There has never been a single day of peace since the incident. No one pointed at me, judged me or reproached me for what happened.
I paid for my years in jail. But I could never, ever pay for my sin.
-Dad, stop ignoring me. Let's play hide and seek. Please, please, please.
And here we go again, no one sees the blue-skinned girl dripping water on the floor. I don't know if I'm crazy or her spirit is haunting me. But all I'd like is for that piece of shit...to stop calling me "daddy."
No ha habido ni un solo día de paz desde el incidente. Nadie me señaló, ni me juzgó, ni me reprochó lo ocurrido.
Pagué por mis años en la cárcel. Pero nunca, nunca pude pagar por mi pecado.
-Papá, deja de ignorarme. Vamos a jugar al escondite. Por favor, por favor, por favor.
Y aquí vamos de nuevo, nadie ve a la niña de piel azul goteando agua en el suelo. No sé si estoy loco o su espíritu me persigue. Pero lo único que me gustaría es que ese pedazo de mierda... dejara de llamarme "papá". Siempre tengo flashes desordenados en mi cabeza.
I always have messed up flash-blags in my head. And I don't know if they're moments I treasure or loathe anymore.
The day the baby girl was born, she was tiny, pink, identical to her mother. She loved them dearly.
Her first day of school. As she held my hand, she didn't want to be separated from me. We went everywhere together.
I remember my wife's laughter, her melody. Her candor. That she always seemed to be at peace, always seemed to be good and kind.
Y ya no sé si son momentos que atesoro o que detesto. El día que nació la niña, era pequeñita, rosa, idéntica a su madre. Las quería mucho.
Su primer día de colegio. Mientras me cogía de la mano, no quería separarse de mí. Íbamos juntos a todas partes.
Recuerdo la risa de mi mujer, su melodía. Su franqueza. Que siempre parecía estar en paz, siempre parecía ser buena y amable.
The day she was diagnosed with cancer, the day I thought would be the worst day of my life. But, mistake. It can always get worse...and if something can go wrong, it will. "Murphy's Law."
My whole life went downhill from there. Everything moved forward very aggressively. It got pale, thin. She was vomiting a lot. She would lose consciousness. Ultimately she was hallucinating, screaming in anger. She tried to hang Clementine, our little girl. He would tell her it was a curse and the only thing he regretted in life.
I limited my wife's contact with the child. She was traumatically scarring our daughter, and I was duty bound to protect her.
-Dad, what did I do to her? Why does she hate me? I'm afraid..." His look had many doubts that I didn't know how to address.
El día que le diagnosticaron cáncer, el día que pensé que sería el peor día de mi vida. Pero, error. Siempre puede ser peor... y si algo puede salir mal, lo hará. "La ley de Murphy".
Toda mi vida fue cuesta abajo a partir de ahí. Todo avanzó de forma muy agresiva. Se puso pálido, delgado. Vomitaba mucho. Perdía el conocimiento. Al final, alucinaba, gritaba de rabia. Intentó ahorcar a Clementine, nuestra pequeña. Le decía que era una maldición y lo único que lamentaba en la vida.
Limité el contacto de mi mujer con la niña. Estaba marcando traumáticamente a nuestra hija, y yo tenía el deber de protegerla.
-Papá, ¿qué le he hecho? ¿Por qué me odia? Tengo miedo..." Su mirada tenía muchas dudas que no sabía cómo abordar.
-Don't be afraid, she's not going to hurt you, baby. And you didn't do anything wrong, she loves you, you just have to understand that she's very sick.
-I know she won't hurt me. But I'm afraid she'll die hating me daddy. I couldn't say anything to that. I couldn't figure out when my wife would regain lucidity, or if she would before she died. But to hear "when she dies"...it was a sentence. For the first time it was clear. Clementine gave me a slap of reality. It wasn't a "probability," my wife really was dying.
I began to devote even more of my time to her. I quit my job. I took out a loan. I fought the odds. I drove hours for her chemotherapies. I fought, I held on. I cried.
