drunk.
PROFESSOR GREER
Excuse me. I don’t like to gargle.
FIFI
It isn’t Gargarin but Gagarin.
PROFESSOR GREER
Is that a medication for the flu?
FERNY
No honey, he’s the discoverer of the moon.
Homer arrives with Chucho.
HOMER
I want to introduce Chucho to these prominent scientists.
The sailor bows.
HOMER
Chucho must be a surprise for my scientists. Greet my guests properly Chucho.

The sailor shakes hands with everyone.
CHUCHO
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It’s a pleasure for me to serve you.
They applaud.

HOMER
You can ask him questions.
THIN PROFESSOR
Can you tell us something about the first football championship?
CHUCHO
It was played in Montevideo, Paraguay from the 13 of June to the 31 of July 1930.
Argentina won over the United States in the semi final. It was 6- 1. Uruguay bit
Yugoslavia 6- 1. Uruguay bit Argentina in the final game, 6- 2.
EVERYBODY
Unbelievable!
FAT PROFESSOR
Who was the chess champion in 1926?
CHUCHO
Jose Raul Casablanca.
HOMER
Who won the boxing championship in the same year?
CHUCHO
Jack Dempsey.
EVERYBODY
AHHHHHHHH!
FERNY
Tell me who won the Derby at Epsom in 1956?

CHUCHO
Lavandin.
PROFESSOR GREER
What is the square and cubic root of 1.085?
CHUCHO
The square root is 32.94, and the cubic root is 10.28.
FERNY
What is the highest mountain in the world?
CHUCHO
Mount Everest. It is 8.848 meters high.
FERNEY
How tiring!
PROFESSOR GREER
You don’t have a sailor here, but a calculator.
FAT PROFESSOR
He’s marvellous.
THIN PROFESSOR
He should be in the Academy of Science.
HOMER
Thank you very much, Chucho. You can go now.
Chucho bows.
CHUCHO
Yes, Sir.
Chucho leaves the scene.
HOMER
What do you think about him?
EVERYBODY
He’s a genius.
THIN PROFESSOR
Where did you find such a brain?

FAT PROFESSOR
He should be the director of the Academy of science.
FERNY
He’s as intelligent as he’s ugly.
FIFI
He has sex appeal.
THIN PROFESSOR
He could be from anywhere in the world.
PROFESSOR GREER
I can’t believe he’s so intelligent.
FERNY
They say ugly men are very clever. It must have a limit.
THIN PROFESSOR
He has passed the limit in this case. That face has a price.
PROFESSOR GREER
It’s a contrast with Ferny’s beauty. It is beauty and the beast.
FAT PROPHESOR
He reminds me of a film.
FERNY
Don’t go on talking or I’ll faint.
A sailor comes in with a glass on a tray.
PROFESSOR GREER
Here is your drink.
FERNY
I want my water of yellow flowers.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- EVENING
HOMER
Do you think Chucho is super intelligent?
EVERYBODY
Yes.
HOMER
Chucho is a chimpanzee.
EVERYBODY
What?????
FAT PROFESSOR
A chimpanzee?
THIN PROFESSOR
A chimpanzee?
PROFESSOR GREER
A chimpanzee?
WOMAN
A chimpanzee?
FIFI
I believe you, my darling.
FERNEY
He’s a chimp. How boring!
HOMER
Here comes Chucho again.
The sailor appears wearing a swimming costume. He is a chimpanzee, who shaves his face in the morning like anyone else. Ferny faints in Professor Greer’s arms.
FAT PROFESSOR
It must be the devil.
HOMER
You can go now, Chucho.
Chucho leaves the scene after vowing.
PROFESSOR GREER
Where did you find such a genius?
FIFI
He might be an Antioqueno in disguise.
HOMER.
He’s a chimpanzee and he’s at your disposition if you want to study him. He
works for nothing and likes to eat soap after blowing bubbles.

PROFESSOR GREER
It isn’t bad. He works for a box of soap a day. Have you offered him aguardiente?

HOMER
He doesn’t like the smell.
THIN PROFESSOR
Who is the author of such a phenomenon?
FAT PROFESSOR
It’s an attempt against human dignity.
HOMER
His owner is a Colombian man called Mario. He sold Chuchu for very little
money.

PROFESSOR GREER
How much was it?
HOMER
He only charged $85,000 dollars.
WOMAN
Is he healthy?
HOMER
He’s examined every year at Rochester.
THIN PROFESSOR
Does he bite?
HOMER
He’s harmless.
FIFI
Can he make love?
FAT PROFESSOR?
It’s too much money for a monkey.
HOMER
I can arrange exhibitions all over the world.

FAT PROFESSOR
Why don’t you do it?
HOMER
I promised Miguel I wouldn’t do that. Chucho’s very useful here.
PROFESSOR GREER
Homer knows about business.
FERNY
I want more sangria with water of rose petals.


