Read Almost Never: A Novel for Free Online Page A

arose a musical dynamic that consisted of holding waists and taking steps. Eighteen couples—giving it their all! The movements were quite corny, waltzing, which would have looked even cornier if viewed from the top of any tree: a changing—and pretentious?—flower, or something of the sort, whatever occurs to you. Couple number nineteen was missing. Let’s watch Demetrio ask the aforementioned woman to dance. The parents looked him up and down, from head to toe. His wrinkled suit at night—consider the advantage of the dim lighting—wouldn’t matter even when they did notice, perhaps later. Anyway. Couple number nineteen’s steps were discreet: he was quite tall (almost six feet) and she rather short (what would you call five foot two?). Be that as it may, they never took their eyes off each other; moreover, and because of their somewhat awkward steps, they were continually bumping into other couples. Sorry here, sorry there, and sorry yonder. Their dancing deteriorated as they sidled over to the edge of the dance floor, which didn’t matter because first and foremost they had to introduce themselves: he took the initiative: his name, where he was from, his profession, his reason for being in Sacramento, and the unrivaled privilege of being face-to-face with a ranchera goddess … No, how could he use such an inaccurate adjective; he must remain cool …
    And on they went. They danced four rounds.
    Vigilant parents. No problems observed. His enormous bony hands made no mischief.
    Before leading her back to her seat, he asked for her address so that he could write to her, from Oaxaca! The answer was a cinch: General Delivery, Sacramento, Coahuila. He carried no pen, so consigned it, effortlessly, to memory. Then came her name: Renata Melgarejo. Difficult. What a hodgepodge of a family name! Her given name: a bit odd, though sonorous. True, Mireya’s was more vivacious, but it was a whore’s name, whereas this one—how could he think of her? Decent: a bit; indecent: no, not that! Re-na-ta as opposed to Mi-re-ya. Purity tending toward impurity … Better not to think such filthy thoughts. Better to think about the sanctity therein, in her sweeter than sweet demeanor and her body, oh, like a wildflower …
    “I will write you twice a month. You are enchanting.” He used the familiar “ tú ” form of address.
    “We just met and already so familiar?”
    “I’m sorry—oh boy! It’s just that I’m from the city … Please, forgive me.”
    “When you return, if you return, I’ll allow it.”
    A fleeting association: Mireya never made a fuss about that, in fact, she never made any fuss at all.
    “Of course I’ll come back. I promise you. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met in my life and, I presume, the kindest. It would be a great honor for me to see you again soon.”
    “You have a way with words. I like what you’ve said, and I must confess, I’d like to hear more.”
    In the face of such fair rusticity, the agronomist could not possibly use the base language that he used with Mireya, perhaps eventually, but who knows when.
    “I will always speak tenderly to you. With words as soft and beautiful as you are.”
    “And I will always be grateful.”
    A chivalrous adieu. Obsequious smiles for the parents as he accompanied Renata to her seat. When he turned his back upon all of that—quite decently done, of course—Demetrio took long jaunty strides across the basketball court. His mother and aunt greeted him with smiles. They: eager. He: excited. It was still not time, however, to speak about how things had gone with the girl. Instead, what was worth noticing after the agronomist’s abrupt about-face was that Renata and her parents were leaving: we still have to find out why: perhaps these gentlefolk had decided that their daughter should not dance with another: this also to the outlander’s advantage, who thought in a flash: I’ve got my foot in the door. I’m like a Prince Charming