And she...she loved me. Her hair kept falling out. Her hemoglobin kept dropping. The metastasis was getting bigger and bigger. The tumor was huge. Her immune system was in shambles. She hated everything, everyone. But she still loved me. She no longer wanted to see her parents, her friends, anyone, she isolated herself only to my company. She didn't want anyone to see her like that. And her love made me love her more.
-No tengas miedo, ella no te va a hacer daño, cariño. Y no has hecho nada malo, ella te quiere, sólo tienes que entender que está muy enferma.
-Sé que no me hará daño. Pero tengo miedo de que se muera odiando a mi papá.
No pude decir nada a eso. No podía saber cuándo mi mujer recuperaría la lucidez, o si lo haría antes de morir. Pero escuchar "cuando se muera"... fue una sentencia. Por primera vez estaba claro. Clementine me dio una bofetada de realidad. No era una "probabilidad", mi mujer se estaba muriendo de verdad.
Empecé a dedicarle aún más tiempo a ella. Dejé mi trabajo. Pedí un préstamo. Luché contra las probabilidades. Conduje durante horas para recibir sus quimioterapias. Luché, aguanté. Lloré.
Y ella... me amaba. Su cabello seguía cayendo. Su hemoglobina seguía bajando. La metástasis se hacía cada vez más grande. El tumor era enorme. Su sistema inmunológico estaba destrozado. Odiaba todo, a todos. Pero todavía me amaba. Ya no quería ver a sus padres, a sus amigos, a nadie, se aislaba sólo con mi compañía. No quería que nadie la viera así. Y su amor me hizo quererla más.
She had lucid days, where she laughed, talked animatedly and seemed about to get out of bed to dance. But that energy would plummet the next day with fever, bronchial aspiration and catatonia.
One day at school Clementine wrote her a letter, it was Mother's Day. The relationship between Clementine and my wife at this point was nil. My wife hated her with fervent potency and although I loved her intensely, my daughter could not suffer the mistreatment of a terminal patient. Nevertheless, I made the attempt.
I walked in with a tray of breakfast and flowers for my wife, gave her a chaste kiss.
-Happy Mother's Day.
Her eyes were like glass, she began to cry. First scattered tears, then a powerful, uncontrolled cry.
-I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.
She gasped.
Tenía días lúcidos, en los que reía, hablaba animadamente y parecía estar a punto de levantarse de la cama para bailar. Pero esa energía caía en picado al día siguiente con fiebre, broncoaspiración y catatonia.
Un día en la escuela, Clementine le escribió una carta, era el Día de la Madre. La relación entre Clementine y mi mujer en ese momento era nula. Mi esposa la odiaba con ferviente potencia y aunque yo la amaba intensamente, mi hija no podía sufrir el maltrato de una paciente terminal. No obstante, hice el intento.
Entré con una bandeja de desayuno y flores para mi mujer, le di un casto beso.
-Feliz día de la madre.
Sus ojos eran como el cristal, empezó a llorar. Primero lágrimas dispersas, luego un llanto poderoso e incontrolado.
-Lo siento mucho. Lo siento mucho.
Ella jadeó.
-I want to get up, go for a walk. Go on a date. Go to the beach. There's so much we won't be able to live because of me. We missed so much. I want so much more from you.
I laid her on my lap and she curled into a little ball. Light, tiny. Fragile.
-It's not your fault. Don't ever say that. You're the best thing that ever happened to me and I'll be here. I'll be here and I won't leave.
-I shouldn't have gotten pregnant when we were just getting married. We had so much left to do as a couple. Not change diapers and anchor ourselves to work like sheep.
-Honey. Clementine is the only thing in the world I'll have left of you if you were to leave me. I love her, and even though we couldn't do more young couple things, I love our daughter, I love you. I love this family. You have made me since I met you the happiest man.
-Quiero levantarme, ir a dar un paseo. Ir a una cita. Ir a la playa. Hay tantas cosas que no podremos vivir por mi culpa. Nos hemos perdido tanto. Quiero mucho más de ti.
La puse en mi regazo y se acurrucó en una bolita. Ligera, diminuta. Frágil.
-No es tu culpa. No digas nunca eso. Eres lo mejor que me ha pasado y estaré aquí. Estaré aquí y no me iré.
