The Case of Lisandra P. (23 page)

Go and be with your mistress, did you think I wouldn't realize?
Lisandra asks him, to see if this evening, like all the other evenings, he is going to lie to her.

“Where are you going?”

“To the movies.”

“Again?”

“Just because you don't want to go anymore doesn't mean I shouldn't go, either.”

Lisandra can't help herself, force of habit.

“You didn't use to go so often.”

“That's how it is, depends on the period. It clears my mind. I need that.”

“Of course, you need it.”

But Lisandra immediately regains her composure. She doesn't want this to turn into their usual argument. Not tonight. There are other things at stake tonight. She asks again. To protect him. To make sure he won't have any problems.

“Are you sure?”

But Vittorio stiffens and it ends like all their arguments have ended, for weeks.

“You're suffocating me, Lisandra, I can't take any more; I told you I'm going to the movies, just come with me if you don't believe me.”

She knows he's lying. Vittorio knows very well she won't go with him. Just because you lose all hope, it doesn't mean you lose all pride. He would deserve to have it all land on him. Suddenly she thinks that if she didn't put the gray jacket out, Vittorio could get into trouble. But she will put out the gray jacket. She has other aims, far beyond punishing an unfaithful husband. Lisandra even manages to see him to the door. Lisandra even manages to smile.

“Have a good evening.”

Lisandra closes the door behind him. And that's when her determination falters again. But only briefly. Barely. She goes over to the radio. Puts on some music, loud. She hums. “I took my first steps here; now I'm back again with my cards worn down.”
*
She mustn't think too much. She may be courageous but she mustn't think too much. She looks at the clock. He will be here soon. Lisandra can't believe it. Lucas will be here in less than one hour. He will ring the
bell. To her door. She goes into her bedroom. She opens the dresser drawer. She takes out the jacket. Unfolds it. A man's jacket. The gray jacket from the dry cleaners'. She puts it on. She looks at her reflection in the mirror of her vanity table. He's right, she's not beautiful. She looks at the business card between her fingers. “Lucas Juegos.” It disgusts her. She slips the card into the right-hand pocket of the gray jacket. Lucas is right-handed, she knows that. Thanks to memories. Thanks to images. When you're right-handed, you stay right-handed. What if he doesn't come? She puts the jacket on the back of the armchair. He won't see it. But the policemen will, they'll see it. She laughs like a child who's come up with a good prank. A surprise. She laughs. With fear, too, a little bit. Pepe is no longer there to protect her. She double-checks. The door is bolted. Lucas can't come in without her knowing. He will ring. And Lisandra goes back into the living room. She takes out a bottle of white wine. A glass. Two glasses. She pours a glass for herself. She drinks it down in one go. Don't drink too much. She throws the glass onto the floor. The other glass, too. She dances, dances, dances. How will Lucas react when he realizes? She whirls around the armchair. She whirls around the lamp. She whirls around the vase, and then her determination falters. No, not her determination. Her heart. Lisandra thinks of Vittorio. Of all the beautiful flowers that were in this vase one day. Flowers of love. She takes it in her arms. Fill it up. Fill it up. Fill it up. She squeezes the vase to her chest. She heads toward the bathroom. She puts the vase down in the bathtub and runs the water into it. She looks at the clothes on the floor. Near the bathtub, her clothes. Near the shower, Vittorio's. Before, their clothes formed a single pile. She begins to cry. Her tears mingle with the water in the vase. Her knees are bent, on the floor, and they are hurting. But she doesn't feel it. She stands up. She goes back into the living room. She puts the heavy vase onto the
little table. She puts the music on even louder. She looks at the clock. She looks at the vase. She stifles a sob. She lifts both hands to her mouth. She bites herself. There. There where it's easy to get to the flesh, between the thumb and index finger. This vase will never hold another woman's flowers. She shoves the vase with her two outstretched arms. Her hand is purplish where she bit it. But she doesn't feel it. The vase shatters. The water spreads across the floor. Are those tears on the floor? She turns around, knocks over the lamp, flings a chair to the floor. Then the other one, the one holding the jacket. She makes sure it can't be seen. All that matters is that the policemen see it when they pick up the chair. She can't help double-checking that the business card is still in the pocket. When the policemen find it they will go straight to the address of the shop and they will arrest Lucas, who won't be able to defend himself. Unless he tells them the whole truth and admits to his real crime. Lisandra dances, dances. And she waits. If she only knew. When Commissioner Perez picks up the chair he'll shrug his shoulders. “This jacket must belong to the victim's husband. Is there a murderer on the planet who would forget his jacket at the crime scene? In the middle of winter on top of it?” Commissioner Perez will hang the jacket from the coatrack in the entrance, but he'll check the size, all the same: 52. And because it's his job to leave no stone unturned, he will ask Vittorio to state his jacket size. “Fifty-two.” Just as he thought; yet again, he was right: this jacket belongs to Dr. Puig. Lisandra waits and she dances, she dances. What is he doing? She heads over to the window to open it. She almost forgot to open it. What an idiot. She feels the cold air rush in and over her. Instantaneously. Sometimes she watches herself dancing. Now she can't. The doorbell rings. That's it, he's here. She looks all around her. Everything is ready. She goes over to the door. She looks through the spyhole. Lucas is there. She looks at his face that doesn't know
she is looking at him. “Just a second. I'm coming.” She slides the bolt. It's all over; she won't be afraid anymore.