Chucho’s story
Mr. Homer
I used to work for you a long time ago. If you have patience, I’ll tell you how I met the wise man, who trained Chucho, but I won’t charge you a single dollar for the service. Congratulations!
It isn’t strange that your wise men did not feel any admiration for Chucho. I believe wise men are like the extinguished dinosaurs because they used to weight many tons but had small brains. I belong to the crazy minority who doesn’t want to waste life. We mustn’t cry for an inexistent future as the day has twenty four hours and a million moments to enjoy. It has no dividends.
Once upon a time, after you had left us with the shop, I accepted Jaramillo’s offer of LSD. He had brought it from Europe, where aristocrats used it to go to the stars. I can only remember the colours with the transparency of a cloud and the softness of a young woman, while travelling through the solar system, but we didn’t go any further than Jupiter. The universe we saw might not conform to Copernicus or Galileo’s ideas of cosmology we all learn in the school. That is why I’ll never forget the experience of rushing through the ether at unknown speeds.
“Where are we?” I asked on waking up amidst some bushes with spines rather than leaves, my body hurt while a small airplane glistened in the sun.
It had to be real. Jaramillo threw earth on my face, a rude way to show we had landed in the jungle, as a cold wind made me shiver but we didn’t find anything useful inside the wreckage of the plane.
“We have no aguardiente,” Jaramillo said.
It had to be a tragedy. On following a small river in its way to nowhere, we thought we had been in the small plane, although none of us could fly these things. Apart from the small river, we didn’t find anyone else.
After looking at the stars we found ourselves at twenty degrees longitude north and twenty two west. It was day time and that fact made our observations a bit difficult. The small river led us to a bigger one, and on following that one, we found a very big river. Two days later we moved by the shores of a huge river.
As we moved through a mountain, we seldom saw any buildings with the exception of a few Hilton Hotels. Then we arrived at a small town, inhabited by nice people, but on getting nearer, we saw the town inhabited by rude people. The campesinos (10) confused us with trouble makers because of our beards and some marihuana we had in our pockets. After shooting their guns three times, they killed two chickens of a heart attack, and cooked them in a sancocho (11) The town had been built around an idiot called patepiña his right foot had elephantiasis and his left foot had mamustiasis.
We met the potatoes queen on our arrival at the place.
“I’ll feel your balls for a few pesos,” she said.
“That’s my job,” the arepa queen said.
I let them feel inside my pants behind some bushes for a few moments, when the arepa queen without salt sucked my cock, while the queens of sausages and beans, green cheese, white cheese, cheese spread, free plantain, kumis, marmalade, yellow fever, rice and mazato (12) waited for their turn.
“We want some money,” they said.
I nodded. “I believe you.”
I had been there for some time, when Jaramillo appeared in front of me followed by one of the girls.
“We couldn’t find you,” he said.
“I’ve been having some fun,” I said.
The mazato queen looked at him with a few pesos in her hand, before making her way to the hall, where the major spoke about the town to the campesinos.
“Don’t you have some spare clothes?” I interrupted his speech.
He sent us to the priest, who had to crown the queen of the jungle in another party a few streets away.
“You must enjoy the party,” he said.
We didn’t feel happy in our dirty clothes, while he crowned a few more girls. I then crowned the queen of the mini skirt, elected from 250 competitors around the region.
“Come with me behind the hut,” I pointed to something on the other side of the courtyard.
“That’s Miss Lola’s house,” she said.
I took her virginity behind some bushes where a few rats hid on hearing us and the party went on in the courtyard.
“Who is there?” a woman’s voice interrupted my pleasure.
“That’s Miss Lola,” the girl said.
She ran away from my arms, leaving a trail of blood all along the mud until she disappeared amidst the public. On leaving the bushes, I saw a small woman waiting by the entrance to the house.
“I was lost,” I said.
“I have heard that excuse before.”
“It’s the truth,” I said.
“You must be responsible for the baby.”
“What baby?”
Taking me inside the place, she offered me some of her husband’s clothes while covering her nose.
“You must have a shower first,” she said.
Then she told me she had been the queen only of the onion, the black bean, the coffee, the curuba (14) and the peanut. The elderly teacher only wore three of the crowns on her head, the base of her skull collapsing under the weight. Every seventh of August she helped to recreate the battle of Boyaca (15) but sometimes the Spaniards won the battle. As she showed me the school building, I saw the first stone someone had placed there in 1922. The children had their classes in the field, sitting on the grass next to the stone.
At first they told her she could have children of both sexes. After a detailed analysis, she realised that the normal thing was to have boys and girls, and two years later they gave her permission for the school. She has worked in the town ever since. They had an old bus, the pride of the town, and it took them to the next town where the train went past. Jaramillo joined us, looking healthy after cavorting with a few of the queens in need of money.
The healthy mountain air made us feel strong, as we drank more aguardiente but the people looked unhappy when we told them the president was the same one. The doctor, his bald head under a straw hat, wore a heavy poncho and sandals in his feet like everyone else in the town. As we drank aguardiente, he told us about the parties they had in the town hall, where everyone vomited under the palm trees by the entrance.
I smiled. “It must be horrible.”
He could diagnose people’s illness by their vomits, even if the bad diets made him sick. Aguardiente had become their main meal during the day while the night robbed them of their sanity in an alcohol induced limbo. He invited us to sleep in his house by the park and the barmaid smiled at us. I wanted to take her behind the bar to touch her pubis, but the doctor kept on talking about his life.
“This is the best place in the world,” the doctor said.
I believed him, even if I couldn’t do anything to the girl. Later that night we went into the doctor’s house while singing the Marseilles. It looked like a palace as he took us to our rooms in another part of the building. It had been built it during the conquest, and before all the beauty queens had been born.
“This is your bed,” he said.
I saw a four poster bed, amidst an old room, filled up with reminders of the past, while the pictures of a few conquistadors looked at us from the walls. They must have been the only visitors to the town for some time, I thought, lying under the net to stop the mosquitoes dining in my body. I dreamt of Homer leading me to apocalypse as something cold went over my nose. On opening my eyes, I found myself in the middle of the park.
“Ha, ha, ha,” someone said. “Margarita woke you up.”
I saw a big parrot laughing, while a snake slithered over my body. The parrot said:
“She should bite your bottom.”
I ran amongst the bushes surrounding the big patio but tripped on a turtle, as a bear went running under my legs, a monkey offered me a banana and the parrot started to sing an opera. I ate some fruit next to a fat iguana hunting for flies on a stone. Then my friend jumped out of a window chased by a tiger while the parrot laughed. A man wearing underpants greeted us by a big house.
“I’m the doctor,” he said.
I nodded. “I remember.”
He spoke to the animals in their own language. It had to be the Indian curse like Homer had told me many times in the market. Then I met a nice caiman, who served as a table in the toilet but had been dead for some time. Chucho –the monkey- brought me breakfast.
I’ll give you a few fragmented details of the story the doctor told us afterwards. I’m sorry if I’m too long but I want to tell you everything. My friend had a colleague with son who was a doctor, a nice trick of nature. It had been one of those things. Nothing else like that had happened in the family, apart from an uncle who had been the helper at court.
The man died before his son had his degree and started to study dead people. The doctor didn’t eat much to pay for the university, but after graduating, he practiced in a hospital, where he had dinner for the first time. The future was not good as he had to find a job, that’s the only way doctors can live up to the day they die. He had to live in the present now.
He went to see the health minister after earning his title but the lift didn’t work and had to go up nine floors. The secretary had forgotten her keys downstairs, asking for our friend to get them. The girl had left a message for him to come back at three o’clock by the time he got upstairs. As he found the office shut at that time, he came back two months later, when the lift had been repaired after the education minister had collapsed with a stroke because of all the stairs he had to climb.
They told him that the minister of war might need a doctor, while someone put him in contact with an architect Perez, living in Barranquilla and the president of the society for the protection of yellow beetles. Our doctor found the man on the beach, crying next to the body of a dead beetle.
“We need doctors in a town in the central cordillera,” the architect said.
A few days later the doctor arrived at the station, carrying a suitcase with a blood pressure monitor, a stethoscope and a small syringe. He also had his degree documents.
“Can I have a ticket for station X?” he said to the girl in the ticket window.
The ticket seller looked at him up and down. Then she did the same but down and up.
“You must be joking,” she said while cleaning her nails.
The doctor shrugged. “But I need a ticket for X.”
“Are you serious?” the girl asked.
“Yes, I’m.”
She went inside the office and came back a few moments later accompanied by two fat men and a skinny one. Two women came behind them.
“There he is,” the girl said.
One of the fat men removed his glasses before confronting the young man.
“Do you know about the punishment for jokers?” he asked.
“You must be ashamed of yourself,” one of the women said.
The other fat man frowned: “What a terrible thing.”
“I don’t understand,” the doctor said.
“You must come with me,” the fat man said.
After passing several offices, they entered a big room where a few men sat around a big table and the one with more authority said:
“Tell me young man, why do you want to go to that town?”
“They don’t have any doctors in the next town,” the doctor replied.
“Why do you hate doctors?”
“No, sir,” the young man said. “I’m a doctor.”
“But you want to live in town X.”
The doctor shook his head. “I’ll live in the next town.”
“Look, young man. I’ve been working in the trains for 34 years and this is the first time someone goes to town X. That town only has 17 people, why are you going there?”
“I want to go to the next town,” the doctor said.
The fat man talked to his colleagues.
“This young man has the most unusual ideas,” he said. “Can we give him a job at our offices?”
“I’m a doctor,” our man said.
“You must have a real job.”
The doctor shrugged. “I know a bit of medicine.”
“Do you own a bicycle?” the first speaker asked.
“I can’t ride it”
The fat man grinned. “You are useless.”
“Sell me the ticket to the town then.”
“We’re giving you a free train ticket to the town plus a hand grenade,” the first man said. “You must explode it on getting near the town.”
They gave him the ticket and the grenade, before he waited in the platform for the train to arrive, where the children ran around the pillars full of posters while their mothers talked to each other. The doctor clutched his packet with trembling hands, expecting it to explode at any time. He had to think of his future in that remote town lost in the mountains, where no one ever went.
“It’s the train,” one of the children said.
The doctor saw the smoke rising to the sky, before the noise of the engine disturbed the peaceful afternoon. He boarded one of the middle carriages, hoping his bomb would behave well.
“It’s a hard life,” he muttered to himself.
A woman breastfeeding a baby looked at him with apprehension, as if guessing his real intentions. The doctor waited for some time, wondering if any of the towns in the distance would be his destination, when the voice in the microphone disturbed his thoughts. He had to do his job now. Taking the bomb with trembling hands, the doctor threw it out of the window, where it exploded with a loud bang amidst the chaos in the carriage.
The e4xplosion had derailed the train, killing three chickens and a few neurosurgeons, who worked in the rail company. As our doctor arrived at the town, he met the priest, the owner of the pharmacy, and Miss Lola, who knew all about injections.
Mr. Procolo, the richest man in town took him to his own home. It was an urgent business and the other people had other things to do, so he asked the new arrival for his help. A pregnant sow would have died if the doctor had not been at the delivery, and he became the best doctor of pigs in the region. Mr. Procolo consented for his daughter to live with him and all kinds of animals. His wife was one of them as she wasn’t very intelligent.
The doctor inherited the pigs, the house and his wife when the old man died a few years later. He made his anti Edison investigations at this time of his life, enough for our hero to get condemned to the electric chair, the chamber of gases or to go around Marquetalia forever.
Our towns don’t have schools, hospitals, health centres, toilets or clean water. The only water running through them is smelly and dirty but they have millions of transistors infecting the streets with rancheras twenty five hours a day. The priest puts four giant speakers on the church tower. If the ones in the café in the corner, or in the café with no corner are not working, his highness switches his music on. The smallest and sickest town in Colombia makes more noise than a dormitory of Maristas brothers after their Christmas supper.
Our country has thousands of radio stations for square mile and each one of them has two programs: popular music and commercials. We have to hear five hundred radio stations of popular music and five hundred of commercials, even though some of us do not have a radio. This had been the greatness of his discovery. Then the doctor brought me a small machine made by him.
“Switch it on,” he said.
I wanted to crash it against his glasses, but the tiger licking my feet stopped me. As I switched it on, I experienced a wonderful sensation. The voice of the priest offering the next tango to the president of the daughters of Maria was erased, leaving no sounds in the air. The anti Edison man had invented the anti transistor.
I can’t describe the sensation of hearing absolutely nothing. I asked his permission to lick his other shoe, instead of the tiger. It didn’t stop there. Just as he had found a way to prevent radio waves, he had managed to tame all kinds of animals. Our scientist decided we were animals as he didn’t believe in Gods, souls or angels. Men were made of matter. He did experiments with animals teaching them conditional reflexes. They had to open traps after acoustic or luminous signals, where they found, food, water or electric shocks. The animals learned to find their food avoiding the electric shocks after a few sessions.
He sacrificed one of the animals and extracted an acid with a complicated name, but known by its initials: DNA. He introduced it in the nervous system of other mice, which did not know anything about the lights and electric shocks and had good results. The mice behaved as if they had been trained before. They had the memory of the other animals or in mystic terms they had metempsychosis. I can’t explain the proceeding properly and I think you and your wise men will have a worse problem. My friend contacted the Academy of medicine but they smiled on discovering he treated pigs. They didn’t like human knowledge transmitted into animals and drove away in their Mercedes Benz. They wanted to take him to the saint inquisition and it’s a fire waiting for us in hell in our country.
According to this noble mad man, the process of knowledge is linked to a big, curved molecule. It is called DNA and RNA. You’ve found the code of life, when you can decipher its language. I don’t know how he does it. He bought Chucho –the chimpanzee- from an Antioqueño businessman, who had won him during a game of cards with the guards of the Bucharest zoo. You have had him for some time, without understanding how important he is.
Chucho’s not just the best monkey in the world, but he’s also the best man. He’s intelligent, disinterested, noble and a very good worker. He’s not dangerous to anyone and I’m sure he represents a step in our mental evolution. Our doctor did that with Chucho because he has a good capacity in his brain. He’s also done marvellous things with the other animals. The tiger -more intelligent and noble than any dog - understands many verbal orders. The parrot sings the opera Traviata by memory and has a better voice than any soprano from the Scala, while the snake drinks milk and eats mice. The monkeys sweep the house, wash the clothes and do some other chores as the turtles reproduce only when they’re asked to do it. The iguanas are fed by hand.
He has a troop of multicoloured mice, dancing Stravinsky’s ballet with Russian perfection. Margarita the snake is harmless, but I can’t say the same thing of the debt collectors. They had left him alone because of the difficulty of getting to the town, but things have changed now. I gave him a few pesos and promised to sell Chucho to stop the danger.
You can understand the failure awaiting the investigator. To finish with the transistors is an attack against humanity, but to end with knowledge by injecting yourself or by manipulating radiant energy is the final collapse of humanity. My wise friend sends you his regards but he doesn’t understand much about business. He knows what a businessman like you would do with his discoveries, and that’s why I can’t tell you anymore. Look after Chucho.
Sincerely yours.
Miguel


