All Is Silence Read Online Free PDF Page B

everything. Without a single shovelful of manure! You don’t have to fertilise it, like the blasted earth.’
    Leda jumped down the vertical face and marched towards the group of harvesters. Fins always had the impression that his feet sank in the sand more than hers. She didn’t sink, she seemed to walk on the surface. Especially when she had an objective in mind. A destination.
    ‘These oranges are mine!’ she shouted. ‘I saw them first!’
    Rumbo and his companions stopped working. Stared at her in amazement. Except for Brinco. Brinco turned his back on them. Sometimes, when he got annoyed, he’d say, ‘You’re always sniffing at other people’s farts.’ But now he preferred not to see them.
    The girl squared up to the boss. ‘You know the rules. A shipwreck’s remains belong to the one who finds them.’
    Rumbo gazed at her with a mixture of amusement and confusion. ‘How much is the cargo worth then, girl?’
    ‘A lot!’
    Leda took in the possessions on the beach with her hands. There were still oranges emerging from the foam. ‘Although I’m not sure yet if I want to sell them.’
    Rumbo pulled a coin out of his pocket. ‘Here you go. For the trouble of seeing.’
    ‘What the hell is that? That’s a piece of shit, Mr Rumbo!’ said Leda.
    The man held the coin between his thumb and forefinger and twirled it mysteriously in front of Leda. ‘Close your eyes.’
    Leda did as she was told. Fins wasn’t sure what was going on. Rumbo flicked the coin in the air and called to the others, ‘Now you’ll see!’
    Rumbo crouched down. Let his hands slide along Leda’s naked legs, from the knees downwards, grabbed her right foot, which was bare, and placed it on top of the coin. All the others were waiting, Brinco as well, who’d returned from the land of the invisible.
    Rumbo was absorbed in his experiment and murmured, ‘Now you’ll see, yes, now you’ll see what a woman’s skin is like.’
    Then, out loud, ‘Tell me, girl, heads or tails?’
    Leda still hadn’t opened her eyes. Without a moment’s hesitation, ‘Tails!’
    She moved her foot and uncovered the coin. It was tails. They could see the imperial eagle. Rumbo had a quick look at the other side, Franco’s head, where it said
Caudillo of Spain by the grace of God
.
    ‘She’s right. It is tails!’
    The group of workers burst out laughing. Rumbo produced a wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a hundred-peseta note with the image of the beautiful Fuensanta painted by Romero de Torres. ‘Take this. A darkie! The most popular in the whole of Spain! Lots of people keep these stuffed in their mattresses.’
    Then, addressing the others, ‘Now you see what a woman’s skin is like. Even the skin on her foot! This one was born wise. She’ll be rich one day. It’s written in the stars.’
    Leda placed the back of her thumb on her mouth. Quickly made the sign of the cross. And spat in the direction of the sea.
    ‘Poor I won’t be.’

8
    TO BE IN the dark and scratch darkness with a broom. The dark’s boundary smells acrid. This is his work. To scratch the crust of shadows. He feels drunk and dirty inside. Possessed by a putrid intoxication. But his instinct tells him to climb the slope and exit through what resembles a fleshy mouth, opening and closing for him. He lies face up on the stony ground. Out of breath to start with. Then, in and out of his body, he feels a tingle like never before. As if, for a moment, all the attention of the cosmos is centred on him.
    He gets up. Looks at the mouth of hell. The great vat. He’s still holding the small broom in his hand. His arms and face are covered in grime spread by his sweat. He’s wearing old, patched-up clothes stained by the work of cleaning. He feels better, even attracted by the mouth, by the now succulent memory of the dizzy spell and his escape.
    It has been a day of great heat, of burning noon. In the yard of the Ultramar the sun is still strong, but the large gate at the