百年孤独(英文版)-第54部分

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　　　“Get　down！　Get　down！？
　　　The　people　in　front　had　already　done　so；　swept　down　by　the　wave　of　bullets。　The　survivors；　instead　of　getting　down；　tried　to　go　back　to　the　small　square；　and　the　panic　became　a　dragon’s　tail　as　one　pact　wave　ran　against　another　which　was　moving　in　the　opposite　direction；　toward　the　other　dragon’s　tail　In　the　street　across　the　way；　where　the　machine　guns　were　also　firing　without　cease。　They　were　Penned　in。　swirling　about　in　a　gigantic　whirlwind　that　little　by　little　was　being　reduced　to　its　epicenter　as　the　edges　were　systematically　being　cut　off　all　around　like　an　onion　being　peeled　by　the　insatiable　and　methodical　shears　of　the　machine　guns。　The　child　saw　a　woman　kneeling　with　her　arms　in　the　shape　of　a　cross　in　an　open　space；　mysteriously　free　of　the　stampede。　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　put　him　up　there　at　the　moment　he　fell　with　his　face　bathed　in　blood；　before　the　colossal　troop　wiped　out　the　empty　space；　the　kneeling　woman；　the　light　of　the　high；　droughtstricken　sky；　and　the　whorish　world　where　？rsula　Iguarán　had　sold　so　many　little　candy　animals。
　　　When　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　came　to　he　was　lying　face　up　in　the　darkness。　He　realized　that　he　was　riding　on　an　endless　and　silent　train　and　that　his　head　was　caked　with　dry　blood　and　that　all　his　bones　ached。　He　felt　an　intolerable　desire　to　sleep。　Prepared　to　sleep　for　many　hours；　safe　from　the　terror　and　the　horror；　he　made　himself　fortable　on　the　side　that　pained　him　less；　and　only　then　did　he　discover　that　he　was　lying　against　dead　people。　There　was　no　free　space　in　the　car　except　for　an　aisle　in　the　middle。　Several　hours　must　have　passed　since　the　massacre　because　the　corpses　had　the　same　temperature　as　a　plaster　in　autumn　and　the　same　consistency　of　petrified　foam　that　it　had；　and　those　who　had　put　them　in　the　car　had　had　time　to　pile　them　up　in　the　same　way　in　which　they　transported　bunches　of　bananas。　Trying　to　flee　from　the　nightmare；　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　dragged　himself　from　one　car　to　an　other　in　the　direction　in　which　the　train　was　heading；　and　in　the　flashes　of　light　that　broke　through　the　wooden　slats　as　they　went　through　sleeping　towns　he　saw　the　man　corpses；　woman　corpses；　child　corpses　who　would　be　thrown　into　the　sea　like　rejected　bananas。　He　recognized　only　a　woman　who　sold　drinks　in　the　square　and　Colonel　Gavilán；　who　still　held　wrapped　in　his　hand　the　belt　with　a　buckle　of　Morelia　silver　with　which　he　had　tried　to　open　his　way　through　the　panic。　When　he　got　to　the　first　car　he　jumped　into　the　darkness　and　lay　beside　the　tracks　until　the　train　had　passed。　It　was　the　longest　one　he　had　ever　seen；　with　almost　two　hundred　freight　cars　and　a　lootive　at　either　end　and　a　third　one　in　the　middle。　It　had　no　lights；　not　even　the　red　and　green　running　lights；　and　it　slipped　off　with　a　nocturnal　and　stealthy　velocity。　On　top　of　the　cars　there　could　be　seen　the　dark　shapes　of　the　soldiers　with　their　emplaced　machine　guns。
　　　After　midnight　a　torrential　cloudburst　came　up。　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　did　not　know　where　it　was　that　he　had　jumped　off；　but　he　knew　that　by　going　in　the　opposite　direction　to　that　of　the　train　he　would　reach　Macondo。　After　walking　for　more　than　three　hours；　soaked　to　the　skin；　with　a　terrible　headache；　he　was　able　to　make　out　the　first　houses　in　the　light　of　dawn。　Attracted　by　the　smell　of　coffee；　he　went　into　a　kitchen　where　a　woman　with　a　child　in　her　arms　was　leaning　over　the　stove。
　　　“Hello；？he　said；　exhausted。　“I’m　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　Buendía。？
