The Wind From the East by Almudena Grandes Page A

had on fishing, on plants, on people’s moods.The locals seemed to plan their entire lives around the east wind, the west wind, the south wind, the hot, cold, damp, or dry wind, making it advisable, or not, to do the washing, go out or stay in, open the windows or shut them to keep out the sand which got into food, ruined kitchen appliances, collected in the gaps between tiles and could never be entirely eliminated, however much one swept. Andrés smiled, as if he couldn’t understand how such a simple thing managed to cause confusion in the mind of such a clever and grown-up woman. He explained it all to her patiently and clearly, savoring the rare feeling of being important.
     
    “Imagine you’re on the beach.”And he stretched out his arms, as if he were holding Sara by the waist at the water’s edge. “Right? If it’s blowing from the left, it’s the east wind, if it’s blowing from the right, it’s the west wind, if it’s blowing in your face, it’s the south wind.”
     
    “And what if I’m not on the beach?”
     
    “It’s still easy.When the east wind’s blowing it’s hot, really hot in summer, and it’s very dry, you can feel it in your mouth and your throat. It knocks all the flies out, but it brings in lots of weird insects, caterpillars, bumblebees, but mainly “diablillos,” which are like big mosquitoes with two long thin wings on either side.They look horrible but they don’t bite. If I see one, I’ll show it to you.That way, when you see one, you’ll know the east wind’s coming.The west wind is cool, but it can be quite sticky. You can feel it on your clothes, because you sweat more.”
     
    “So it’s damp,” she dared conclude for him, wondering how long it would take for her to get lost this time.
     
    “If it’s towards the south, yes. If not, it depends. But it always makes you leave the beach in the afternoons, because it suddenly gets cold. Of course, the south wind’s worse, even colder, and you can feel it on your sheets at night—suddenly they’re freezing.”
     
    “Right.” Sara hesitated, faced with the first difficulty. “And how can you tell if it’s the south wind blowing or the east?”
     
    “Well . . .” Andrés stopped, as if she were being stupid. “Because you can just tell. Because it blows from a different direction.And the west wind is drier, but not as dry as the east wind.”
     
    “The worst one.”
     
    “In summer, yes. Especially when it’s calm, I mean, when you know it’s going to start blowing, but it hasn’t started yet, and sometimes it goes away without blowing at all, like last week, do you remember?” Sara shook her head, but this didn’t discourage him. “Well, it doesn’t matter. The thing is, it’s really horrible, because it gets really hot, like a furnace, so you get all sweaty and it just pours off you. Bleuh! You can’t go out, or play soccer, or anything.You open the front door and it’s like you’ve been smacked in the face, and you just want to go and lie down in the dark and not do anything. But in winter, the east wind’s good because it clears the air and dries the washing hanging out on the line, and it’s nice getting dressed for school in the morning without having to dry the edges of your jumper with the hairdryer.”
     
    “And when it’s calm?”
     
    “In winter?” For a moment, it was the boy’s turn to be confused.“No, in winter, you never notice it. It’s never calm. It’s like the west wind, it can blow or not blow, but there’s never any warning that it’s going to start, not in winter or in summer.With the south wind, it’s the same. Of course, in winter, the south wind’s worse than the west wind, because it’s a lot colder, but in spring, the west wind . . .”
     
    At this stage Sara surrendered, holding up her hand as if she were waving a white flag.
     
    “Don’t worry, Andrés, it doesn’t matter. However much you explain, I’ll never