-No debería haberme quedado embarazada cuando acabábamos de casarnos. Nos quedaba tanto por hacer como pareja. No cambiar pañales y anclarnos al trabajo como ovejas.
-Miel. Clementine es lo único que me quedaría de ti si me dejaras. La quiero, y aunque no podamos hacer más cosas de pareja joven, quiero a nuestra hija, te quiero a ti. Amo a esta familia. Me has hecho desde que te conocí el hombre más feliz.
She continued to cry loudly, I held her silently. When she was quiet and calmer I told her.
-Clementine made you a letter, she misses you so much. She wants to see you very much. I know it's hard to hear. But we don't know how much time you have left...you don't want to take regrets to your grave. She looked at me, serious. She nodded her head.
-You're right. Tell her to come in.
I went to find Clementine. The little girl couldn't believe it. She preened as fast as she could and went in to see her mother.
-Hi, little one. -How have you been, sweetheart? I was told you have something for me.
Siguió llorando con fuerza, yo la abracé en silencio. Cuando estuvo tranquila y más calmada le dije.
-Clementine te ha hecho una carta, te echa mucho de menos. Tiene muchas ganas de verte. Sé que es difícil de escuchar. Pero no sabemos cuánto tiempo te queda... no querrás llevarte los remordimientos a la tumba.
Me miró, seria. Asintió con la cabeza. -Tienes razón.
Dígale que pase.
Fui a buscar a Clementine. La niña no podía creerlo. Se acicaló lo más rápido que pudo y entró a ver a su madre.
-Hola, pequeña. -¿Cómo has estado, cariño? Me han dicho que tienes algo para mí.
Clementine was excited and nervous.
-Honey, please bring me some water. I'm very thirsty.
-Me too daddy.
I went out to get the water. It gave me peace to finally have my wife open up to Clementi again.
Clementine estaba emocionada y nerviosa.
-Cariño, por favor, tráeme un poco de agua. Tengo mucha sed.
-Yo también papá.
Salí a buscar el agua. Me dio paz que por fin mi mujer se abriera de nuevo a Clementine.
This was important for our daughter's future.
And just as quickly as everything got better, it was destroyed.
Clementine's high-pitched scream made me throw the water glasses. The glass shattering and my heart racing are what I remember most about that moment.
I sprinted up the stairs. The dismal silence that covered the scream made me panic.
I opened the door. My wife was covering Clementine's face with a pillow, putting all her weight on it.
Esto era importante para el futuro de nuestra hija.
Y tan rápido como todo mejoró, se destruyó.
El grito agudo de Clementine me hizo tirar los vasos de agua. El cristal quebrándose y mi corazón desbocado son lo que más recuerdo de ese momento.
Subí a toda marcha las escaleras. El silencio funesto que cubrió al grito me daba pánico.
Abrí la puerta. Mi esposa estaba cubriendo la cara de Clementine con una almohada, poniendo todo su peso sobre ella.
I felt a shock of adrenaline that I later regretted.
I pulled my wife hard to the floor. Clementine was coughing. My wife was crying loudly and tearfully as she cursed Clementine. I took the girl in my arms and carried her out of the room.
-I'm sorry Clementine. I shouldn't have left you alone.
She was so terrified that she just trembled. I had seen it in her eyes, she saw a face of my wife that I had never seen before. She wouldn't say a word. But she didn't want to part from me.
My wife was screaming my name. She was calling me desperately, crying.
Sentí un choque de adrenalina del que luego me arrepentí.
Tire a mi esposa con fuerza al suelo. Clementine tosía. Mi esposa lloraba fuerte y rasgado mientras maldecía a Clementine. Tome a la niña en mis brazos y la saqué de aquella habitación.
-Lo lamento Clementine. No debí dejarte sola.
Estaba tan aterrada que solo temblaba. Lo había visto en sus ojos, ella vio una cara de mi esposa que yo jamás vi. No decía ni una palabra. Pero no quería separarse de mí.
Mi esposa gritaba mi nombre. Me llamaba desesperadamente, lloraba.
-Come here. Please don't leave me alone. Please don't leave me alone.
