Love in Lowercase

Love in Lowercase by Francesc Miralles Page A

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Authors: Francesc Miralles
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his. Resentment piled up in a stony carapace around my heart until I was as unfeeling as he was.
    After my father died, I started to forgive him. I realized that he’d done all that he was capable of doing for us. I had no right to demand more than he could give.
    It’s so easy to make peace with the dead
. I kept turning the pages of the album.
    I came across myself at the age of three, dressed up as a football player. The next page had a black-and-white photo of my sister in her ballet class. She must have been about eight, and her raised leg was resting on the barre next to a large mirror. Behind her, a row of little girls, their heads held high, did their best to hold the position.
    Then I saw her.
    I could hardly breathe. Another ghost from the past. I saw Gabriela at the back of the room. Like all the other little girls, her leg was on the barre and her arm raised to form an arc. Unlike the others, however, her gaze wasn’t lost in the effort to keep her balance. She was looking straight at the camera.
    I carefully detached the photo. This was the little girl I’d met under the stairs. Like an adolescent worshipping an idol, I gently kissed the photo and put it in my pocket.

Platform World
    I rushed to the bar as fast as I could. I needed to speak with somebody about what was happening, and Valdemar seemed to be the right person to talk to. But I soon realized that my mission was futile.
    â€œYou see that man in black sitting inside?” He asked me this in an enigmatic tone, pointing with his foot.
    I glanced sideways. The man in question was a young redhead wearing a black jacket and trousers. He had just taken a sip of his beer.
    â€œYes. Who is he?”
    â€œI don’t know, but I’d like to find out.”
    I briefly suspected that Valdemar was attracted to the redhead, but he soon shot down that theory.
    â€œThat man is a great mystery,” he added.
    â€œWhat’s so mysterious about him? He’s just a guy having a beer in a bar.”
    â€œSo it seems, but don’t forget that, like the moon, people have a dark side. You’ll see what I mean in a moment. Do you have a watch?”
    I pulled up the sleeve of my jacket to demonstrate that I did. Valdemar nodded in approval.
    â€œTake note, then: he’s going to stand up at 1:24 exactly, and then he’ll come out that door humming.”
    I looked at my watch. It was 1:21. Although I had no idea what this was all about, I was curious to see if Valdemar could foresee the future. We sat there, in tense silence, waiting for the minute hand to reach the predicted time.
    Indeed, at 1:24 on the dot the redheaded man left a coin on the counter and walked out humming. I was mystified.
    â€œHow did you know that? Is this one of your chess moves?”
    â€œNo.” He chuckled behind his beard. “Simple observation. He’s been coming here for months, and he always does the same thing. No matter what time he gets here, he always stays exactly seventeen minutes, no more, no less. Then he leaves. I discovered this when I started timing him.”
    I couldn’t decide who had the most screws loose: the person who was being timed or the one doing the timing.
    â€œDo you know why he does that?” I asked.
    â€œHow would I know?” His tone was irate. “I’m a physicist and I stick with the facts—which in themselves are already quite disconcerting. When you start paying attention to what’s going on around you, you discover that you’ve been blind to a whole world of signs. There’s nothing soothing about that, I can assure you.”
    â€œYou mean things like the seventeen-minute customer?”
    â€œThat’s nothing, a mere trifle compared with what I know and wish I’d never found out.”
    His words made me think of the prologue to
The Dark Side of the Moon
—which, for the first time, wasn’t on the table. I assumed it was inside his backpack under

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