The Golden Apples of the Sun
"Now," whispered one of the men quietly. "Mr. Villanazul is at the top of the house!"
Everybody quieted.
"Now," hissed the man in a stage whisper. "Mr. Villanazul taps at her door! Tap, tap."
Everyone listened, holding his breath.
Far away there was a gentle tapping sound.
"Now, Mrs. Navarrez, at this intrusion, breaks out anew with crying!"
At the top of the house came a scream.
"Now," the man imagined, crouched, his hand delicately weaving on the air, "Mr. Villanazul pleads and pleads, softly, quietly, to the locked door."
The people on the porch lifted their chins tentatively, trying to see through three flights of wood and plaster to the third floor, waiting.
The screaming faded.
"Now, Mr. Villanazul talks quickly, he pleads, he whispers, he promises," cried the man softly.
The screaming settled to a sobbing, the sobbing to a moan, and finally all died away into breathing and the pounding of hearts and listening.
After about two minutes of standing, sweating, waiting, everyone on the porch heard the door far away upstairs rattle its lock, open, and, a second later, with a whisper, close.
The house was silent.
Silence lived in every room like a light turned off. Silence flowed like a cool wine in the tunnel halls. Silence came through the open casements like a cool breath from the cellar. They all stood breathing the coolness of it.
"Ah," they sighed.
Men flicked away cigarettes and moved on tiptoe into the silent tenement. Women followed. Soon the porch was empty. They drifted in cool halls of quietness.
Mrs. Villanazul, in a drugged stupor, unlocked her door.
"We must give Mr. Villanazul a banquet," a voice whispered.
"Light a candle for him tomorrow."
The doors shut.
In her fresh bed Mrs. Villanazul lay. He is a thoughtful man, she dreamed, eyes closed. For such things, I love him.
The silence was like a cool hand, stroking her to sleep.
17
SUN AND SHADOW
Copyright, 1953, by The Fortnightly Publishing Company, Inc.
The camera clicked like an insect. It was blue and metallic, like a great fat beetle held in the man's precious and tenderly exploiting hands. It winked in the flashing sunlight.
"Hsst, Ricardo, come away!"
"You down there!" cried Ricardo out the window.
"Ricardo, stop!"