that he practically never left his refuge, except to take his daily photo of the tree. And then came the final insult. On the same day as it was announced that the winner of the election was one of the two usual faces—Candelario would go down in history as the only candidate not even to win in his own building—a handwritten circular, without any official signature, was slipped under his front door. It stated that the tree in the green area behind Building 23 was a threat to the safety of the residents and so would be immediately felled. One member of the condominium was required to supervise the team of technicians who would carry out the task. The board was notifying Severo Candelario that he had been assigned this responsibility. He was to present himself in the green area at 7:19 the following morning to undertake this task.
Candelario turned up a few of minutes early to take his farewell photo. Taimado’s Black Paunches, dressed up as tree surgeons for the occasion, were ruthlessly punctual. Their electric saws were indistinguishable from their twisted grins. The schoolmaster signed the order unleashing the carnage and they inexpertly began lop the defenseless tree, brutally attacking even the fallen branches, brandishing their saws like obese ninjas finishing off the enemy. The trunk was attacked from several angles. It was hours before they managed to penetrate it, but when the tree was unable to hold out any longer, irregularly shaped chunks began to tumble down. As darkness fell—Candelario had not even moved when the Black Paunches had interrupted their work to eat their usual leftovers—they called it a day, leaving just a few inches of the base, scarred by the teeth of the saws. Candelario didn’t notice when the last of the saws was switched off; he could still hear the roar in his head when Clara finally came to take his hand and lead him back to their apartment.
The schoolmaster continued his usual routine. Every morning at 7:19, he would go out to take a photo of the mutilated trunk that would never again grow. He continued to fill albums, continued to flick the pages for visitors. It was now an ode to the decomposition of matter. After his retirement, he would spend hours sitting on his bench, mentally visualizing every detail of his tree. He was never alone; the two tattered rag dolls, by this time without eyes or hair, accompanied him. Severo Candelario became a melancholy statue symbolizing a remote era, almost totally erased from Villa Miserias’ collective memory.
12
And what if they heap shit on me too?
Yeah, you bastard. But would it be any worse than this?
Stop talking, you jerk. Just go put your name down. Get it over and fucking done with.
Shit! There she is talking to Perdumes. That great asshole’s dazzling her with his smile.
Sure it was really them?
Positive. I’d better get a move on and stop imagining all this trash.
Imagining trash? If you say so. We’re always here, ready for any eventuality.
13
It was also a breach for Perdumes, a signal that the time had come to close the polygon, so that all its points led to the same place. The bulldozers arrived and with them the dust. The dust that, from then onward, would so thickly coat the existence of Villa Miserias that the inhabitants only noticed it when it wasn’t there. Outside the estate, they found breathing a strange experience, as if something were missing, until they returned to the customary dose of irritation the air administered to their lungs.
His plan to limit the horizon began with territorial expansion: Perdumes acquired an enormous vacant lot adjoining the estate. The founders of Villa Miserias had, in their day, met with a complex ownership regime that had made any form of financial transaction impossible. But Perdumes knew who to talk to and how much to offer. A solemn ceremony was organized to inaugurate the works, during which Perdumes’ alabaster smile hit the intervening wall without shaking it, signifying the beginning of the future. After the demolition of the wall, the present-day limits of Villa Miserias were traced out. With the machinery came the hands needed for the construction of the future. The plot was to be fitted out as a commercial zone with office space. The Villa Miserians would soon be able to realize their most hidden fantasies. Up to that moment, the reach of Quietism in Motion had been limited by the rigidity of its structure, which made it hard to separate the residents by value. From that moment a reverse order process began: Perdumes had traced out the course on which the tide of those with the possibility of grasping a lifejacket would travel.
The already successful financial engineering scheme was set in motion again. In theory, every inhabitant of Villa Miserias had the chance to own his own business: in reality only a few would. The bottleneck was formed by the residents themselves, draped in the material of their specific capabilities and ambitions. Those interested had to put an ear to the chest of the community to learn to hear the pulse of its desires. However, it was good news for everyone: those of limited vision could be employed as assistants, checkout operators, waiters, guards, janitors, and so on. The outside world was no longer beyond the confines of Villa Miserias.
The outer shell was quickly constructed. A concrete monstrosity, hygienic and functional. The interior spaces were also soon occupied by a range of outlets catering for everything from the most essential needs to those no one had ever suspected to exist.
One of the more successful cases catered to the youngest residents. It offered items for the amusement of children, including rattles, soft toys, and construction kits, but also strollers. Each of its articles was adorned with a glowing screen; interspersed between the cartoons and children’s movies shown there were commercials made by the store itself. This promoted family harmony since the children could spend hours sitting in front of the screen, their parents frequently watching with them. The children demanded the movie of their favorite bear, which they watched on the belly of a toy bear, along with the commercials in which the bear expressed itself happy to be their friend. Villa Miserias’ children would grow up in the shelter of the magical worlds contained in their toys. Their parents gladly forked out the cash in exchange for the free time it bought them.
In addition to the stores, not-for-profit organizations also sprung up. A group of refined ladies launched a cultural center called Leonardo RU, inspired by a new vision: they were tired of the arts being monopolized by a pedantic elite. Their project offered the ordinary person the possibility of buzzing with artistic creativity. A band of experts gave courses in literature, painting, music, and much more, in which they imparted the general principles of a work without the need to read it, see it or listen to it: there was absolutely no reason to expose the members of the center to complex issues. They even offered an express telephone service, something of first importance for social events. With just a single phone call, an overview of the book, movie, or exhibition of the moment could be obtained, including a critique of the weak points of the plot, plus arguments for supporting the notion that it was, in fact, a metaphor for the feeble human condition. There were members who complained because some other dinner guest had come out with the same idea before they could express it, so the experts began to prepare a variety of opinions, in the interests of fomenting plurality and debate.
In relation to creativity, they transferred to the field of the arts the age-old maxim that learning is, in fact, a process of remembering what you already know: the ladies believed that artistic talent was present in everyone, but the snobbism of the elites meant only very few had the right to enjoy it. Numerous artists in the making, assisted by the facilitators, created works of great technical skill.
In painting, the student would give a rough outline of the work. So as not to interfere in the creative process, the facilitator didn’t even listen to this. The student would then stand confidently before the canvas, the tutor took his arm and together they would begin to paint. Students were instructed to allow themselves to be carried away by creative ecstasy and to close their eyes during the process. The final product left them feeling so proud that it didn’t matter if it was somewhat different to what they had originally conceived.
