Читать книгу The President’s Room - Ricardo Romero - Страница 17

Before my brother started getting bouts of fever, it was my grandfather who used to suffer from them. The difference is that my grandfather would get angry. He would never let anybody near him. He would shout. He would talk to himself, cursing and swearing. My little brother, on the other hand, stays quiet most of the time. He spends days like that, until the fever leaves as suddenly as it came. My little brother never knew our grandfather, but when I see him like that, wrapped up in his blankets, glassy eyes staring fixedly at a point on the ceiling, I think what he’s doing is listening to our grandfather. He’s listening to him shouting and talking to himself, he’s hearing him swearing and cursing. One of them is alive and the other is dead, but they both have a fever.