Isosceles from the Death of Vicky Lacquer or . . . from Titus Monothelismus

By G. J. Calonge

In the lands where Rocinante would lead Alonso Quijano, according to the ink that would pour the Cervantine will, a boy remembers a nightmare of his childhood where he was chased by a bull named Isosceles and sometime later a bull of the same name will be fought in the city of La Mancha in Albacete: with two equal sides and one unequal or not, the characters will unfold in a frieze that will occur from the Enchanted City of Cuenca and the Roman ruins of Segóbriga to the mountain ranges where the sport of hunting takes place. With things as they are, Tasso Pungere and Herod Activar will leave La Mancha as it was when they entered, followed by Barbara Kilometer, Babbie, the aussie journalist who wants to discover the life of Pungere, a young man who regards the woman as an object of pleasure while Activar only sees her as Stendhalian crystallization.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palibrio
• Release date: Mar 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9781506523675

Book preview

THE SLIP

1

Babbie Kilometer had left Aranjuez in pursuit of Tasso Pungere, but when she was getting close to Ocaña, a couple of cars got between hers and the one carrying Tasso and Herodes, and because she didn’t know those highways, she found herself faced with the unpleasant surprise that beyond Ocaña, the highway split into two almost identical forks winding off into the horizon, the right of which was perfectly paved and the left of which wasn’t bad, but which seemed to be in worse conditions. Confused, she stopped the car at the point of the fork and took a moment to think. Which direction is best? she wondered. On the right is the highway to Andalusia which goes to Bailén, where you can continue on to Córdoba, Seville and Cádiz or go on to Jaén, Granada, the Costa del Sol and Málaga, and on the left is the highway that goes to Albacete and Alicante, with the possibility of going on to Valencia. I don’t know which way to go. Finally, she took a highway map out of the glove compartment and unfolded it. Let’s see… I’m going to go as fast as possible until I get to this place here called Tembleque, and if I haven’t caught up with them along the way, I’ll turn off of the Andalusia Highway around Villacañas, Villa de Don Fadrique and the town of Almoradier until I get to Quintanar de la Orden to continue along the highway to Alicante, thought Babbie while running her index finger along all of the places on the map that she was taking mental note of.

She turned the wheel to the right with a movement of her left hand, decisively floored the gas pedal, speeding up to thirty, sixty, ninety, one hundred twenty, one hundred forty, one hundred seventy… The car moved swiftly along the magnificent highway, seeming to have wings on its wheels. Kilometer after kilometer went by, but Tasso Pungere’s car still hadn’t appeared, until she reached Tembleque, where she turned off to the left until Quintanar de la Orden, where she stopped shortly before moving on to the Alicante highway. Obviously they went the other way, so I’m going to floor it to see if I can catch up with them, she told herself. And that’s what she did: she once again revved the car’s engine at top speed. Town after town went by, but Pungere’s car still didn’t appear, so when she arrived in the outskirts of Albacete, she figured that she probably hadn’t caught up with them, and so decided, map at her side, to continue on to Almansa. She got there too, to the point where the highway entered the town to the right, and still nothing.

She was devastated. The sensational story had slipped through the tips of her fingers. She was sitting at the wheel of her car without even knowing where to head, and in the end decided to stay at the turnoff to Almansa, where she spent hours waiting. But the Italian didn’t show up, so she turned the car around and drove back to Albacete, where she waited at the exit to the city. Even still, too many hours had gone by and Pungere’s car didn’t appear anywhere, so she decided to stay in the city for a while. She asked a passerby where downtown was and headed in that direction. She was distraught; she still couldn’t believe it: the best opportunity of her life had just vaporized. After asking a few people, she arrived at a broad square that resembled an esplanade filled with gardens, grassy spaces and many hedges. She parked her car on one of the streets leading to the plaza, closed its door and stepped outside. Her feline body seemed to have lost all of its agility. She walked slowly along the sidewalk until reaching the plaza once again. When she got to the corner, she looked to both sides without knowing where to go, stopping indecisively, and in the end walked to her left. In front of her were the large letters of a hotel that stood out against the ceiling of the sky that was now equally distant from her as the sensational story that she had been following for so long. She had spent months in pursuit of Pungere and was now faced with nothing; all of the time she had spent had been in vain.

Where could Tasso be now? Babbie thought. She decided to spend the night at that hotel, and would maybe stay there for a couple of days to find herself again. She felt frustrated.