I'm dying, please.
I heard retching and coughing, but I knew she was manipulating me. Clementine was clinging to my shirt.
-Please daddy, please don't go.
I never went through a harder choice.
-Ven aquí. Por favor no me dejes sola. Por favor. Estoy muriendo, por favor.
Escuchaba arcadas y tos, pero sabía que me estaba manipulando. Clementine se aferraba a mi camisa.
-Por favor papá, por favor no te vayas.
Jamás pase por una elección más difícil.
I had to put Clementine to bed and walked her to sleep. I went to check on my wife. She looked haggard. More than usual. She wasn't angry. She was never mad at me. As she came in she looked at me longingly. With pain. With love.
-Come here," she said.
I sat down next to her. Exhausted. Defeated. The visits to the psychologist to deal with this situation were salt and water. She had already told me that it was useless to reproach her for attitudes that came from a part of her brain that she could not control. That she would not understand me. Still...
-What you did was wrong.
Tuve que acostar a Clementine y la acompañe hasta dormirse. Fui a ver a mi esposa. Se veía demacrada. Más de lo usual. No estaba enojada. Nunca estaba enojada conmigo. Al entrar me miro con nostalgia. Con dolor. Con amor.
-Ven acá- Me dijo
Me senté a su lado. Agotado. Derrotado. Las visitas al psicólogo para llevar esta situación se hacían sal y agua. Ya me había dicho que no servía de nada reprocharle actitudes que venían de una parte de su cerebro que no podía controlar. Que ella no me entendería. Aun así…
-Lo que hiciste estuvo mal.
-I'm dying. I don't want to listen to you. I don't want you to correct me. I don't want you to leave. I don't want you to prefer her. I will die and you can do whatever you want with whomever you want. But here, now, I am alive, and soon I won't be. You must be completely mine until I die. I don't want Clementine in the house. I don't want anything else to occupy your attention. And I don't want to discuss it, negotiate it, or ration it. I'm going to die, I want to do whatever I want. Don't try to debate with her. Nor did I want to antagonize her. It was true, she was dying. I wanted her last step on earth to be as she wanted it to be.
I sent Clementine to her grandparents. And I stayed with her, every minute of every hour of every day. We did everything she wanted. We ate whipped cream. She would ask me to make love to her with her eyes closed and whisper that she loved me. On days of crisis and pain I would hold her hand, and the nurse would put her on morphine. On the not so bad days I would take her out in a wheelchair wherever she wanted. I took her to the beach, we remarried. It was the most bittersweet stage of our marriage.
And she died.
-Estoy muriendo. No quiero escucharte. No quiero que me corrijas. No quiero que te vayas. No quiero que la prefieras. Yo moriré y podrás hacer todo lo que quieras con quien quieras. Pero aquí, ahora, estoy viva, y pronto ya no lo estaré. Debes ser completamente mío hasta que muera. No quiero a Clementine en casa. No quiero nada más que ocupe tu atención. Y no quiero discutirlo, negociarlo o racionarlo. Voy a morir, quiero hacer todo lo que quiera.
No intente debatir con ella. Tampoco quise contrariarla. Era cierto, estaba muriendo. Quería que su último paso en la tierra fuera como quisiera.
Mande a Clementine con sus abuelos. Y me quede con ella, cada minuto, de cada hora de cada día. Hicimos todo lo que ella quiso. Comíamos crema batida. Me pedía hacerle el amor con los ojos cerrados y me susurraba que me amaba. Los días de crisis y dolor yo tomaba su mano, y la enfermera le ponía morfina. Los días no tan malos la sacaba en silla de ruedas a donde ella quisiera. La lleve a la playa, nos volvimos a casar. Fue la etapa más agridulce de nuestro matrimonio.
Y ella murió.
Her laugh, her voice, her smell. It all went away with her. I looked for Clementine on the day of the wake. I was crying, but she didn't seem so upset. In fact, I don't remember seeing her cry.
The house was lonely. Clementine was no longer as lively and talkative. I assumed it was because of everything she was going through. Clementine was acting strange. She would come into my room at night, and try to put on her mother's clothes to lie in bed. I forbade her to touch the things she left behind.