Twentieth century symphony
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- MORNING
A middle aged man with Prussian hair style pedals an exercise bike. He sweats as he checks the speed and the distance he has achieved and pedals again with more enthusiasm.
Then he goes down on the floor and stands on his head for a few moments but after standing up, he lifts weights over his head while breathing deeply, a Chinese bell hanging nearby adding music to the scene.
He rests standing on his head before doing exercises on the portable bars and a trapeze as Chucho appears.
CHUCHO
You must have an appetite, Mr. Astronaut. Do you want any breakfast?
ASTRONAUT
What time is it?
Chucho looks at the clock.
CHUCHO
It is twenty minutes past ten.
ASTRONAUT
Not that one. Look at the chronometer and tell me the whole thing.
Chucho looks at a small electronic chronometer on a table.
CHUCHO
It’s ten, twenty two minutes, four seconds and two decimals.
ASTRONAUT
Bring breakfast at ten thirty flat.
CHUCHO
What do you want, sir?

ASTRONAUT
The menu is on the table.
Chucho picks up a paper from the table, reads it and then leaves the scene.
The astronaut goes on the bars and the trapeze with all the strength of an anthropoid as Chucho arrives with two litres of oil, two pounds of grease on a plate, petrol in a bottle and two one inch screws. After putting everything on a small table, he looks at the chronometer.
CHUCHO
Ten thirty flat.
The astronaut jumps down from the trapeze, cleans his face and hands while breathing deeply ten times, before nearing the breakfast table.
On tasting the grease from the motor with a spoon, he mixes it with a bit of petrol as Chucho waits nearby.
ASTRONAUT
I would have liked the grease a bit thicker, even though it is fresh.
CHUCHO
We use for that one for our diesel motor. You should have told us of your favourite
mark.

ASTRONAUT
I’m used to everything.
A calculator moving on four wheels and reading a paper appears through the door. He smiles as he sees the astronaut.
CALCULATOR
Hello Sompson.
ASTRONAUT
My name is Simpson.
CALCULATOR
I’m learning Spanish. I like the word sonso.
ASTRONAUT
I don’t like dialects.
CALCULATOR
Don’t be upset or you’ll get indigestion. You have an appetite.
The astronaut drinks the oil.
ASTRONAUT
I like this oil.
CALCULATOR
I love the sea. I’d like to be a submarine computer.
ASTRONAUT
You’d be rusty.
CALCULATOR
I like to be rusty.
ASTRONAUT
Uhmmmm!
He sips the oil.
The calculator gestures to Chucho.
CALCULATOR
Boy, I’m dying of hunger.
CHUCHO
How can I help you?
CALCULATOR
I want a beefsteak, toasts with butter and marmalade. Coffee with milk and cereal
as a starter.