“Come in, I'll show you my broken doll. Her name is Lisandra.”

Lisandra walks back into the living room. She hears him mumble to himself, behind her, “Lisandra.” She walks quickly; she walks straight ahead. The pieces of glass crunch beneath her shoes, but she doesn't feel it. She leans against the window. She looks at Lucas. She smiles at him. At that very moment, he recognizes her. She knows. She can tell. And she stamps her foot, short and sharp. She doesn't jump. No, she doesn't jump. Anything but that. Just a short sharp stamp of the foot, as if she'd been pushed. As if Lucas had pushed her, and she feels her body fall. She could have done it without him there, but then he'd have had an alibi. And he mustn't have an alibi. Lucas had to pay. Lisandra's mind goes spinning. Images rush by. At full speed. The way life goes in its final fleeting moments.

6TH FLOOR

Lucas is my nanny Nati's son she's nice Nati but she's still Lucas's mommy daddy drops me off there every morning before work and mommy picks me up every night after work you have to find someone to watch your kids when you work and you have to work to provide for your kids the house is next to the road I go in through a big iron gate I cross the patio I jump from one white stone to another white stone to avoid the crocodiles that are watching me on the yellow stones I get to the front door I go in and there's Negrito who gives me a nice bark to say hello and the kitchen is on the right and the living room is on the left to watch TV and straight ahead there's a corridor which goes on and on and on with the door that goes
down to the basement by the stairway that is like a comma actually this house looks a lot like my house like a lot of houses actually too bad for me I see this house a little wherever I go I lived there on Monday on Tuesday on Wednesday on Thursday on Friday from the time I was almost four months old to the time I was nearly five years old I don't want to brush my teeth in the morning anymore like lots of kids it's true I'm not hungry in the morning anymore like lots of kids it's true or in the evening either I feel sick in the car in the morning like lots of kids you couldn't guess why it's true but I wish someone had guessed because what I went through there it's true too I sit on the floor on the carpet my back against the sofa I'm watching TV and Nati says “I'm going shopping you keep an eye on her I won't be long” Lucas is lying on the other part of the sofa he answers “yes” when the front door closes he sits up and he says “come with me” and I get up I know the way I open the door in the corridor I go down the stairs that are like a comma my head is spinning the way it does when I'm on the swing too long I stop on every step but Lucas shoves me in the back so that I'll keep going downstairs there's a room with a washing machine and an ironing board with a bed there too and I sit on the bed Lucas takes off all my clothes I don't know how to get undressed by myself yet after that he takes off his trousers he is standing up he is tall and he forces me I look over to the door because I want someone to come faithful Negrito comes but a dog can't do anything I listen to the sound of the washing machine

5TH FLOOR

“stop following me everywhere like this!”

“when is mommy coming? when is mommy coming?”

“later”

“when is mommy coming?”

“stop asking that question”

“when is mommy coming?”

“never”

I start crying I am so afraid so afraid

“no it's not true that was just a joke she'll be here soon your mommy”

and Nati takes me on her lap

“you won't go shopping will you huh you won't go shopping?”

