This week’s Translation Tuesday comes from the amazing Mexican author Ana García Bergua, whose story The Hindu Storm examines old age from a perspective that balances both humour and dignity. For more microfiction, head over to the brand new Winter 2018 issue of Asymptote!
One afternoon during an electric storm, Adán Gomez comes home with a copy of the book, “Twenty Daring Positions for Lovemaking.” He suggests to his wife, Rebeca that they try a few out. Oh Adán, for heaven’s sake, his wife says, but he persists. After all, he says, at their age, (they’re both pushing eighty), that’s about all there is left to do. After their afternoon snack, they start off with the position called, “Frogs in the Pond.” It goes pretty smooth, considering how long it’s been since they’ve done anything like that. Adán is a stamp collector and a very meticulous man. He didn’t buy the classic Kama Sutra because it seemed too confusing, unlike this book, where all the postures come numbered in order of difficulty.
Although they’re both a bit underwhelmed, Adán insists they give number two a try. This one’s called, “The Snail,” which has the advantage of being a position best practiced slowly. He takes some Viagra. Everything’s going well, but then Rebeca suddenly dislocates her elbow and is forced to wear a sling. The neighbors ask what happened, Oh I was just cooking and hurt myself, she responds with a sly smile.
Two weeks later, while trying out the more advanced, “The Deer and the Buck,” Adán throws out his knee. I told you we should’ve been using the cushions! Rebeca scolds. So on goes another brace, on top of the limp and the cane he had to dig out of the closet, but worst of all are the neighbors. Don Adán, what did you do to yourself? Ah I slipped getting out of the tub. Then he has to deal with the long lectures about rubber mats and handrails and special chairs. It’s not like he’s dying to keep a secret, but he’s not about to share such intimate details with the neighbors.
In order to perform the “Open-mouthed Crab,” Adán and Rebeca buy some knee and shoulder pads, just in case. Their precaution yields success, and they’re both very satisfied. They continue unharmed by the “The Lobster” and “The Elephant,” which turn out to be quite difficult, but when it comes time for “The Dragon,” which is most efficiently performed in the living room, they let their guard down. That’s when tragedy strikes: Rebeca pulls a muscle in her neck and Adán sprains an ankle. On the way to the hospital, Adán says to her, as soon as we’re done with this let’s try out “The Pouncing Lion,” and Rebeca responds without turning her neck to look at him, Oh Adán, for heaven’s sake.
When they get home, the neighbors suggest that they should hire a nurse in addition to their same old lecturing about handrails, and nonslip mats and maybe even some diapers so they don’t have to risk running to the bathroom. One of them, the bitter guy from apartment 104, calls their children to snitch about all the injured elbows, wrists and ankles. Adán and Rebeca’s children normally stop by once a month, but they all hurry over to bicker amongst themselves about who’ll take care of their parents and where they’ll end up. How’d you do that to your ankle, dad? Oh, just going down the stairs. But then Rebeca says he slipped in the kitchen. The pulled muscle in her neck also seems to have contradictory explanations, which on top of everything else, makes their children think that they’re also experiencing lapses in memory. Adán and Rebeca wait impatiently for their children to leave so they can get back to the “The Amorous Swan.” They respond with a short yes to everything and hurry them out of the house, but the children decide to hold a quick conclave in a nearby café and it’s decided that one of them should stay to take care of them until they find a professional nurse. When the elected son goes back he nearly catches them in the act, and Adán makes it to the door just in time. There he finds the youngest and least responsible of their children. They insist there’s no need to stay, but the son has come with a special mandate from his siblings. Adán says to him, go get some beers so we can celebrate you staying here with us. The son goes out for beer and, because of his characteristic imprudence, is gone for a long time. Rebeca and Adán wonder what they’ll do now. Adán comments that if they hire a nurse, maybe she can help out with “The Pyramid.” Too far, Adán, too far, she says.
That night they decide to sneak out to a nearby park. No one’s going to bother a pair of old folks going at it in the bushes, and there, all alone, they’ll perform the last of the positions. Then they’ll go straight home. Their deal is sealed with a shaky kiss. They bring along a few pads to lie down on and when they find just the right spot they skillfully perform “The Hindu Storm” with only a few minor scratches. It’s then that several police officers who believe there’s been a mugging show up to save them. They scold them, saying, you shouldn’t go wandering around at night, Pops. Their children are notified and it’s decided that the both of them should be put in a home. Adán becomes very depressed, but Rebeca doesn’t think it’s so bad. Hey, if they put us in the same room then we can get back to “The Aztec Temple” or “The Comet,” she consoles him while they watch TV with their oldest granddaughter, who’s been put in charge of keeping an eye on them. The son who went out for beer never did come back.
Translated from the Spanish by Allana Noyes
Ana García Bergua (1960) is the author of more than ten published novels and short story collections. In 2009, her work in translation was featured in Best Contemporary Mexican Fiction (Dalkey). Her novel, La Bomba de San José, won the National Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz prize in 2013. In 2017, her collection of short stories, La Tormenta Hindú, won the National Colima Award sponsored by the Instituto de Bellas Artes. She currently resides in her native Mexico City.
Allana Noyes is a literary translator and writer from Reno, Nevada. In 2015 she received a Fulbright grant to Mexico. Her translations have been published by Lunch Ticket, Mexico City Lit, and Solis Press. She is currently an MFA candidate in Literary Translation at The University of Iowa.
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