ASTRONAUT
You must be careful. You’ll get an electric stroke in the system ZX34.
CALCULATOR
I have an iron health, cement and transistors.
The astronaut looks at the chronometer.
ASTRONAUT
I still have twelve minutes, thirty seconds and two decimals.
CALCULATOR
Somebody has to look at your screws. You’re drinking thick oil.
ASTRONAUT
It’s not important. It’s all due to atmospheric pressure.
CALCULATOR
I think you should rest. This marine environment is beautiful.
ASTRONAUT
I’m resting. I’ll work twenty two hours and ten decimals of a second today.
CALCULATOR
Something might happen to your brain.
ASTRONAUT
The brain is not important.
CALCULATOR
The brain has some importance, as the head ends the symmetry of the body. Women
use it for hair styles, hats, wigs and headaches. A woman without headaches is not a
woman.
ASTRONAUT
I have to test the manoeuvre L-09…
CALCULATOR (interrupting)
I want to see a dwarf transformer I met last night.
ASTRONAUT
Love is degrading. Men have more important functions to accomplish.
CALCULATOR
It’s bad to be a man.
Chucho comes in with the breakfast for the calculator on a tray. The sound of a clarinet interrupts the scene.
The calculator looks at Chucho.
CALCULATOR
What’s that?
CHUCHO
It’s the matador’s guard. He wakes his master with the clarinet.
CALCULATOR
What matador?
CHUCHO
He boarded the ship last night. He’s called Cagangosto and he’s Homer’s guest.
CALCULATOR
What does he kill?
CHUCHO
He kills bulls. He’s Spanish.
CALCULATOR
Do they wake up with clarinets?
CHUCHO
I think so, sir.
CALCULATOR
Why doesn’t he use an alarm clock?
At that moment, the president of the republic of Salvacion appears. He’s a middle-aged man with mongoloid eyes, a mongoloid smile and a moustache.
He waves his hands.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Good morning everyone.
The calculator and the astronaut stand up.
ASTRONAUT AND CALCULATOR
Good morning.
The president wears a sport shirt and white trousers, while wiping his moustache with the back of his hand.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Homer is a genius. This is a beautiful yacht.
CALCULATOR
Have you tasted the food?
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
I had a bit of caviar last night.
The astronaut looks at the chronometer.
ASTRONAUT
Excuse me.
He leaves the room.
The president of Salvacion sits at the table as the calculator finishes with the food and wipes his face with a screw driver.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
We, the men of state, should rest from government pressure and have a good time in Homer’s yacht.
CALCULATOR
It’s what we call a good business.
The president of Salvacion looks at Chucho.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Would you bring me something to drink?
CALCULATOR
What about a dry wine?
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
It’s a good idea.
Chucho leaves the scene.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Is the great Mele a guest of Homer?
CALCULATOR
I arrived here last night.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
I also arrived last night but I’m here as an incognito. I love humility.
The conversation is interrupted by the arrival of a man with a red cape, chased by another one holding a tripod with the head of a bull. As the one with the cape waves it, the bull head attacks him and he runs away.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Isn’t that the great matador Cagangosto? It’s incredible.
CALCULATOR
They’ve told me everything about him. He should operate his haemorrhoids as a
Houston technician has the same problem.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
He’s the greatest matador of all times. He’s a monster. He’s superb, splendid,
immortal, wonderful, sublime.
As Chucho arrives with the bottle of wine, the calculator pours it in a glass.
CALCULATOR
Mr. President, here is the wine.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
You must say Excellency.
CALCULATOR
I’m sorry, Excellency. The wine is here.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
If I had known Cagangosto was here, I’d have brought my wife.
CALCULATOR
Drink the wine, Excellency.
As the president brings the glass to his mouth, a ball crashes against him and his false teeth fly in the air.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
What the…
Before he finishes his sentence, the ball crashes on his head again and his glasses fall on the floor.
A small man wearing an expensive gown and with a crown on his head runs across the scene.
MELE
Hiya!
As the president of Salvacion crawls on the floor, Chucho finds the glasses under a table and gives them to him. The president wipes his glasses with a handkerchief.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Who has done this to me?
He finds a machine gun under his shirt, with Dun- Dun bullets. As Mele throws the ball, it lands in the mouth of an ornamental shark.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
But…it’s the…the king.
He looks at the man with the ball, who gets ready to kick it again.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
It must be his majesty, King Mele, in person.
He puts his machine gun away and kneels on the floor.
MELE
Hiya!
Mele runs away while kicking the ball.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
We have two famous people here. I can’t believe it.
His voice sounds strange as he doesn’t have his false teeth.
Chucho appears with some more bottles and glasses, while Homer enters the scene accompanied by a beautiful woman.
HOMER
Good morning Excellency, good morning calculator. How did you sleep?
Everyone stands up.
HOMER
This is Madam Bulla. She’s the best soprano in the world.
Madam shakes a Venetian fan.
MADAM
Excellency, and how’s Mr. Calculator?
The president of Salvacion covers his mouth with a silk handkerchief.
PRESIDENTE OF SALVACION
I have some of your records. It’s an honour to meet you.
MADAM
You’re so kind.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Excuse me. I’ll come back in a moment.
He leaves the scene.
CALCULATOR
He lost his false teeth.
MADAM
It’s funny.
As she sits down, a head with horns crashes against her, and she falls down on the floor.
The calculator and Chucho help her to her feet.
CALCULATOR
Cagangosto has knocked you down.
Chucho picks up Madame’s wig from a bust of Julius Cesar.
MADAM
What an honour. He’s the best bullfighter in the world.
The astronaut moves across the scene, wearing space headgear while driving a blackboard.
MADAM
Who is he?
HOMER
He’s Simpson, the first American astronaut to set foot on Mars.
MADAME
He must be very old. I’ve seen many people on the camp of Marte.
HOMER
I’m talking of a star in the sky called Mars.
The president of Salvacion appears. He wears another set of false teeth.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
The man who was eating here seems to be mad.
He makes circles on his head.

HOMER
He’s Simpson, the first man to step on Mars.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
I remember now. It was that football game where they fought for the tenth star.
MADAM
I’m sorry Excellency, but Homer talks about those little stars in the night sky.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
I understand now. I’m always so busy. Homer’s guests are famous all over the
world.
HOMER
I would say the universe.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
We’ve been through university.
Mele runs in, breathing fast. They all stand up.
MELE
Hiya!
HOMER
Your majesty, the twentieth century will remember you for your thousand goals.
Mele wipes his mouth with his cape.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
I keep a piece of the ball that scored the thousandth goal, in a golden box.

MADAM
I have a thread of his socks after I sang ten concerts for the benefit of the flu victims.
MELE
Hiya!
Cagangosto comes in with the bull in pursuit. As Mele kicks the desiccated head of the bull, it rolls down the floor.
CAGANGOSTO
What’s the matter with you, man?
MELE
Hiya!
CAGANGOSTO
You’ve just broken my training bull.
MELE
Hiya!
CAGANGOSTO
You have to mend it or I….
Homer, Madam and the president, followed by Chucho and the calculator try to stop the argument but Mele kicks Cagangosto overboard as confusion reigns in the ship.
Homer shouts through the microphone.
HOMER
Man overboard! Switch off the engine!
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
What an honour! To be kicked from such a man is like winning the Nobel Prize of
football.
MADAM
It’s as if the Beatles sang one of their songs for me.
CALCULATOR
Your majesty has scored one thousand and one goals now.
MELE
Hiya!
As the sailors lower a boat down to the sea, the astronaut appears with a square wheel. He’s counting: 25…24…23…22…21…
FIRST SAILOR
I see a shoe.
SECOND SAILOR
I see the suit of lights and the red cape.
MELE
Hiya!
HOMER
Can we throw a cable?
FIRST SAILOR
He’s too far.
Madam takes her clothes off.
MADAM
I offer my life for his.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Madam, your life is precious.

CALCULATOR
Why don’t you tie the cable to the ball for his majesty to kick it?
MELE
Hiya!
HOMER
It’s a good idea.
A few sailors fasten the rope to Mele’s ball.
HOMER
Hurry up!
FIRST SAILOR
How can his majesty know where the matador is?
CALCULATOR
We’ll tell him that it’s goal 2002.
MELE
Hiya!
Homer ties the ball to the rope and calls Mele, who is eating a banana.
Homer bows.
HOMER
Your majesty
Mele puts the banana peeling on his shiny bold head.
MELE
Hiya!
Homer gives the peeling to a sailor.
HOMER
Do you want to score goal 2002 your majesty?
MELE
Hiya!
As king Mele kicks the ball, it goes faster than sound and the president’s wig flies up in the air.
FIRST SAILOR
It’s perfect.
MADAM
He’s a genius!
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Where is my wig?

MELE
Hiya!
FIRST SAILOR
He’s holding the cable.
Madam wears only her pants and bra by now.
MADAM
Thank God!
HOMER
You must pull at the same time now.
FIRST SAILOR
Bring the boat.
SECOND SAILOR
We must get the oxygen ready.
FIRST SAILOR
Bring him onboard now.
They all hear a shout of horror. Madam runs to the bars without her bra.
MADAM
He doesn’t have a head.
She faints.
HOMER
A shark must have eaten his head.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
The greatest bullfighter of all times has died.
He cries.
CALCULATOR
It isn’t so bad. He’ll perform better without a head.
HOMER
He’s breathing!
The men leave the scene. Madam remains in a comatose state and takes off her pants, as the calculator drinks wine and everyone is in silence.
A few sailors bring the headless body of Cagangosto on a stretcher. Homer comes behind them accompanied by the President of Salvacion.
HOMER
He needs oxygen.
Blood pours out of the neck
FIRST SAILOR
We must stop the bleeding!
SECOND SAILOR
We need Cobwebs.
A sailor puts a lot of cobwebs over the bleeding neck.
PRESIDENT OD SALVACION
We must place a plantain leaf above it.
MADAM
What will happen to the world without Cagangosto?
She cries.
MADAM
The sun has died.
HOMER
Madam, he’s still alive.
Madam stands up.
MADAM
He doesn’t have a head.
CALCULATOR
He could have lost his right arm. That would have been more terrible.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
He needs to hold his cape.
Mele appears kicking the ball.
MELE
Hiya!
The astronaut walks on his hands and with a multicolour parachute tied to his right foot.
HOMER
He’s still bleeding. What do we do?”
CALCULATOR
Let’s put the head of the bull on his neck.
MADAM
The calculator is clever.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
It’s a good idea.
Chucho gives Homer the head of the bull.
HOMER
Let’s try it.
He places the head of the bull on the matador’s neck.
CALCULATOR
It needs a few stitches.
Madam leaves the scene.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
He’s not bleeding anymore.
HOMER
It’s a miracle.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- MORNING
Madam kneels by the body of Cagangosto, holding a golden coffer.
HOMER
You must be careful
MADAM
I’ll sew my best stitches.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Use different colours.
CALCULATOR
He’ll be better than before.
Madam sews the head, while the sailors put away all the things they’ve used to save the man’s life.
EXT. BOTTOM OF THE SEA- MORNING
Meanwhile in the bottom of the sea:
FIRST SHARK
I’m not feeling well. I must have appendicitis.
SECOND SHARK
Did you eat something heavy?
FIRST SHARK
I devoured the head of a bullfighter.
SECOND SHARK
The feet are the best things bullfighters have.
FIRST SHARK
I didn’t know that.
SECOND SHARK
You’ll learn the secrets of the job one day.
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- MORNING
Madam has finished sewing the head. They all applaud.
The head of the bull moves as its eyes open.
CAGANGOSTO
Where am I?
HOMER
Don’t worry, matador. You’re with me.
CAGANGOSTO
Who is me?
HOMER
I’m me.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Can’t you see?
Cagangosto looks at the president.
CAGANGOSTA
Who is him?
HOMER.
You must remember the president of Salvacion, Excellency.
As Homer helps Cagangosto to stand up, he feels his right horn.

