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En la estación

Claudio no pudo dormir por la ansiedad de probar su idea. Desde las seis de la mañana se paró frente a la biblioteca, esperando que abrieran.

Veinte años tenía leyendo aquel libro y haciendo las modificaciones que podía. Albergaba la certeza de que el cambio que requería para lograr su felicidad, era simple. Diariamente recorría sus hojas, vivía cada momento hasta la saciedad, pero siempre tenía el mismo final. Estaba seguro de que sí existía posibilidad de quedarse y disfrutar de aquella vida permanentemente, sin tener que volver a su paupérrima vivienda, a sus ropas cada vez más roídas. Pero hoy sentía que tenía la respuesta.

Recordaba cada cambio realizado y sus vivencias: el día que con un acento logró cambiar del presente al pasado, la frase del guardia de la abadía que le impedía entrar al recinto y conocer a la hermosa Irene; la eliminación de la coma que echó por tierra la orden de ejecución del hermano de la mujer amada, el único que podía interceder por un acercamiento entre ellos. Tantas alteraciones que dieron vida y variedad a unas aventuras, que en cuatro lustros se hubieran tornado reiterativas.

Recordó su decepción al descubrir que no podía agregar puntos, pues la ausencia de mayúsculas en la palabra siguiente, anulaba la modificación. Inútilmente recorrió las 742 páginas del libro, buscando una frase que intercalara un sustantivo propio al que pudiera anteponer un punto.

Abierta la biblioteca, Claudio corrió al pasillo que guardaba su véritable vie, que le permitía ser "él" y no el despojo en que lo convirtió la sociedad. Cogió el pesado tomo, se sentó a la mesa de costumbre y antes de abrirlo ya rondaban su mente las palabras escritas.

" -Guten morgen, Herr Manzog! ¿Lo de costumbre para comer?"

Claudio aprovechó nuevamente el desayuno que le ofrecían desde hace veinte años y se apresuró a avanzar al nudo central de la trama, donde Irene lo rechazaba y que invariablemente lo devolvía a la vida gris en su suburbio.

Empapado por la lluvia, Claudio llegó a la estación de Gare du Nord. Antes de que Irene subiera al tren, confesó una vez más su amor y que sin ella moriría. Como en las últimas dos décadas, ella lo miro impasible y dijo: -¡No quiero estar contigo!

Claudio sentía que el corazón reventaría cuando -antes de que ella subiera al tren y se marchara, dejándolo fuera de la historia- detuvo la lectura, volvió unas líneas atrás, tomó la pluma y trazó con firmeza la coma. Retomó la lectura en el punto que él presagiaba su muerte si ella no estaba y para su felicidad pudo comprobar que funcionaba...

Irene lo miró con ternura y con voz dulce exclamó. -¡No, quiero estar contigo!

Lentamente el ferrocarril abandonó el andén, mientras Claudio, pletórico de dicha, esperaba el nuevo rumbo que seguiría la novela, con la certeza de que nunca volvería a salir de la historia.

At the station

Claudio could not sleep because of the anxiety to test his idea. From six o'clock in the morning he stood in front of the library, waiting for it to open.

He had been reading that book for twenty years and making the modifications he could. He was certain that the change he needed to achieve his happiness was simple. Daily he went through its pages, lived each moment to satiety, but always had the same ending. He was sure that there was a possibility to stay and enjoy that life permanently, without having to return to his poor dwelling, to his increasingly worn clothes. But today he felt he had the answer.

He remembered every change he made and his experiences: the day that with an accent he managed to change from the present to the past, the sentence of the abbey guard that prevented him from entering the enclosure and meeting the beautiful Irene; the elimination of the comma that overturned the execution order of the brother of the beloved woman, the only one who could intercede for a rapprochement between them. So many alterations that gave life and variety to adventures that in four lustrums would have become repetitive.

He remembered his disappointment when he discovered that he could not add periods, since the absence of capital letters in the following word nullified the modification. In vain he scrolled through the 742 pages of the book, looking for a sentence that included a proper noun that could be preceded by a period.

Opening the library, Claudio ran to the corridor that held his véritable vie, which allowed him to be "him" and not the wreck that society had turned him into. He picked up the heavy tome, sat down at the usual table and before he opened it the written words were already hovering in his mind.

" -Guten morgen, Herr Manzog! The usual for eating?"

Claudio again took advantage of the breakfast that had been offered to him for twenty years and hurried forward to the central knot of the plot, where Irene rejected him and which invariably returned him to the gray life in his suburb.

Drenched by the rain, Claudio arrived at the Gare du Nord station. Before Irene boarded the train, he confessed once again his love and that without her he would die. As in the last two decades, she looked at him impassively and said: - ¡no quiero estar contigo! (I don't want to be with you!)

Claudio felt his heart would burst when -before she got on the train and left, leaving him out of the story- he stopped reading, went back a few lines, took the pen and firmly traced the comma. He resumed reading at the point where he foreshadowed his death if she was gone and to his happiness he could see that it worked....

Irene looked at him tenderly and in a sweet voice exclaimed. -¡No, quiero estar contigo! (No, I want to be with you!)

Slowly the railroad left the platform, while Claudio, full of joy, waited for the new course that the novel would follow, with the certainty that he would never leave the story again.

Fuente de la imagen principal || Main image's source

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