The Transmigration of Bodies by Yuri Herrera Page B
Authors: Yuri Herrera
Tags: Drama, spanish, Fiction, Mexico, Hard-Boiled, translation, Love Story, Urban, Novel, Dystopia, gangs, Plague, hispanic, disease, Romeo, blonde, Translated fiction, Yuri Herrera, Trabajos del Reino, Señales que precederán al fin del mundo, Signs Preceding the End of the World, La transmigración de los cuerpos, The Transmigration of Bodies, Latino, Vicky, Three Times Blond, Neyanderthal, the Dolphin, Anemic Student, valeria luiselli, mexico city, The Redeemer, daniel alarcón, mediation, narco-literature, gang violence, la Nora, francisco goldman, herrera, redeemer, the Unruly, the Castros, narcoliteratura, maya jaggi, Ganglands, dead bodies, Transmigration of the Bodies
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they’re telling the truth.
Not entirely, said Vicky. I buy the story about the truck but that doesn’t explain his hands.
Oh, the Mennonite said. That was me.
The other two stared.
He looked a little too tidy to have died in a brawl.
He didn’t die in a brawl.
But his father isn’t going to believe that, is he? Why make matters worse by saying they didn’t lay a hand on him? Those two families got bad blood between them. So let them believe what they want to believe, let them bury their boy like a hero. They’re not going to simmer down when someone tells them to, they’ll do it when they’re worn out. So tell them what happened, but let him look like he had a fight first.
Vicky looked as if she was about to say something but thought better of it. And then she said: Why wouldn’t he want to be taken to hospital?
Now that part I can’t explain, the Mennonite replied.
They walked out and Romeo remained alone once more. They went upstairs to the Castros and before they left the mother appeared, frightened and pale, and demanded Now tell me what they did to my little girl.
The Redeemer decided the Mennonite’s strategy wouldn’t wash with her and said: More or less the same as what happened here. A tragedy with no one to blame.
What are you saying? That she’s dead? That each of us ended up with the other’s body by accident? Is that what you’re telling me?
Something like that, yes.
The mother stared straight at him and said Those things just don’t happen.
Some sad fuck so much as takes a bite of bread and we got to find a name for it, he thought. Or an alias anyway. That’s about as close to the mark as we get.
Banished man alias Mennonite. Broken man alias Redeemer. Lonely old soul alias Light of my life. Ravaged woman alias Wonder where she’s gone. Get revenge alias Get even. Truly fucked alias Not to worry. Contempt alias Nobody remembers him. Scared shitless alias Didn’t see a thing. Scared shitless alias Doing just fine. Some sad fuck alias Chip off the old block. Just what I was hoping for alias You won’t get away with this. Housebroken words alias Nothing but truth.
I got to buy condoms, the Redeemer remembered aloud.
Vicky eyed him mockingly.
What, your hands are too calloused?
No. From time to time there occurs a miracle.
Vicky gaped as if to say You got to be kidding—you, talking miracles? But Vicky didn’t get it. Vicky was beautiful and a hardass and used to striding across a room and grabbing any man she wanted by the balls and dragging him into her bed without losing her head or getting quixotic. She’d never had to work to find someone to fuck, and he pitied her that a bit, just as he pitied those who don’t know what it feels like to see a big city for the first time because they grew up in it, or the guy who can’t recall what it is to feel handsome for the first time, or to kiss someone who seemed impossible to kiss for the first time. Vicky knows nothing of miracles.
Yeah, sometimes the ladies let their guard down, right? the Neeyanderthal said.
Oh god, said Vicky.
Here we go, she’s going to tell me off.
No, I’m not, it’s just that you don’t get it. At all. See, men will fuck a chair, even if it’s missing a leg, but when women fuck an ugly man or a jerk it’s not because we’ll fuck any old thing, it’s cos that’s the way things start and we know there’s more to it. Men don’t come to see that till years later, once they’ve stopped mounting anything that crosses their path.