CAGANGOSTO
I’m thirsty.
CALCULATOR
Drink some wine.
The calculator gives him the bottle and Cagangosto drinks everything.
MADAM
He’s beautiful. He looks like a Miura.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
I’ll find my other wig.
He leaves the scene.
CALCULATOR
. I think the matador is better off now. Some bulls are very intelligent.
CAGANGOSTO
Bulls are the most intelligent animals in the world.
CALCULATOR
You can’t include calculators, of course.
CAGANGOSTO
I’m talking about animals.
HOMER
I feel thirsty after the incident. Do you want another bottle of wine, matador?
CAGANGOSTO
Yes, man.
A sailor says something to Homer.
HOMER
I have good news for you. A helicopter with the Beatles on board is about to land
on the ship.
CAGANGOSTO
The Beatles?
Madam is still naked.
MADAM
The Beatles??????
The president of Salvacion comes in, wearing a new wig.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Have I heard right?
HOMER
The Beatles will arrive in a few minutes, Excellency.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Are they the heroes of the British Empire???
MADAME
Yes, I’m very excited.
Homer shouts.
Mele runs across the scene, kicking his ball.
HOMER
Your majesty.
MELE
Hiya!
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Your majesty, the Beatles are coming.
HOMER
They are the most resplendent jewel in the British crown.
CAGANGOSTO
They are members of the order Garreteer.
MELE
Hiya!
He runs after the ball.
MADAM
His majesty is a genius.
HOMER
He’s superman.
CAGANGOSTO
The wine is very good.
CALCULATOR
Let’s drink to your health, matador.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
We represent the best of humankind.
MADAM
God has gathered the best people on this ship.
The astronaut moves across the scene pulling a tower with luminous lights as a siren goes on. He stops and walks backwards.
CALCULATOR
Can I have some more prawns?
As Homer leaves the scene, the noise of the approaching helicopter fills everything.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
They have arrived.
MADAM
I’m going to faint.
CAGANGOSTO
You can faint here.
He opens his arms.
MADAM
AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She falls in the arms of Cagangosto.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
What a sensible woman.
CAGANGOSTO
She’s very nice.
As he licks her body, she faints even more.
CALCULATOR
Where’s the urinal?
SAILOR
It’s over there.
He gestures with his hand.
The calculator goes away with the sailor.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
I don’t like that machine.
CAGANGOSTO
It looks like a domesticated space ship.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
He must be indifferent to human glory.
CAGANGOSTO
I don’t think he understands much about bulls.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
He doesn’t like art.
CAGANGOSTO
That astronaut plays a science fiction game all the time.
Homer appears followed by a few people with electric guitars, long hair and wearing similar clothes. The president of Salvacion rises to his feet.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
The Beatles!
Madam stands up.
MADAM
The Beatles.
Cagangosto doesn’t stand up.
CAGANGOSTO
The boys have arrived.
HOMER
Ladies and gentleman, these are the Beatles and their girlfriends.
A few men arrive, dressed in funny costumes. They don’t say hello to anyone and sit in a circle on the floor.
The astronaut crawls across the scene while singing.
ASTRONAUT
My old Kentucky home…
The first Beatle looks at him.
FIRST BEATLE
We want the same stuff he has had.
HOMER
He’s the astronaut Simpson, the conqueror of the Martian mountains.
SECOND BEATLE
We are not interested in the girls Mr. Simpson has conquered. We want the same
marihuana he’s had.
FIRST GIRL
I want some mescaline.
SECOND GIRL
I want LSD.
THIRD BEATLE
Bring everything you have.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
They’re geniuses.
Homer leaves the scene with one of the sailors as the calculator comes back.
CALCULATOR
I think everything here is rubbish.
CAGANGOSTO
I remember an afternoon in Seville with bulls of Domec…
MADAM
I love his wines.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
I want to have a picture with all the geniuses.
A few sailors come in with food, wine, cigarettes and multicoloured sweets. Homer appears behind them.
HOMER
You have all kind of liquors here. I have brought blonde, brown, and Asian
marihuana. There are also different concentrations of opium plus LSD, mescaline,
sublimated heroin and morphine.

They all applaud the host while the Beatles fiddle with their guitars.
CALCULATOR
I’ll drink some wine.
As the guests help themselves to food and stimulants, Mele arrives behind the ball.
MELE
Hiya!
HOMER
Would you like to have something, your majesty?
MELE
Hiya!
He goes after the ball.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- AFTERNOON
A sailor moves towards the president.
SAILOR
Someone wants you on the phone, Excellency.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Someone wants me?
SAILOR
Yes, sir. They say it’s urgent.
HOMER
Bring him the phone.
The sailor goes away as the Beatles smoke marihuana and take the other drugs.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- AFTERNOON
The sailor brings the phone to the president as a man wearing a suit with decorations appears in the small three-dimensional screen.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
What’s the matter minister?
MINISTER
It’s bad, Excellency.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Tell me, man.
MINISTER
The referee has made a penalty against our team, after twenty five minutes of
the football match against the republic of Bajuras.

PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
That’s not possible. It’s an attempt against me. That’s…
MINISTER
Excuse me, excellent president of the republic of Salvacion but the penalty has been
effective. We’re losing one to zero.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Dirty dogs! Call all the reserves of air and sea.
The astronaut moves across the scene holding two globes of different colours.
MINISTER
We’ll do as your Excellency says.
He bows before the screen.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Keep me informed.
He puts the receiver down and breathes deeply.
HOMER
Is it bad news, Excellency?
Madam sits next to the Beatles and sings, while showing her vagina.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Something awful has happened, dear Homer. In the football game for the final of
the Jules Rimmet cup, the Barujas team has scored a penalty. What an indignity!
My country has been dirtied by that bunch of idiots.
The voice of Madam singing with the Beatles floats around the ship.
CAGANGOSTO
During a bullfight in Cali, I…
CALCULATOR
Drink more wine, matador.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
I want to buy thirty planes with bombs. My country is in danger and we can’t waist
any more time.
HOMER
Yes, of course.
He leaves the scene.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Assassins, BASTARDS!
CAGANGOSTO
Why don’t you take the man who is kicking about?
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Do you mean his majesty, King Mele?
CAGANGOSTO
Yes, man.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
He’d have to become a citizen of my Country first. I don’t think his country would
want to lose such a jewel as if Venezuela gave away its petrol, Japan its factories,
England its queen, Argentina its generals, Colombia the Tequendama Falls, Brazil the
Amazon River or China its great wall.
The Beatles are singing in a choir, while the girls take off their clothes.
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- LATE AFTERNOON
The President of Salvacion is on the phone again. The figure of the minister appears in the screen.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
What’s happening?
The minister vows.
MINISTER
The first time finished 1-0. Seven members of our sporting agency have been killed,
including the technical director, the trainer and two advisers.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
What have you done?
MINISTER
A small plane we dispatched dropped a small bomb over the stadium, killing a central
judge and four spectators.

