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On
a
certain
occasion
Aureliano
was
there
working
on
his
silver
,
and
Pilar
Ternera
leaned
over
the
table
to
admire
his
laborious
patience
.
Suddenly
it
happened
.
Aureliano
made
sure
that
Arcadio
was
in
the
darkroom
before
raising
his
eyes
and
meeting
those
Pilar
Ternera
,
whose
thought
was
perfectly
visible
,
as
if
exposed
to
the
light
of
noon
.
"
Well
,
"
Aureliano
said
.
"
Tell
me
what
it
is
.
"
Pilar
Ternera
bit
her
lips
with
a
sad
smile
.
"
That
you
'd
be
good
in
a
war
,
"
she
said
.
"
Where
you
put
your
eye
,
you
put
your
bullet
.
"
Aureliano
relaxed
with
the
proof
of
the
omen
.
He
went
back
to
concentrate
on
his
work
as
if
nothing
had
happened
,
and
his
voice
took
on
a
restful
strength
.
"
I
will
recognize
him
,
"
he
said
.
"
He
'll
bear
my
name
.
"
José
Arcadio
Buendía
finally
got
what
he
was
looking
for
:
he
connected
the
mechanism
of
the
clock
to
a
mechanical
ballerina
,
and
the
toy
danced
uninterruptedly
to
the
rhythm
of
her
own
music
for
three
days
.
That
discovery
excited
him
much
more
than
any
of
his
other
harebrained
undertakings
.
He
stopped
eating
.
He
stopped
sleeping
.
Only
the
vigilance
and
care
of
Rebeca
kept
him
from
being
dragged
off
by
his
imagination
into
a
state
of
perpetual
delirium
from
which
he
would
not
recover
.
He
would
spend
the
nights
walking
around
the
room
thinking
aloud
,
searching
for
a
way
to
apply
the
principles
of
the
pendulum
to
oxcarts
,
to
harrows
,
to
everything
that
was
useful
when
put
into
motion
.
The
fever
of
insomnia
fatigued
him
so
much
that
one
dawn
he
could
not
recognize
the
old
man
with
white
hair
and
uncertain
gestures
who
came
into
his
bedroom
.
It
was
Prudencio
Aguilar
.
When
he
finally
identified
him
,
startled
that
the
dead
also
aged
,
José
Arcadio
Buendía
felt
himself
shaken
by
nostalgia
.
"
Prudencio
,
"
he
exclaimed
.
"
You
've
come
from
a
long
way
off
!
"
After
many
years
of
death
the
yearning
for
the
living
was
so
intense
,
the
need
for
company
so
pressing
,
so
terrifying
the
neatness
that
other
death
which
exists
within
death
,
that
Prudencio
Aguilar
had
ended
up
loving
his
worst
enemy
.
He
had
spent
a
great
deal
of
time
looking
for
him
.
He
asked
the
dead
from
Riohacha
about
him
,
the
dead
who
came
from
the
Upar
Valley
,
those
who
came
from
the
swamp
,
and
no
one
could
tell
him
because
Macondo
was
a
town
that
was
unknown
to
the
dead
until
Melquíades
arrived
and
marked
it
with
a
small
black
dot
on
the
motley
maps
of
death
.
José
Arcadio
Buendía
conversed
with
Prudencio
Aguilar
until
dawn
.
A
few
hours
later
,
worn
out
by
the
vigil
,
he
went
into
Aureliano
's
workshop
and
asked
him
:
"
What
day
is
today
?
"
Aureliano
told
him
that
it
was
Tuesday
.
"
I
was
thinking
the
same
thing
,
"
José
Arcadio
Buendía
said
,
"
but
suddenly
I
realized
that
it
's
still
Monday
,
like
yesterday
.
Look
at
the
sky
,
look
at
the
walls
,
look
at
the
begonias
.
Today
is
Monday
too
.
"
Used
to
his
manias
,
Aureliano
paid
no
attention
to
him
.
On
the
next
day
,
Wednesday
,
José
Arcadio
Buendía
went
back
to
the
workshop
.
"
This
is
a
disaster
,
"
he
said
.
"
Look
at
the
air
,
listen
to
the
buzzing
of
the
sun
,
the
same
as
yesterday
and
the
day
before
.
Today
is
Monday
too
.
"
That
night
Pietro
Crespi
found
him
on
the
porch
,
weeping
for
Prudencio
Aguilar
,
for
Melquíades
,
for
Rebeca
's
parents
,
for
his
mother
and
father
,
for
all
of
those
he
could
remember
and
who
were
now
alone
in
death
.
He
gave
him
a
mechanical
bear
that
walked
on
its
hind
legs
on
a
tightrope
,
but
he
could
not
distract
him
from
his
obsession
.
He
asked
him
what
had
happened
to
the
project
he
had
explained
to
him
a
few
days
before
about
the
possibility
of
building
a
pendulum
machine
that
would
help
men
to
fly
and
he
answered
that
it
was
impossible
because
a
pendulum
could
lift
anything
into
the
air
but
it
could
not
lift
itself
.
On
Thursday
he
appeared
in
the
workshop
again
with
the
painful
look
of
plowed
ground
.
"
The
time
machine
has
broken
,
"
he
almost
sobbed
,
"
úrsula
and
Amaranta
so
far
away
!
"
Aureliano
scolded
him
like
a
child
he
adopted
a
contrite
air
.
He
spent
six
hours
examining
things
,
trying
to
find
a
difference
from
their
appearance
on
the
previous
day
in
the
hope
of
discovering
in
them
some
change
that
would
reveal
the
passage
of
time
.
He
spent
the
whole
night
in
bed
with
his
eyes
open
,
calling
to
Prudencio
Aguilar
,
to
Melquíades
,
to
all
the
dead
,
so
that
they
would
share
his
distress
.
But
no
one
came
.
On
Friday
.
before
anyone
arose
,
he
watched
the
appearance
of
nature
again
until
he
did
not
have
the
slightest
doubt
but
that
it
was
Monday
.
Then
he
grabbed
the
bar
from
a
door
and
with
the
savage
violence
his
uncommon
strength
he
smashed
to
dust
the
equipment
in
the
alchemy
laboratory
,
the
daguerreotype
room
,
the
silver
workshop
,
shouting
like
a
man
possessed
in
some
high-sounding
and
fluent
but
completely
incomprehensible
language
.
He
was
about
to
finish
off
the
rest
of
the
house
when
Aureliano
asked
the
neighbors
for
help
Ten
men
were
needed
to
get
him
down
,
fourteen
to
tie
him
up
,
twenty
to
drag
him
to
the
chestnut
tree
in
the
courtyard
,
where
they
left
him
tied
up
,
barking
in
the
strange
language
and
giving
off
a
green
froth
at
the
mouth
.
When
úrsula
and
Amaranta
returned
he
was
still
tied
to
the
trunk
of
the
chestnut
tree
by
his
hands
feet
,
soaked
with
rain
and
in
a
state
of
total
innocence
.
They
spoke
to
him
and
he
looked
at
them
without
recognizing
them
,
saying
things
they
did
not
understand
.
úrsula
untied
his
wrists
and
ankles
,
lacerated
by
the
pressure
of
the
rope
,
and
left
him
tied
only
by
the
waist
.
Later
on
they
built
him
a
shelter
of
palm
brandies
to
protect
him
from
the
sun
and
the
rain
.