Thanks, sweetheart, I knew one of these days you’d come to appreciate us.
This only applies to men with a soul, Neeyan.
So maybe Vicky simply understood different things. Either way, the Redeemer braked and left the two of them there in their silence when he caught sight of a pharmacy. He got out of the car but immediately saw it was closed, and the metal shutters had been beaten repeatedly with a pipe or a club or a desperate fist, and beside the shutter hung a
Not entirely, said Vicky. I buy the story about the truck but that doesn’t explain his hands.
Oh, the Mennonite said. That was me.
The other two stared.
He looked a little too tidy to have died in a brawl.
He didn’t die in a brawl.
But his father isn’t going to believe that, is he? Why make matters worse by saying they didn’t lay a hand on him? Those two families got bad blood between them. So let them believe what they want to believe, let them bury their boy like a hero. They’re not going to simmer down when someone tells them to, they’ll do it when they’re worn out. So tell them what happened, but let him look like he had a fight first.
Vicky looked as if she was about to say something but thought better of it. And then she said: Why wouldn’t he want to be taken to hospital?
Now that part I can’t explain, the Mennonite replied.
They walked out and Romeo remained alone once more. They went upstairs to the Castros and before they left the mother appeared, frightened and pale, and demanded Now tell me what they did to my little girl.
The Redeemer decided the Mennonite’s strategy wouldn’t wash with her and said: More or less the same as what happened here. A tragedy with no one to blame.
What are you saying? That she’s dead? That each of us ended up with the other’s body by accident? Is that what you’re telling me?
Something like that, yes.
The mother stared straight at him and said Those things just don’t happen.
Some sad fuck so much as takes a bite of bread and we got to find a name for it, he thought. Or an alias anyway. That’s about as close to the mark as we get.
Banished man alias Mennonite. Broken man alias Redeemer. Lonely old soul alias Light of my life. Ravaged woman alias Wonder where she’s gone. Get revenge alias Get even. Truly fucked alias Not to worry. Contempt alias Nobody remembers him. Scared shitless alias Didn’t see a thing. Scared shitless alias Doing just fine. Some sad fuck alias Chip off the old block. Just what I was hoping for alias You won’t get away with this. Housebroken words alias Nothing but truth.
I got to buy condoms, the Redeemer remembered aloud.
Vicky eyed him mockingly.
What, your hands are too calloused?
No. From time to time there occurs a miracle.
Vicky gaped as if to say You got to be kidding—you, talking miracles? But Vicky didn’t get it. Vicky was beautiful and a hardass and used to striding across a room and grabbing any man she wanted by the balls and dragging him into her bed without losing her head or getting quixotic. She’d never had to work to find someone to fuck, and he pitied her that a bit, just as he pitied those who don’t know what it feels like to see a big city for the first time because they grew up in it, or the guy who can’t recall what it is to feel handsome for the first time, or to kiss someone who seemed impossible to kiss for the first time. Vicky knows nothing of miracles.
Yeah, sometimes the ladies let their guard down, right? the Neeyanderthal said.
Oh god, said Vicky.
Here we go, she’s going to tell me off.
No, I’m not, it’s just that you don’t get it. At all. See, men will fuck a chair, even if it’s missing a leg, but when women fuck an ugly man or a jerk it’s not because we’ll fuck any old thing, it’s cos that’s the way things start and we know there’s more to it. Men don’t come to see that till years later, once they’ve stopped mounting anything that crosses their path.
Thanks, sweetheart, I knew one of these days you’d come to appreciate us.
This only applies to men with a soul, Neeyan.
So maybe Vicky simply understood different things. Either way, the Redeemer braked and left the two of them there in their silence when he caught sight of a pharmacy. He got out of the car but immediately saw it was closed, and the metal shutters had been beaten repeatedly with a pipe or a club or a desperate fist, and beside the shutter hung a
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