A sailor puts a few papers on the table. The Beatles and the girls are naked now.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
You’ll get more arms in a few minutes.
MINISTER
Thank you, Excellency.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
Let me see the match on the telephone.
After the minister vows, the football field appears in the screen. Several men kick a ball, while others lie on the bloody floor.
PRESENTER
The player of Salvacion at the right side of the field takes the ball. He passes it to
another one, who is stabbed by the central defence of Barujas as you can see.
The left defence of Salvacion points the machine gun towards the opposite goalie
but the referee stops the bloodshed.
Bajuras is winning 1-0, as they come witha stretcher to take the wounded
away. The left defence of Bajuras is dead. The referee, who replaced the
one killed during the first time, calls the substitute. You can see the new player
showing the carnet of FIFA in the right side.
What an interesting game! Ladies and gentlemen, Salvacion army invades the
northern frontiers of the other country. The game is getting better.
As Mele kicks his ball against the phone, it breaks in a thousand pieces.
MELE
Hiya!
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
No, man.
HOMER
What a problem.
CALCULATOR
His Majesty has finished with the game.
CAGANGOSTO
It was interesting.
PRESIDENT OF SALVACION
What can I do now?
HOMER
I have the papers for your majesty to sign, before getting the helicopter.
The Beatles and the girls are naked, as Homer picks up the papers from the table and leaves with the president.
After climbing up a wall, the astronaut drops down into a net, he had put there before.
EXT. LUXURIOUS SHIP- LATE AFTERNOON
Homer and the sailors bring a few things.
HOMER
We must sing together, boys.
The Beatles sing noisily while Cagangosto dances flamenco on a table, Homer looks after his instruments and king Mele kicks his ball about.
They all fall down on the floor a few moments later, except Mele, kicking his ball and Homer.
HOMER
Thank you everyone. I have just recorded the greatest moment in the century.
I’m calling it the twentieth century symphony.


The nuns
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
Two men wearing long gowns sit on the top deck of a yacht. One of them is a big man with an even bigger stomach, a crown on his head and rings on his gingers.
The other one doesn’t have a crown on his head but he has a few pendants with crosses around his neck.
They drink cups of tea while looking at the dark sea under the light of the full moon. Some cups are on the table along with a plate full of cakes and biscuits.

CARDINAL
It’s nice of Homer to let us hide in his floating mansion.
BISHOP
He helps his friends.
CARDINAL
He gets my blessings.
They drink their cups of tea. The cardinal takes one of the cakes as crumbs fall down his gown but he eats them.
A nun wearing a blue tunic with matching head gear moves towards them while pushing a few strands of hair back.
SISTER CAMILLA
It’s nice to find the children of God together.
CARDINAL
We were talking about Homer’s generosity. He let us use his boat while ignoring
the general.
SISTER CAMILLA
They want to take him to court in the mainland.

BISHOP
He’s a hero.
SISTER CAMILLA
I want him canonised by the pope.
She sits at the table and takes a cup of tea as Fifi appears in the scene. She shows her teats through a transparent blouse and her pants under a small mini skirt.
BISHOP
Fifi, it’s nice to see you here.
FIFI
I’m enjoying Homer’s hospitality.
Fifi shakes hands with the priests and hugs Sister Camilla. A tall nun wearing the same clothes as the other one appears in the scene.
SISTER ROSA
I find so many members of the clergy in this yacht.
CARDINAL
We haven’t seen our host yet.
Sister Rosa pours herself a cup of coffee, takes a biscuit from the plate and sits next to Sister Camilla as Homer appears accompanied by a young woman dressed in combat clothes. She’s tall with long legs, black hair, false eye lashes and big breasts.
They all stand up and applaud.
HOMER
I hope you’re enjoying your stay in my yacht.
SISTER CAMILLA
We are glad to be in this ship, far from a dangerous country.
HOMER
Consider me as your saviour.
He gestures to the girl.
HOMER
This is Amelia. She is the head of the revolutionary movement of our country.
Amelia salutes everyone army style and looks at Fifi.
AMELIA
I have seen your face in the papers. You must be the wife of the general.
Fifi nods.
FIFI
I’m glad to meet you.
AMELIA
I wish I could say the same thing.
HOMER
Let’s drink to our health and freedom.
A sailor appears with a tray full of glasses plus two bottles of wine and puts everything on the table.
HOMER
Cardinal, would you like a glass of wine?
CARDINAL
I want a cup of tea.
HOMER
Does anyone want wine?
FIFI
I want a gin and tonic.
AMELIA
I wouldn’t mind a gin and tonic, Uncle Homer.
A sailor goes around replenishing cups of tea and coffee and pours gin and tonic in the girls’ glasses. Amelia stands in front of everyone.
AMELIA
Dear comrades. We have to talk about freedom. Our countries must be governed by
people who don’t slave and torture their fellow human beings in the name of bigotry.
She pauses to take a sip of her gin and tonic.
AMELIA
We must attack the forces of evil.

They applaud.
HOMER
I have the arms ready for your fight.
AMELIA
It’s God’s fight, Uncle Homer. We must win over the people who kill and torture us.
She kisses him.
HOMER
I have a surprise for you.
As he claps his hands, a few women wearing uniforms appear from one of the doors and salute them military style.
Amelia smiles.
AMELIA
Thanks, Uncle Homer.
HOMER
I knew you wanted your girls.
AMELIA
Attention!
The women stand in front of her.
AMELIA
One, two, one, two…
They march around the scene.
AMELIA
Rest now.
They disperse as Amelia sips her drink. Homer hugs her, feeling around her bosom.
CARDINAL
That was a good show of solidarity.
BISHOP
You’re fighting for the country.
AMELIA
We want the liberation from the oppressor.
They all look at Fifi.
FIFI
I have left my husband, the general.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
As music comes out of the loudspeakers, Homer dances with Amelia while Sister Camilla and Sister Rosa dance with each other. The bishop, the cardinal and Fifi sip their drinks.
The army women sit in a circle and spin a bottle on the floor. Every time it stops, one of them takes their clothes off, while the four members of the clergy look away. Sister Rosa shakes her head and holds her rosary.
SISTER ROSA
Our father who art in heaven…
CARDINAL
Hallowed be thy name…
SISTER CAMILLE
Thou kingdom will come…
Fifi moves across the scene and disappears through a door.
CUT TO
INT. CABIN IN LUXURIOUS SHIP- NIGHT
Chucho writes on his notebook under the light of his lamp as someone knocks at the door.
FIFI (O.S)
Chucho, it’s me. Can I come in?
As Fifi opens the door and steps in the untidy room, she sees papers covering the floor while the table is full of other things.
FIFI
It’s crazy outside there.
Chucho stops writing.
CHUCHO
I’m working on Homer’s manuscripts.
FIFI
Jose was an invisible friend.
CHUCHO
I know.
Fifi caresses his fur and kisses his mouth while he writes.
CHUCHO
Not now.
She reads what Chucho writes.
FIFI
Why are you leaving a space here?
CHUCHO
It’s something I don’t understand.
Loud music comes from outside as she keeps on reading.
CHUCHO
You must go back to the party.
FIFI
I want to stay with you.
As she kisses his fur, Chucho’s eyes are fixed in the manuscript.
FIFI
When will you finish?
CHUCHO
I don’t know.
INT.CABIN IN LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
Fifi tidies the room, as Chucho writes.
CHUCHO
Don’t touch my papers.
FIFI
They’ll explain everything.
CHUCHO
I hope so.
FIFI
Tell me, please.
CHUCHO
It’s complicated.

EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
Fireworks go up the sky and the air has a pinkish hue as smoke rises to the stars.
The women are naked while the cardinal, the bishop and the nuns pray.
HOMER
This is a night to remember.
AMELIA
Hurrah to our hero!
EVERYONE
Hurrah!
The music starts again and the girls dance with each other. Amelia approaches the cardinal who looks away.
SISTER ROSA
You are naked, my child.
AMELIA
This is the way God sent me to this world.
HOMER
I’ll dance with you.
The music goes on as the cardinal prays.
CUT TO
EXT. LUXURIOUS YACHT- NIGHT
The sailors bring a table with papers and calculators.
HOMER
We must talk about business now.
AMELIA
I’ll sign a cheque for the ammunitions and the tanks, Uncle Homer.
She sits at the table, her breasts trembling as she looks for something in her bag. Then she writes on a cheque.
AMELIA
We’ll kill those bastards.
The naked girls intone a revolutionary song, holding hands as Homer takes the cheque and pours champagne in the glasses. Then the girls come to the table for their drinks.