As she walked, a fog of immense sadness muddled the tenuous blue of her beautiful eyes, as the light afternoon breeze gently rustled the wisps of blonde hair around her elegant neck below the tiny lobes of her ears, from which hung earrings that shone with the sun’s last rays. Right then, it almost even seemed that the great height of her stylized figure had crumbled; she didn’t even seem to exist at that moment. Her steps, so firm and resolute on other occasions, now seemed the reflection of the insecurity invading her. In truth, she didn’t know what to do. After the time that it had cost her to convince the director of her newspaper to back her and cover the expenses for that recollection that was supposed to be her story, she didn’t know how she would explain things to him now. In any event, she would wait for a while before talking to him because she was afraid of his anger, as well as because she felt ashamed of herself. She had gone on so many times about how good things were going both by telegram and by letter and now… In any event, it had been an opportunity that didn’t show itself often for a journalist, a unique chance to definitively stand out in the world of journalism to the point of being able to write a book that could even become an authentic bestseller.

Now, her pretty face, which so often twisted into her amusing and characteristic look, was almost kept up by her tiny round chin resting on her chest. Her eyes weren’t even looking forward anymore; they directed their blue shine at the pavement as she walked toward the hotel. Meanwhile, a strange and unusual sensation of anguish threatened to wring out her heart in its ferocious claws. A sob was fighting to climb up her throat. She breathed forcibly through her nose, but it wasn’t because of that that her chest managed to fill with the air that she so anxiously desired. All of a sudden, she brusquely raised her head, her delicate chin facing forwards, and closed her eyes for a few moments while breathing in deeply. With a lively gesture of her right hand, she moved aside the golden hair covering her forehead and opened her eyes once again, livened her step and entered the hotel almost defiantly.

2

At the age of eighteen on the verge of turning nineteen, Livio had failed his June exams, so he had no other choice but to ruin another summer spending it almost entirely in Albacete to study with the other remedial students to be able to write his exams again in September in Murcia to get into university. That summer, he felt more restless than usual. He sat in front of his books and noticed that he was almost incapable of reading, and even less so of learning or retaining any of the ideas that he read. In the end, desperate, he brusquely got up from his seat, left the study room and marched out onto the street. He wandered around for almost an hour in no particular direction, and night was already falling when the distant murmurs of music fell upon his ears, rhythmic, muted, as if in a dream. Introspective as he had been, he hadn’t realized that he had just walked in front of a nightclub. He raised his head to look forward and saw a beautiful blonde woman walking his way, dressed in pants and a light blouse, with a quick and decided walk. When their paths crossed, he looked up to watch her walk. He was drawn to her narrow waist and the swerve of her hips, sweetened by the slenderness of her figure. He remained still for a few moments and watched her enter the club.

Because he was filled with doubts and had nothing to do at that moment, or in any event, didn’t feel like doing anything, he decided to turn around to retrace his steps and go into the building. While he was going down the steps leading to the underground level where the bar was located, the frenetic rhythm of the room became increasingly stronger in his ears. By the time he had gotten down the stairs, his feet seemed to be bouncing to the music and he could feel his entire body burning with desire to dissipate and turn into the notes on the breeze.

Upon entering the room, the darkness barely let him make out the figures at first. He couldn’t see the blonde anywhere, so he headed to the counter and leaned on it on his elbows and handed a waiter his door ticket at the same time that he asked him if he wanted anything to drink. Livio looked distractedly around the room, lifted up his right elbow to rest it on the counter for a moment, and then picked up the drink that he had been served. He swirled it around in his hands for a moment and then brought it to his lips. Drink in hand, he wandered around the room for a short distance, until sitting down in a moderately comfortable armchair where he could watch the dancers. He had only been there for a few minutes when an agile shadow crossed in front of him, sitting a few meters away from him after lightly grazing his knees, which were flexed at an almost right angle. He instinctively turned his head and saw the blonde there, sitting with a drink in her hands, which she left on the low table that formed a sort of sofa set along with its two armchairs and two other chairs, a reserved corner that isolated them from the rest of the people in the room, who were only scattered here and there because it was quiet at the moment. The blonde gazed at him almost intensely, to the point that he started to feel a bit uncomfortable.

BLONDE: Hi.

Her voice was direct and almost jovial. Her smile was open and her eyes shone with a certain happiness. A look of worry crossed Livio’s face, which could have been a smile, but he wasn’t too sure that that was the case.

BLONDE: Do you speak English?

LIVIO: ¿Cómo?

BLONDE: ¿Tú sabes hablar inglés?

He responded to her in Spanish.

LIVIO: No, not much, I don’t know.

She remained silent for a few moments, took her cup and drank a small sip while looking at him directly over the silvery shine of the glass. Afterwards, she shook her glass, making the ice cubes jingle happily.

LIVIO: What are you drinking?