“no I don't have any shopping to do today”

“Lisandra didn't stop asking for you today”

mommy: “is that right?”

me: “yes”

mommy: “but you mustn't darling you know I won't ever forget you”

I look down and I wish I was a boy if I was a boy Lucas wouldn't do that to me I'm under the table in the dining room I always have my blanket with me Lucas pulls me out from under the table he knows I'm not playing hide-and-seek but he wants to pretend to play it with me but I don't want to and this time Nati is here she's doing the dishes she didn't go shopping I feel strong and protected so I bite him he pulls back his hand I'm happy but at the same time I'm a little scared “come here!” it's Nati calling “why did you do that? say you're sorry” I
don't say sorry “you don't want to say sorry? you want me to show you what that feels like? you want me to show you?” and Nati bites me hard on top of my hand there there where it's easy to get to the flesh between the thumb and index finger and she says “you see how it hurts now say you're sorry” I say sorry “you're a very bad little girl and I'm going to tell your mommy tonight” and she doesn't speak to me all day long “I don't speak to

4TH FLOOR

naughty little girls I sure don't” she says and that night in the car mommy kisses me where the bite mark is and it makes it feel better I think she understands but then she says it's not nice to bite other people only naughty little girls bite so everyone agrees with him I'm naughty so I'll go on hurting when he's inside my bottom with his weenie next to the bed there's the washing machine and in the washing machine there's me not to be scared anymore I listen to the noise going round and round and it makes me feel better because I know that a washing machine it has to stop and so that means that he's going to stop too I have my face up against the windowpane I look at that house across the street where I could wait for mommy it would be the same but it wouldn't be the same it would be better Lucas walks behind me and he pulls my hair hard just like that for no reason and I don't say anything I can't say anything anymore even though Nati is here I could go tattle like any little girl “Lucas pulled my hair” but I can't tattle anything anymore all the big bad things
like all the little bad things they're all stuck in my throat I can't tattle anymore I'm not a little girl anymore I'm an ugly liar who deserves it and her parents are going to die the front door slams the keys turn in the lock Nati has left to go shopping Lucas gets up he walks by me he doesn't touch me I don't know if he's looking at me I've got my eyes on the floor my thumb in my mouth and I'm trying to drown in the smell of the blue blanket I use to rub my nose when I have my thumb in my mouth keep my thumb in my mouth keep my thumb right in my mouth so he can't put anything else in there he goes out of the room the door slams silence I don't dare move which door will open first the one that will give me back my freedom with Nati back from shopping or the terrible door the other one the one that will bring Lucas back in it's the terrible one I grab the doll on the floor and I start playing with it I make her talk dollie talk and I shake my head as if I were playing even harder and I mustn't be disturbed Lucas goes over to the other part of the sofa with a magazine in his hands I go on talking dollie talk

3RD FLOOR

but not too loud not to disturb him if he wants to read or if he wants to watch TV don't disturb him let him forget about me I don't dare leave the room I have the feeling he'll forget me better if I stay curled up in front of him than if I leave if my body moves it will make him think about my body whereas my motionless body I hope it won't Lucas is absorbed
in his magazine I don't know what comes over me I drop my dollie I'm so scared that I don't have the strength to make believe anymore “come and see” what was I thinking to let go of my doll I pick her up again I concentrate on her and I don't answer him if I don't speak to him maybe Lucas will go do something else maybe he won't come for me I can feel him leaning toward me “come and see I said” I get up but I stay there maybe he's going to show me from a distance and afterward I can sit back down and it'll be over his legs are on the living room table like an A with the magazine on his thighs I know the letter A it's the one you get in mAmA and in pApA Lucas isn't looking at me he's looking at his magazine “look she's my favorite but come and see” Lucas strikes his hand on the page that's on his thigh I go closer I stand there and I lean my head over toward the magazine a blonde woman with very big breasts her legs spread is looking at me sticking her tongue out she's wearing tons of makeup she's naked “come on” and once again the door to the corridor that goes down and the stairs like a comma and my head spinning and Lucas behind me pushing me at every step a little brown-haired girl with no breasts no makeup legs spread all naked sticking her tongue out “open your eyes and look at me I said you're really hopeless not like that are you an idiot or what? do like her look at me!” he asks me to act as if I'm his
favorite
and it all starts again his tongue his weenie it all starts again like every time but I'm not his
favorite
he keeps saying I'm ugly so ugly that he's
doing it to me because I'm not pretty so ugly “I don't know how your parents manage to love you on top of it you're naughty” and I don't know why I'm