AMELIA
We toast to the revolution.
ALL THE GIRLS
To the revolution.
CARDINAL
Ora pro novis…
HOMER
We’ll have a firework display tonight.
CARDINAL
I won’t be here.


Miguel
I had arrived at Homer’s yacht with Jaramillo, who wanted to talk to the intelligent chimpanzee in the floating paradise, looking more like a floating shop. Chucho’s owner had given me a letter that I delivered to Homer on the first day, but everything was not bad. The liquor, the women and drugs were first class. Stupid bosses, industrialists, sexy and frigid women and lesbians wanted something from Homer. Some people went there on business and the rest for the same thing but Homer always kept something from them. Amelia and her women had left the yacht but Fifi had stayed.
The arms of a Russian duchess in exile had received me on the first day. Duchesses are the same as maids, but this one had beautiful breasts, like a couple of doves with rosy beaks. I could never understand why the communists had thrown her out of the country instead of Stalin’s moustache, but I think Marxism produces irreversible foolishness. Everybody congregated on deck as fireworks went up the sky, leaving a trail amidst the clouds.
“It’s beautiful,” my duchess said.
As she held my hands against her bosom, I wondered why I had fallen for her charms. Once I had to work to earn my bread, but Homer’s money had left me on my own. My wife had left me while my children had gone away in pursue of their dreams.
“Would you like an aguardiente?” a voice interrupted my reverie.
On looking up, I came face to face with a chimpanzee dressed as a sailor, pushing a tray towards my chest while showing me his teeth. We stared at each other for a few moments.
“Hi Chucho,” I said.
He showed me his teeth, filling one of the small cups in the tray.
“You must be having a nice time,” he said.
I took a sip of aguardiente, while my duchess gulped her drink.
“Thank you,” I said.
Chucho moved away from us, his legs struggling to keep the balance on the floor. He managed fine in Homer’s ship in spite of the human circus he had.
“Chucho is clever,” I said.
She nodded. “And weird.”
Chucho looked at the girls while offering drinks to the rest of the guests by the pool.
“Hi Chucho,” they said.
He uttered a greeting in Spanish, his hands reaching for the tumblers left in the tray while grinning at them.
“I have to work,” he said.
“Homer won’t mind,” the girls said.
Shaking his head, Chucho left a trail of water on the floor. He must have stepped on a puddle or the girls made him nervous. I remembered my trip to the mountains, where the parrot and the snake kept me company during the night.
“I’ll get some more drinks,” my duchess said.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror before moving towards the bar, where Homer spoke to his passengers.
“She’s nice,” Jaramillo said.
“I know.”
I had forgotten about the journalist, sitting by my side, drinking aguardiente and holding a roll of papers. I had seen them in Homer’s shop a long time ago.
“They used to belong to Homer’s invisible friend,” he said.
As I looked at the lines and symbols meaning nothing at all, Homer appeared with my duchess. After putting a few drinks on the table, she sat by my side.
“I must see Chucho,” Jaramillo said.
“He’s with Fifi now,” Homer said.
“They must be in love.”
“He’s a chimpanzee,” I said.
“Love has no limits.”
As Jaramillo left the table, my duchess sat on my lap, while searching for my hands. I don’t know how she could do so many things at the same time.
“You took a long time,” I said.
“Homer showed me his trophies.”
“What trophies?”
“He had a matador called Cagangosto, who has the head of a bull.”
“It’s strange,” I said.
She smiled. “Matadors are funny people.”
I thought the fine weather might end, as the sound of thunder interrupted the conversation.
“It will rain tomorrow,” Homer said. “The weatherman said.”
“They are never right,” I said.
Homer sipped his drink, the sun struggling to appear behind the clouds while the orchestra played a tango. Homer took his shirt off.
“Hurrah to Homer,” people said.
He struggled with his trousers, showing us his erect cock. Then he danced around the place, looking suntanned while the women clapped their hands.
“I want an orgy,” Homer said.
The girls took off their clothes, and the top deck looked like a nudist camp, as everyone pranced naked around the pool.
“Yes,” my duchess said.
On throwing away her panties, the breeze greeted her flesh, her teats going up and down while her cunt looked pink in the sun.
“You have shaved your body hair,” I said.
“Why don’t you join us?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Do it for me.”
I saw fireworks exploding in the sky. At first I took my trousers off, but then my pants joined the rest of my clothes on the floor, feeling the ecstasy of the moment. A girl knelt by my side.
“Can I suck it?” she asked.
I let her put it in her mouth, her fingers drawing the foreskin up and down, until
the semen splashed her teats. Everybody cheered as I buried my face in her vagina.
“One, two, three,” they chanted.
They waited for the moment when her juices would greet my tongue.
“Four, five, six...”
I sucked her clitoris, playing with her labia while sticking a finger in her anus.
“Ahhh,” she said.
I could see my duchess sucking someone’s member, as the heavens looked strange. It had to be the pills Homer had offered us that morning.
“The president has died,” he said.
“Hurrah to the general,” everyone said.