BLONDE: Whiskey with a bit of water. What’s your name? Do you dance?

LIVIO: No, I just came in for a few minutes because I was aburridillo…

BLONDE: Abu…what?

LIVIO: Aburri… It’s all the same. I didn’t know what to do.

BLONDE: Oh, I get it.

Once again, the short-haired blonde in the tight-fitting pants shook her glass, making the sound of the ice echo off the walls, later drinking a sip of its contents.

LIVIO: I’m Livio. What about you?

BLONDE: Barbara or Babbie. Let’s dance.

The girl got up and took his hand, making like to head to the dance floor. Livio rejected her for a few seconds and remained seated.

LIVIO: No, I don’t feel like dancing right now.

Babbie sat down again and looked at him somewhat strangely. Nervous, he grabbed his glass and took another drink, this time a long one until less than half the liquid remained.

BABBIE: Why?

LIVIO: I don’t know.

BABBIE: Okay, whatever you want.

As the moments passed, Livio felt more and more upset. That beautiful blonde wanted to dance with him and it had been her who had asked. He didn’t understand at all. In the end, he made his decision and got up.

LIVIO: Let’s dance then.

She looked at him angrily and didn’t budge an inch, while scrutinizing him with a sarcastic look from the depths of her beautiful blue eyes.

BABBIE: I don’t want to dance anymore.

LIVIO: What’s wrong?

Livio felt like more and more of a mess every second. He picked up his glass and took a long drink, looking at her intensely without daring to make a move. In the end, he put his drink on the table, crossed his arms and looked at her directly.

LIVIO: I don’t get you.

BABBIE: And I don’t get you either.

Her voice was decided and almost cutting. In the end, she let out a special little laugh that tickled Livio’s ears, making him feel important.

BABBIE: Okay then, let’s dance.

The two of them got up and headed to the dance floor. Livio moved aside slightly to let her through, but she grabbed his right hand in her left and calmly and with almost extreme sweetness took him to the middle of the dance floor. Once there, she let go of his hand and put both arms around his neck, gluing her body to his, starting to sway it in time with the melody whose beat was currently sounding in the room. Livio put his hands on her waist and let himself be rocked in the slow dance to the rhythm of Babbie’s hips. The young man felt something become aroused and rebel within himself; he understood it less and less. Closely intertwined, the minutes went by without him realizing, her head softly resting on his shoulder while she pressed her body closely up against his, leaving him infused with all of her heat.

All of a sudden, the rhythm got faster. The DJ in the room had moved on to a new set and the quick beat of rock ‘n roll could be heard. Babbie moved away from him and took him by the hand once again, softly tugging Livio to sit back down on the sofa set, this time beside each other. The girl put her hands on his neck and kissed him. For a moment, he moved away, confused.

BABBIE: Didn’t you like it?

LIVIO: It’s not that. I wouldn’t know how to explain it.

She smiled softly and once again embraced and kissed him. After that, she snuggled her head up against Livio’s shoulder, while her right hand remained tenderly in the young man’s right hand. They stayed that way for a long time without saying anything. Livio didn’t dare break that delicious silence.

Finally, Babbie stirred slightly, stretching her arm after letting go of his hand and finishing the contents of her drink.

BABBIE: I’m still thirsty. Let’s have another drink.

LIVIO: I don’t have more money with me right now. I was just passing by.

BABBIE: I don’t care. I’ll pay for it. What do you want to drink?

LIVIO: It’s all the same to me. Whatever you’re having.

Babbie called over the waiter and ordered two whiskeys on the rocks with a little bit of water. Livio finished off the contents of his previous drink before the waiter brought the new one. When they were alone once again, she curled back up softly on his right shoulder and took his hand, this time in both of hers. Livio looked at her out of the corner of his eye and could see that she had closed her eyes. She appeared to be asleep, so he preferred to stay quiet and still, without saying a thing, without moving a single atom in his body.

LIVIO: Where are you from?

The young man’s voice reached Babbie’s ears like a subtle and quavering whisper. She felt happy leaning on his shoulder, so distant from the worries of her lost story. For a few seconds, a hard expression overcame the soft and pleasant smile at the corners of her lips. She opened her eyes for a few moments and looked up to contemplate Livio’s dark eyes, which were gazing at her with inviting accusations.

BABBIE: From Australia.

Babbie closed her eyes once again and moved slightly to curl up against Livio’s side a little better. Her hands softly stroked the young man’s.

BABBIE: You’re coming with me to the hotel, right Livio?

The young man’s body shuddered for a few instants. He released her, although without daring to remove his hand from in between those of the appetizing blonde. Her eyes gazed at him firmly, and