　　　He　pronounced　his　whole　name；　letter　by　letter；　in　order　to　convince　her　that　he　was　alive。　He　was　wise　in　doing　so；　because　the　woman　had　thought　that　he　was　an　apparition　as　she　saw　the　dirty；　shadowy　figure　with　his　head　and　clothing　dirty　with　blood　and　touched　with　the　solemnity　of　death　e　through　the　door。　She　recognized　him。　She　brought　him　a　blanket　so　that　he　could　wrap　himself　up　while　his　clothes　dried　by　the　fire；　she　warmed　some　water　to　wash　his　wound；　which　was　only　a　flesh　wound；　and　she　gave　him　a　clean　diaper　to　bandage　his　head。　Then　she　gave　him　a　mug　of　coffee　without　sugar　as　she　had　been　told　the　Buendías　drank　it；　and　she　spread　his　clothing　out　near　the　fire。
　　　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　did　not　speak　until　he　had　finished　drinking　his　coffee。
　　　“There　must　have　been　three　thousand　of　them？he　murmured。
　　　“What？？
　　　“The　dead；？he　clarified。　“It　must　have　been　an　of　the　people　who　were　at　the　station。？
　　　The　woman　measured　him　with　a　pitying　look。　“There　haven’t　been　any　dead　here；？she　said。　“Since　the　time　of　your　uncle；　the　colonel；　nothing　has　happened　in　Macondo。？In　the　three　kitchens　where　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　stopped　before　reaching　home　they　told　him　the　same　thing。　“There　weren’t　any　dead。　He　went　through　the　small　square　by　the　station　and　he　saw　the　fritter　stands　piled　one　on　top　of　the　other　and　he　could　find　no　trace　of　the　massacre。　The　streets　were　deserted　under　the　persistent　rain　and　the　houses　locked　up　with　no　trace　of　life　inside。　The　only　human　note　was　the　first　tolling　of　the　bells　for　mass。　He　knocked　at　the　door　at　Colonel　Gavilán’s　house。　A　pregnant　woman　whom　he　had　seen　several　times　closed　the　door　in　his　face。　“He　left；？she　said；　frightened。　“He　went　back　to　his　own　country。？The　main　entrance　to　the　wire　chicken　coop　was　guarded　as　always　by　two　local　policemen　who　looked　as　if　they　were　made　of　stone　under　the　rain；　with　raincoats　and　rubber　boots。　On　their　marginal　street　the　West　Indian　Negroes　were　singing　Saturday　psalms。　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　jumped　over　the　courtyard　wall　and　entered　the　house　through　the　kitchen。　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　barely　raised　her　voice。　“Don’t　let　Fernanda　see　you；？she　said。　“She’s　just　getting　up。？As　if　she　were　fulfilling　an　implicit　pact；　she　took　her　son　to　the　“chamberpot　room。？arranged　Melquíades？brokendown　cot　for　him　and　at　two　in　the　afternoon；　while　Fernanda　was　taking　her　siesta；　she　passed　a　plate　of　food　in　to　him　through　the　window。
　　　Aureliano　Segundo　had　slept　at　home　because　the　rain　had　caught　him　time　and　at　three　in　the　afternoon　he　was　still　waiting　for　it　to　clear。　Informed　in　secret　by　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad；　he　visited　his　brother　in　Melquíades？room　at　that　time。　He　did　not　believe　the　version　of　the　massacre　or　the　nightmare　trip　of　the　train　loaded　with　corpses　traveling　toward　the　sea　either。　The　night　before　he　had　read　an　extraordinary　proclamation　to　the　nation　which　said　that　the　workers　had　left　the　station　and　had　returned　home　in　peaceful　groups。　The　proclamation　also　stated　that　the　union　leaders；　with　great　patriotic　spirit；　had　reduced　their　demands　to　two　points：　a　reform　of　medical　services　and　the　building　of　latrines　in　the　living　quarters。　It　was　stated　later　that　when　the　military　authorities　obtained　the　agreement　with　the　workers；　they　hastened　to　tell　Mr。　Brown　and　he　not　only　accepted　the　new　conditions　but　offered　to　pay　for　three　days　of　public　festivities　to　celebrate　the　end　of　the　conflict。　Except　that　when　the　military　asked　him　on　what　date　they　could　announce　the　signing　of　the　agreement；　he　looked　out　the　window　at　the　sky　crossed　with　lightning　flashes　and　made　a　profound　gesture　of　doubt。
　　　“When　the　rain　stops；？he　said。　“As　long　as　the　rain　lasts　we’re　suspending　all　activities。？
