Swift as Desire by Laura Esquivel Page B

grandchildren, in contrast to his relationship with Raúl’s three children, which was more distant. Raúl had moved abroad at a young age and only returned to Mexico with his childrenfor vacations, and lately, not even then. The children were already married and had children of their own. Their lives were established outside the country, and they didn’t visit their Mexican family as often as their relatives desired. Don Júbilo maintained contact with the other side of his family only through letters and telephone calls. On the other hand, he had been there when Lluvia’s children were born, had helped them take their first steps, had played with them until they were all exhausted. He had taught them how to ride a bicycle, to spin tops and shoot marbles, and, since Lluvia’s divorce, he had been like a second father to them: an understanding and loving father, who had guided them through adolescence, had taught them how to drive, had lent them his car when they needed it, and who never gave advice unless they asked for it, because he completely respected his grandchildren’s individuality. Given this background, it wasn’t hard to see why Perla and Federico adored their grandfather and were very upset by his illness.
    Don Júbilo listened attentively to his grandson as he caressed the telegraph machine with trembling hands, as if it were the most precious object he’d ever possessed. When Federico finished his detailed explanation of the operation of the computer program, don Júbilo used the transmitter to speak.
    “This opens up a world of possibilities for me. Thank you all very much.”
    “Thank you? What do you mean,
compadre?
We’re planning to take advantage of your daughter’s investment.We’re going to put you to work as a letter writer in the Plaza de Santo Domingo.”
    Don Júbilo let out a laugh such as Lluvia hadn’t heard in a very long time.
    “Did you know that your
papá
, sometimes, whenever he was really low on money—”
    “Which means, all the time!” interrupted don Júbilo via telegraph.
    “No, seriously, he worked in the Plaza de Santo Domingo for a while, writing love letters, and you can’t imagine how successful he was at it …”
    “Well, yes, but all jobs must end sometime. In those days I could see and speak and move around …”
    “You can’t see, but you sure do know what you’re holding. Just look how you’re handling that machine.”
    Everyone laughed and marveled that don Júbilo, despite not having used a telegraph transmitter in many years, could communicate without the least difficulty.
    “
¡Qué bárbaro eres ’mano!
You’re a great man! Not even I could handle the telegraph that easily,” interjected his friend Reyes.
    “What do you mean, ‘not even I’? Do you think you’re a better telegraph operator than I am?”
    “Forget about him, Jubián! See how conceited he’s become? It’s because he takes less pills than the rest of us.”
    “That’s not true, Chucho, you take less than I do.”
    “Me!? What’s the matter with you!? I take pills for my high blood pressure, my digestion, my heart, and my asthma!”
    “There you go! I take six pills. Two more than you.”
    “Don’t fight, boys. As always, I’ve got you all beat.”
    “Very funny! With the life my Lucha gave you, anybody else would have had every illness in the book!”
    “Maybe so,
chiquito
, but I chose her and put up with her, didn’t I? There’s some merit in that. If the two of you had looked for a woman as complicated, you would now both be beating me with your illnesses.…”
    Lluvia, Perla, Federico, Aurorita, and Nati listened to their laughter, but didn’t join in right away, because they couldn’t yet follow the rhythm of telegraph communication. They had to wait for the message to appear in writing on the monitor before they could react. But despite the lag between their laughter and that of the others, they all enjoyed themselves equally. Lluvia was delighted to