Lugur waited for the café; strictly speaking, he preferred to elucidate his wife’s expression before drinking it. Adela’s face revealed a certain discomfort: as if some behavior of Lugur, unknown to him, had irritated her. There would be no choice but to speak, or listen to her.
But didn’t want to ruin the first sip of coffee of the day. He even preferred to dump the cold contents of that cup down the kitchen sink grate, and make himself another when the argument had died down.
In more than twenty years of marriage and two children, Lugur had learned that arguments happened; but a badly drunk coffee would ruin your day.
“I have to tell you something,” Adela announced.
Lugur’s stomach muscles clenched.
Rocío, the youngest, 19 years old, suddenly entered the kitchen, and both Lugur and Adela imposed a certain normality, or lack of intentionality in their looks.
The girl greeted them with a good morning, and as soon as she fixed her eyes on her own cup of coffee, Adela motioned for Lugur to leave. In the courtyard, at the back, they could talk without being heard. Lugur lit a cigarette to justify his position in the house. He never smoked in the mornings. But that morning perhaps it was necessary do it.
“The time has come to tell you the truth,” Adela began.
Lugur couldn’t even imagine what that personal news would be.
Of course, all the riddles were pitiful. But none matched any prior suspicion.
– All these years -Adela detailed, paused, and unlocked- were a theatrical exercise.
Lugur stubbed out his cigarette. Of all the possible disasters-the predictable, the terrifying, the pathetic, a Greek tragedy or an Italian tragicomedy-this revelation had not been cataloged. It was such an unexpected irruption that even somewhat relieved him.. His question was not original: -As a theatrical exercise?
– At the age of twenty, when we met, I was a member of the Vital Theater group.
Adela looked for an invisible point in the calm sky, neither gray nor light blue, in an indeterminate climate.
– If I want to be totally honest -she continued-, I was part of the Vital Theater group, and that’s why we met.
“I’ve never heard of any Vital Theater,” Lugur stammered, bewildered. We met in Professor Ervind’s Geography class; You asked if history and geography…
“Yes, yes,” Adela admitted. We said it a million times. But I had already selected you. I already participated in the Teatro Vital. You had to choose a partner, a boyfriend, a husband. Someone with whom to make life.
“I don’t understand,” Lugur lied.
He understood, it was hard for him to accept.
– Our courtship, our marriage, this life… were part of a theatrical exercise.
– Children? he asked in a small Lugur voice. Dew? Nacho?
Adele nodded silently. Lugur thought her face would twitch, that she would confess through tears. But she only repeated, impassive: – A theatrical exercise.
Lugur he burst out laughing which surprised him.
– And how’s it going now? she consulted, as if the outburst had unblocked her throat.
“Now I’ll do my job,” Adela pointed out. That is my calling. I will be an actress. I’m ready.
20 years of life flashed through Lugur’s memory. Every situation had been a fiction. The suffering of childbirth, the taste of food, the tranquility of a trip down the river alone. The moment when he had believed himself king. All a farce.
– But… What does that involve us? -Lugur insisted, and clarified: -I mean Nacho, Rocío, me.
“I don’t know,” Adela reported. Everyone will have to make their own decisions. I’m going to Finland. There I will interpret the classics of the Scandinavian sagas: it is our master’s work. There is a whole cast.
– Men too? Lugur asked feeling stupid.
“Of course,” Adele confirmed.
– And the boys? Lugur infantilized them, seeking to reach the mother’s heart.
“Tell them the truth,” Adela replied. You can tell him, I can tell him. But I don’t think I see them anymore. For the next ten years, she probably won’t come back here. The stage acting part is very demanding.
“They could come visit you,” Lugur murmured.
“At your own risk,” Adela challenged. Biologically, they are my children. But my real relationship with them is like that of any actress with the characters that make up her family in a series. Try to think of that: as if we were The Ingalls familybut off set.
“I can’t think of it,” Lugur admitted, and gave a low, sad laugh. I’ll need another twenty years to assimilate it.
“It’s not that long,” Adela relativized. We are young. And now more: because I start my life.
“The boys…” Lugur muttered.
“They’re already big,” Adela dismissed. They must also have their things. I don’t think they care that much.
Lugur put his hand to his face. He took his jaw. He decided at full speed.
– When you leave?
– I can’t stay another hour -she said-. It is part of the exercise.
“Come with me to the kitchen,” Lugur declared. “We woke up Nacho. You repeat everything you just told me, and you leave.
Adele agreed.
Lugur lit his second cigarette. This morning it was for smoking, after all.
WD