　　　It　had　not　rained　for　three　months　and　there　had　been　a　drought。　But　when　Mr。　Brown　announced　his　decision　a　torrential　downpour　spread　over　the　whole　banana　region。　It　was　the　one　that　caught　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo　on　his　way　to　Macondo。　A　week　later　it　was　still　raining。　The　official　version；　repeated　a　thousand　times　and　mangled　out　all　over　the　country　by　every　means　of　munication　the　government　found　at　hand；　was　finally　accepted：　there　were　no　dead；　the　satisfied　workers　had　gone　back　to　their　families；　and　the　banana　pany　was　suspending　all　activity　until　the　rains　stopped。　Martial　law　continued　with　an　eye　to　the　necessity　of　taking　emergency　measures　for　the　public　disaster　of　the　endless　downpour；　but　the　troops　were　confined　to　quarters。　During　the　day　the　soldiers　walked　through　the　torrents　in　the　streets　with　their　pant　legs　rolled　up；　playing　with　boats　with　the　children。　At　night　after　taps；　they　knocked　doors　down　with　their　rifle　butts；　hauled　suspects　out　of　their　beds；　and　took　them　off　on　trips　from　which　there　was　no　return。　The　search　for　and　extermination　of　the　hoodlums；　murderers；　arsonists；　and　rebels　of　Decree　No。　4　was　still　going　on；　but　the　military　denied　it　even　to　the　relatives　of　the　victims　who　crowded　the　mandant’s　offices　in　search　of　news。　“You　must　have　been　dreaming；？the　officers　insisted。　“Nothing　has　happened　in　Macondo；　nothing　has　ever　happened；　and　nothing　ever　will　happen。　“This　is　a　happy　town。？In　that　way　they　were　finally　able　to　wipe　out　the　union　leaders。
　　　The　only　survivor　was　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo。　One　February　night　the　unmistakable　blows　of　rifle　butts　were　heard　at　the　door。　Aureliano　Segundo；　who　was　still　waiting　for　it　to　clear；　opened　the　door　to　six　soldiers　under　the　mand　of　an　officer。　Soaking　from　the　rain；　without　saying　a　word；　they　searched　the　house　room　by　room；　closet　by　closet；　from　parlor　to　pantry。　？rsula　woke　up　when　they　turned　on　the　light　in　her　room　and　she　did　not　breathe　while　the　march　went　on　but　held　her　fingers　in　the　shape　of　a　cross；　pointing　them　to　where　the　soldiers　were　moving　about。　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　managed　to　warn　Jos？Arcadio　Segundo；　who　was　sleeping　in　Melquíades？room；　but　he　could　see　that　it　was　too　late　to　try　to　escape。　So　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　locked　the　door　again　and　he　put　on　his　shirt　and　his　shoes　and　sat　down　on　the　cot　to　wait　for　them。　At　that　moment　they　were　searching　the　gold　workshop。　The　officer　made　them　open　the　padlock　and　with　a　quick　sweep　of　his　lantern　he　saw　the　workbench　and　the　glass　cupboard　with　bottles　of　acid　and　instruments　that　were　still　where　their　owner　had　left　them　and　he　seemed　to　understand　that　no　one　lived　in　that　room。　He　wisely　asked　Aureliano　Segundo　if　he　was　a　silversmith；　however；　and　the　latter　explained　to　him　that　it　had　been　Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía’s　workshop。　“Oho；？the　officer　said；　turned　on　the　lights；　and　ordered　such　a　minute　search　that　they　did　not　miss　the　eighteen　little　gold　fishes　that　had　not　been　melted　down　and　that　were　hidden　behind　the　bottles　Is　their　tin　can。　The　officer　examined　them　one　by　one　on　the　workbench　and　then　he　turned　human。　“I’d　like　to　take　one；　if　I　may；？he　said。　“At　one　time　they　were　a　mark　of　subversion；　but　now　they’re　relics。？He　was　young；　almost　an　adolescent；　with　no　sign　of　timidity　and　with　a　natural　pleasant　manner　that　had　not　shown　itself　until　then。　Aureliano　Segundo　gave　him　the　little　fish。　The　officer　put　it　in　his　shirt　pocket　with　a　childlike　glow　in　his　eyes　and　he　put　the　others　back　in　the　can　and　set　it　back　where　it　had　been。
　　　“It’s　a　wonderful　memento；？he　said。　“Colonel　Aureliano　Buendía　was　one　of　our　greatest　men。？
　　　Nevertheless；　that　surge　of　humanity　did　not　alter　his　professional　conduct。　At　Melquíades？room；　which　was　locked　up　again　with　the　padlock；　Santa　Sofía　de　la　Piedad　tried　one　last　hope。　“No　one　has　lived　in　that　room　for　a　century；？she　said。　The　officer　had　it　opened　and　flashed　t