Guardian Angel
Bibliographic Data
| ID | 4377490 |
|---|---|
| Authors | Rubem Fonseca, Clifford E Landers |
| Year | 2009 |
| Volume | 83 |
| Issue | 4 |
| Pages | 40-43 |
| Publication date | 2009-01-01 |
| Open Access | No |
| Type | ARTICLE |
| Venue | World Literature Today (JOURNAL) |
| Journal identifiers | ISSN: 0196-3570 • E-ISSN: 1945-8134 |
| Publisher | Project MUSE (PUBLISHER • US) |
| DOI | 10.1353/wlt.2009.0189 |
| OpenAlex | W4206453652 |
| Language | EN |
| Citations received | 1 |
Guardian Angel Rubem Fonseca he house had several bedrooms. I asked which of them Iwas supposed to sleep in. JL. She tookme to a bedroom that was close to hers. I sat on thebed, tested the mattress. "No good, it's too soft. It'llkillmy back." I tested themattresses in all the bedrooms until I found a firmone. "This one's good. You got a shirt I can use? I forgottobring anything to sleep in." The woman came back right away with a white shirt. "This is the largest Ihave. I justwore itonce, does it matter?" I thanked thewoman and said good night. I put on the shirt,smelled the scent in the fabric,a mixture of clean skin and perfume. I looked fora position to sleep.My back hurt. Ihad a lotofbroken and badly healed bones scat teredaround my body. The woman knocked on thedoor so softlythat Inearly didn't hear her. "Yes?" "It's me. I'd like to speak to you." "One moment." Iput onmy pants and opened thedoor. She was wearing a robe, and a woman in a robe always reminds me of my mother. In fact, theonly thing I remember aboutmy mother is the robe. "You're too far away, I don't feel protected. I can't sleep. Can't you go to the room next tomine? We can take the firm mattress from thisbed and exchange it for the other one." I tookmy firm mattress to thebedroom next to hers. I sat on thebed. "I thinkeverything's all rightnow. I can sleep on this. Good night." "Good night." I couldn't takemore then tenminutes lying down. The pain in my spine increased. Igot out of bed and sat inan armchair that was in the room. Another knock on thedoor. "What is it?" "I heard a noise in thegarden," shewhispered through thedoor. "I think there's someone in the garden." Iput onmy pants. Opened thedoor. She was still inher robe. "It must be your imagination. You're very nervous. Where in the garden?" "In the magnolia grove. There aren't any lights there,and Ihad the impression that I saw a lightgoing on and off." "You have a flashlight?" | "Yes." ? The woman gave me the flashlight. ? "Be careful. I've told you thehorrible things *g thathave been happening with me, haven't I?" x "You ought to go to your apartment in the ? city." g u "It's worse there. I had to disconnect the =^ telephone because of the calls in themiddle of| the night, threateningme. And there are people ^ followingme in the street. Here, at least, thereare| bars on all thewindows and thedoors aremetal. I Take the revolver." ? o X Q. 40 i World Literature Today FICTION "It's better if you keep the revolver. Lock the door. And don't go looking out through the window." Itwas a large country estate. A lawn with flowerbeds ringed thehouse. In the middle of the grass, a swimming pool. In the rear, the caretaker's house and the garden. The restof the estatewas woods and large trees, which made thenight even darker. Stone benches were scattered among the trees. I sat down on one of them, in the magnolia grove. Iwaited, with the litflashlighton thebench. Sonya emerged silentlyfromthedarkness and satdown beside me on the stonebench. "Did you leave the revolverwhere she could see it?" "I leftitinher hand. I'm followingyour plan." "Listen to this noise," Sonya said, taking a recorder fromher purse and turning it on. It sounded like the moan of someone dying. "Doesn't itsound likea ghost?" "You two are lucky there's no dog here." "Therewas. We poisoned it.Jorge poisoned it. When's she going touse the revolver?" "She's scared to death, let's wait a bit. Who's Jorge?" "Ifyou don't know, I'm not going to tellyou." "Why do you want the woman dead?" "That's none of your concern." "I'm going back to the house. Turn off the moans. That's enough for now." "Don't forget our agreement," Sonya said. "This has tobe taken care ofwithin threedays. If she's stillundecided, you put thebullet inher head yourself." Iwent back to thehouse. The woman opened
Archaeology · Art · Art history · Bedroom · Guardian · Political science · Visual arts · History · Law · Literature, Magical Realism, García Márquez
| Citations per year | 0.07 |
|---|---|
| Citation span | 2012 - 2012 (1) |
| Highly cited | No |