Chapter 1
“You are a mistery, my dear,” her
mother said, and Grady, across the table through a centerpiece of
roses and fern, smiled indulgently: yes , I am a mistery, and it
please her to think so. But Apple, eight years older, married, far
from mysterious, said :”Grady is only foolish; I wish I were going
with you. Imagine, Mama, this time next week you´ll be having
breaksfast in Paris! George keeps promising that we´ll go . . . I
don´t know, though .” She paused and looked at her sister .
“Grady, why on earth do you want to stay in New York in dead of
summer?” Grady wished they would leave her alone; still this
harping, and here now was the very morning the boat sailed: what was
there to say beyond what she´d said? After that there wass only the
truth, and the truth she did not entirely intend to tell. “I´ve
never spent a summer here, “ she said, escaping their eyes and
looking out the window: the dazzle of traffic heightened the June
morning quiet of Central Park, and the sun, full of first summer,
that dries the green crust of spring, plunged through the trees
fronting the Plaza, where they were breakfasting. “ I¨m perverse;
have it your own way.” She realized with a smile it was perhaps a
mistake to have said that: her family did come rather near thinking
her perverse; and once when she was fourteen she´d had a terrible
and quite acute insight: her mother, she saw, loved her without
really liking her; she had thought at first that this was because her
mother considered her plainer, more obstinate, less playful than
Apple, but later, when it was apparent, and painfully so to Apple,
that Grady was finer looking by far, then she gave up reasoning about
her mother´s viewpoint: the answer of course, and at last she saw
this too, was simply tha in a inactive sort of way, she´d never, not
even as a very small girl, much liked her mother. Yet there was
little flamboyancy in either attitude; indeed, the house of their
hostility was modestly furnished with affection, which Mrs. McNeil
now expressed by closing her daughter´s hand in her own and saying:
“We will worry about you, darling. We can´t help that. I don´t
know. I don´t know. I´m not sure it´s safe. Seventeen isn´t very
old, and you´ve never been really alone before.
Summer Crossing
Truman Capote
publicado en 2005 en Estados Unidos por Random House
traducido ao galego por Carlos Acevedo, Eva Almazán
e publicado como
Cruceiro de Verán
Vigo, Editorial Galaxia, 2006
Capítulo 1.
“Ti es un misterio, querida” dixo a
nai, e Grady, mirando desde outro lado da mesa a través dun centro
de rosas e fento, sorriu con indulxencia: son un misterio, si e
compraceuse na idea. Mais Apple, oito anos máis vella, casada e en
absoluto misteriosa, dixo : “ O que ten é que é parva. Xa me
gustaría a min ir convosco. Ti imaxina, mamá, a esta mesma hora, de
aquí a unha semana, estaredes a almorzar en París! George segue a
prometerme que tamén habemos de ir nosoutro... pero non sei” fixo
unha pausa e mirou para a irmá”. Grady, por que queres quedar en
Nova York en pleno verán, se se pode saber? Grady pensou que oxalá
o deixasen en paz ; seguían coa mesma teima, ata a mesmiña mañá
en que o barco partía. Que máis había que dicir alén do que xa
dixera? Á parte daquilo só quedaba a verdade, e a verdade non tiña
intención de contala de todo. “ Porque nunca pasei un verán aquí”
díxome apartando a vista e mirando pola fiestra; o resplandor do
tránsito realzaba a quietude daquela mañá de xuño en Central
Park, e o sol, na plenitude do comezo do verán, mentres secaba a
tona verde da primaviero, é dicir entre as árbores de fronte ao
Plaza, onde foron almorzo. "Eu son perverso, ter o seu propio
camiño." Ela entendeu cun sorriso talvez fose un erro dicir
que: a súa familia veu moi preto pensar a súa perseverancia, e unha
vez máis, cando tiña catorce anos tivo unha terrible, e visión moi
aguda: a súa nai, viu, amaba sen realmente gusto dela, ela pensara
nun principio que era porque a súa nai o consideraba máis claro,
máis obstinado, menos brincallón que a Apple, pero máis tarde,
cando xa era evidente, e dolorosamente para Apple, que Grady foi máis
fina mirando de lonxe, entón ela desistiu de razoamento sobre o
punto de vista da súa nai: a resposta é clara, e, finalmente, ela
viu iso tamén, era simplemente unah especie de forma inactiva, ela d
nunca, nin sequera como unha pequena rapaza, gustoume moito da nai.
Con todo, houbo pouca extravagancia en calquera actitude, en
realidade, a casa da súa hostilidade foi modestamente mobiliado con
cariño, o que a señora McNeil agora expresa, pechando a man da súa
filla no seu propio e dicindo: "Imos preocuparse ti, querida.
Non podemos evitar isto. Non o sei. Non o sei. Non estou seguro de
que é seguro. Dezasete non é moi antiga, e nunca estivo realmente
só antes.
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