Eureka
I forgot all about Chucho’s quest in my sessions with the duchess, when we lost ourselves in a fog of love and marihuana in our cabin. The rays of the sun came through the curtains making funny shapes on the floor as I woke up later. It was a day like any other in Homer’s yacht. The sailors hurried along the corridors, while I rested on the duchess’ ample bosom. As I opened the curtains, I saw the blue sea under the morning sun, showing me the beauty of the world at that time. A noise at the door interrupted my reverie.
“Do you want to have breakfast in your room?” a voice asked.
“We are eating by the pool today,” I said.
My duchess opened her eyes the same colour as the sky, while kissing my lips, inviting me to rape her all over again. We had to stop behaving like newlyweds in order to enjoy Homer’s hospitality in his floating paradise. I admired the duchess’ body as she put her swimming costume on her bronzed skin and by the time we went outside, breakfast had finished. Homer held hands with a blonde girl.
“Good morning,” he said. “Would you like a drink?”
I had a headache from the alcohol I had the night before.
“I prefer an orange juice,” I said.
My duchess did a few backstrokes in the pool, before floating in the water like a nymph under the rays of the sun.
“She’s beautiful,” I said.
Homer nodded, looking a bit tired after all the fun we had the night before, while my duchess dried herself with a big towel. She must have forgotten her sun cream or our star had more power today.
“It’s a beautiful day,” she said.
I nodded. “I love you.”
Her tongue searching for mine, we had a long kiss full of saliva and germs. I hoped nothing would end the best day of my life as one of the sailors came towards us.
“Jaramillo wants to see you,” he said. “It’s important.”
“I’ll be back in a moment,” I said.
Nodding, the duchess sat next to Homer. I had a last look at them, before following the sailor towards the lower deck, where I found the journalist in Chucho’s cabin, the chimpanzee’s fur looking untidy.
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
He must have lost his sanity whilst stepping on the books piled on the floor. Then I remembered that word from my school days by the market.
“He’s found it,” Fifi said.
“What has he found?”
“The end of time,” she said.
“I don’t understand.”
The chimpanzee’s short legs bent every time he jumped on the bed like a yoyo, while shouting strange words. Some more books fell at my feet, dust rising in the air like an eruption around us.
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
“Stop him,” Fifi said.
I held Chucho’s long arms but he escaped as Jaramillo ran after him. I wanted to know why he had gone back to his wild state, forgetting everything he had learned during the years.
“Eureka,” he said.
“Anything might happen now,” Fifi said.
“That is nonsense,” I said.
I saw words in another language in the pages on the bed. They couldn’t be dangerous, but Chucho ran with his knuckles on the floor.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said.
Chucho screamed, waving his arms in the air. A few more people had come in the room, alerted by the noise.
“He’s excited,” I said.
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
As we followed him along the corridor, I thought he had tried some of Homer’s marihuana or perhaps L.S.D. Then he climbed up the mast, his small body framed against the sky.
“Eureka,” he said.
We saw lights floating amidst the clouds, bringing confusion to the yacht. Homer loved improvising a show when we didn’t expect it and must have started another round of fireworks to entertain us.
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
A mantle of fog had descended over the world in the best display of fireworks I had ever seen. Homer was a genius as the sky erupted in many colours amidst the clouds, and stopping the rays of the sun from coming to us. Then one of the sailors appeared holding a radio.
“You must listen to this,” he said.
We heard the presenter talking of a world in chaos: “Astronomers think our star might explode as a nova. The word means new, because a star appear in the sky, where nothing was there before. If this is true, we have an alarm to transmit all over the world. The communication satellites have disappeared that’s why we have put together all the radio stations while asking you to remain calm.”
People took cover in the rooms below deck, as Homer tried to reach the mast where Chucho rested amidst the fog.
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
“Tell me what you know.”
“Eureka.”
“I’ll give you lots of money.”
Chucho screamed, sliding down the pole.
“According to the latest news, the sun is pulsating,” the presenter said. “Our star has more energy than its size requires but we must keep calm. Most of the victims have happened because of panic. The authorities have decided to shut the churches in Bogota, where many people have died and the rest of the country must do the same thing.”
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
I thought of the tribe living throughout the ages, before a stranger had killed them in the name of coca.
“Look at the sky,” Fifi said.
I saw lights dancing in the heavens, the waves rocking the ship up and down.
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
That word didn’t mean anything amidst the panic and the fear. Whatever thing Chucho had found wouldn’t take away the lights away.
“The country has awoken today to a rare phenomenon, caused by the sun pulsating, according to the experts. Many people have died in the confusion but you must keep calm.”
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
The voice in the radio urged us to keep away from the sea, while the world around us collapsed in a symphony of colours.
“You must stop this joke,” I told Homer.
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
As my duchess held my hands, everyone went mad and the sky roared in cosmic tones.
“This is a farce,” I said.
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
The seven minutes
“This is the national radio with the number one news at the moment,” the presenter said. “It’s raining in Bogotá. Attention! An electric storm has developed over the city, with rain and hail.”
It also rained on the yacht, thunder echoing around us, wisps of light playing above our heads.
“It’s the end of time,” Fifi said.
My duchess couldn’t take her eyes off the sky, excited by the beautiful colours drifting like a carrousel on fire.
“Can you see that?” she asked.
More dancing lights were in the horizon.
“Marihuana, L.S.D or heroin never gave me such sensations,” she said.
“I know.”
“Homer won’t tell us how he prepares the cocktails,” she said. “It must be an oriental mystery.”
“He wants to frighten us,” I said.
We wondered what could be happening to the world while drinking alcohol to calm our nerves.
“We give you an extraordinary bulletin,” the presenter said. “The sun will explode in a nova. The word means new, because a star appears where nothing was there before.”
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
“I knew it,” I said.
I wrote amidst the fog and the lights, while the voice in the radio told us to be
“We’re navigating by radar,” he said.
He conferred with Homer for a few moments, the lights dancing in the sky like a carrousel of fire. He must have hired another boat in order to give us the best spectacle I had ever seen in my life.
“Look at those colours falling over the clouds,” my duchess shouted.
I saw a fountain of blue light, evaporating slowly like a Christmas decoration amongst the fog.
“It has crashed with the arch,” I said.
“It’s superb.”
“Where is Homer?” someone asked.
“We want the formula.”
That man is a witch.”
“A fat sun is rising over there.”
“Don’t bite me.”
“Hurrah to our host.”
“The captain is a cynic.”
“You’re mad.”
“What’s the name for that?”
“Where’s my cup?”
“Wait for it to finish.”
“If you kiss me ten times, I’ll tell you.”
“Has anyone seen my glasses?”
“Let’s dance.”
“Hurrah to the party.”
“Hurrah to Homer.”
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
The fog had thickened, hail falling over the world.
“Something bad is about to happen,” Homer said.
We heard more news on the radio.
“You have to lie down in a safe place as I say the words: we have seven minutes,” the presenter said. “That is when the explosion of the sun will reach us.”
“You pretend the sun ends in a nova,” I said.
“What is a nova?” Fifi asked.
“This is a conspiracy,” I said.
“I don’t understand,” Fifi said.
We had some more L.S.D, and I drank a bottle of wine in my duchess’s arms, the arch of fire spreading around the heavens. I enjoyed the spectacle above us while feeling her vagina through her pants. She was wet. It had to be all the drugs she had taken or she needed a massage before Armageddon.
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
Fifi opened my zip as I licked the duchess’ clitoris and thunder rumbled through the world.
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
“We must keep calm,” the presenter said. “Most of the victims have happened because of the general panic. It doesn’t look good in New York, where the skyscrapers have disappeared under the fog. We don’t know the number of ships and planes involved in accidents as confusion reigns on earth.”
I heard the guests talking amongst themselves.
“Are we running away from New York?” someone said.
“They’re right. It’s boring.”
“It must be the high rents.”
“Homer is a genius. First he shows us lights, and now he frightens us.”
“Where did you buy that record?”
“Do you have a novel by Wells?”
Then the presenter spoke again. “You must lie somewhere safe when we say the words: we only have seven minutes. Attention!”
“Ahhh,” My duchess said.
“Open your legs,” I said.
“The general has won,” Homer said.
He pushed inside Fifi, who sucked my cock and I licked my duchess vagina. I hoped to achieve a climax at the same time as the end of the world.
“We have some more news,” the presenter interrupted. “The planet Mercury has exploded. We’ll see the results of the explosion very soon.”
“Eureka,” Chucho said.
“I like you,” I said.
“Do you want it faster?” Homer asked.
“Yes,” Fifi said.
Homer’s powers of deceit had made us blind to the real events around us.
“We have seven minutes,” the presenter said. “Attention. We have seven minutes!!”
I wondered what else would happen now, while the sky acquired a red tinge in the most beautiful spectacle on earth.
“We have six minutes,” the presenter said.
Thunder rumbled about us, the waves lifting the boat up and down. Homer had organised the best party I had ever had for the apocalypse.
“Attention,” the radio interrupted. “We have four minutes.”
“Ahhhh,” Homer said.
I thought it would be a day to remember, if we didn’t dissolve in zillions of atoms in a few moments.
“We have three minutes,” the radio said.
I reached my climax as my duchess ejaculated in my mouth, Fifi cried her love for Homer, and everything went dark..
Prologue
Homer awakes in another land, as a moon with spots of different colours shines in the sky. Sitting up on the floor, he thinks it must be his shop by the market amidst his night terrors. Jose appears, holding a toy truck in his hands.
“Has the world finished?” Homer asks.
“It might have done,” Jose says.
“Tell me more.”
Jose moves closer to him, his freckles visible in the moonlight.
“The tree of life protected you from death,” he says.
“Where is Kam?”
“You left her in the jungle.”
“That was years ago.”
“Time doesn’t exist here.”
Homer thinks of the day Uncle Hugh appeared in the middle of lunch amidst the debris of his life and the end of time. On moving through the darkness, he finds some papers and other things on the floor. He reads Miguel’s description of the end of time inside the yacht.
“Where is everyone?” Homer asks.
“They’ve gone,” Jose says.
Civilisation has ended leaving him with his night terrors. Homer crouches inside one of the huts, covering himself with some rugs he finds on the floor. He can’t understand where he is or what he has to do in this land of shadows.
“It started with the dark sun,” he says.
Sitting by his side, Jose runs his truck along the floor.
“It might have done.”
Then everything falls into place as Homer remembers floating in his mother’s womb and the death of a nation. The child born under the dark sun has completed his life cycle. The Indians, the boats, the widows and the manuscripts make sense. Jose must have been the child of his lust. As the wind gathers force and the trees move under the hurricane, Uncle Hugh appears in the darkness.
“I’m never late,” he says.
Homer goes back in time to the backyard while the sun careers through the sky in its journey to Armageddon...


SPANISH WORDS
1: El Baratillo: a shop that sells cheap things.
2: Aguardiente: Colombian liquor.
3: Socorro is a woman’s name.
4: Mulato: person of mixed origin.
5: Pandebobo is a kind of bread.
6: Panela is made of sugar cane.
7: Antioqueno is someone from Antioquia, a region in North West Colombia.
8: Morcilla is a kind of sausage. It’s made with the intestines of a pig.
9: Bocadillos: Colombian sweet made with Guava and sugar.
10: Campesinos: country people.
11: Sancocho is a regional chicken soup.
12: Mazato: a drink made with corn.
13: Arepa: pastry made with corn and sometimes cheese.
14: Curuba: tropical fruit.
15: Boyaca is a region of Colombia.

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 30.08.2009

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