She looked at me with pity, and even though she was only 11 years old, she began to take care of the house without being asked. She tidied, cleaned, washed. I guess she learned a lot about what to do at her grandparents' home.
On her birthday she wanted to kiss me on the mouth. I had to reprimand her. I spanked her a couple of times, but she seemed to enjoy it, which made me very uncomfortable. She started wearing her clothes too short, and walking around the house in her underwear.
Su risa, su voz, su olor. Todo se esfumo con ella. Busque a Clementine el día del velorio. Yo lloraba, pero ella no parecía tan afectada. De hecho, no recuerdo haberla visto llorar.
La casa se sentía sola. Clementine ya no era tan vivaz y conversadora. Supuse que era a raíz de todo por lo que estaba pasando.
Clementine actuaba extraño. Se metía a mi cuarto por las noches, e intentaba ponerse la ropa de su madre para acostarse en la cama. Le prohibí tocar las cosas que dejó.
Me miraba con pena, y aunque solo tenía 11 años empezó a atender la casa sin que se lo pidiera. Ordenaba, limpiaba, lavaba. Supongo que aprendió mucho del que hacer del hogar donde sus abuelos.
El día de su cumpleaños quiso besarme en la boca. Tuve que darle una reprimenda. Le di un par de nalgadas, pero ella pareció disfrutarlo, lo cual me incomodo sentidamente. Empezó a usar la ropa muy corta, y andar en la casa en ropa interior.
I felt strange in her presence. I didn't know how to act around her anymore. So I took her to a psychologist. He said she seemed fine but that it might be a way of expressing the grief she had been repressing. That he would give her time and not make her feel rejected. Because she said her mother hated her and now I did too.
I tried to be more understanding of her. We did father-daughter activities. We started playing hide and seek a lot. So one day I decided to hide in her room. I went into the closet.
She was slow to find me but when she found out I was in the closet she got very nervous and upset. She started yelling at me to respect her privacy and to never go through her things again. This set off my alarm bells. I pretended to understand her position but I kept an eye on her from that moment on.
I always checked her purse before leaving the house and one of the days she went to school I went into her room and checked her closet. There was nothing there. I looked all over the room. The drawers, shelves, boxes. There was nothing strange. Until it occurred to me to check under her mattress.
There was a folded sheet of paper, I knew the smell emanating from the paper.
Me sentía extraño en su presencia. Ya no sabía cómo actuar cerca de ella. Así que la lleve al psicólogo. El decía que ella parecía estar bien pero que podría ser una forma de expresar la pena que había estado reprimiendo. Que le diera tiempo y no la hiciera sentir rechazada.
Porque ella decía que su madre la odiaba y ahora yo también lo hacía. Intente ser más comprensivo con ella. Hacíamos actividades padre e hija. Empezamos a jugar muy seguido a las escondidas. Así que un día de tantos decidí esconderme en su cuarto. Me metí al closet.
Ella tardaba en encontrarme pero al descubrir que estaba en el closet se puso muy nerviosa y molesta. Empezó a gritarme que respetara su privacidad y que jamás volviera a revisar en sus cosas. Esto activo mis alarmas. Fingí entender su postura pero la vigile desde ese momento.
Revisaba siempre su bolso antes de salir de casa y uno de los días que fue a la escuela entre a su cuarto y revisé su closet. No había nada allí. Busque por todo el cuarto. Las gavetas, repisas, cajas. No había nada extraño. Hasta que se me ocurrió revisar bajo su colchón.
Allí estaba una hoja doblada, conocía el olor que emanaba del papel.
It was my wife's perfume. It had "To Jack" written on the outside.
Oh, shit.
Oh, shit.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
It was a letter to me, from her.
It was at that moment, when I knew that whatever was in that letter, Clementine wanted to hide it from me.
Era el perfume de mi esposa. Tenía escrito por fuera “Para Jack”.
Mierda.
Mierda.
Mierda.
Era una carta para mí, de ella.
Fue en ese momento, cuando supe que hubiera lo que hubiera en esa carta, Clementine quería ocultarlo de mí.
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