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#ÇѱÛÈ­ : Ÿ§¾Æ¹öÁö(200608)
#oclyfm@medigate.net, ^.^~*

 

Dear Lola,...

 

I'm in Poblenou, at a barricade.

 

After the battle of the Ebro the
Nationalists drove us into the sea.

 

They are crossing the Llobregat

 

as I write to you, quite pointlessly.

 

I could keep on running...

 

but the war has brought
me to your birthplace,

 

like returning home,

 

as if you were waiting for me.

 

I liked your letter.

 

It's been a long time
since I got a love letter.

 

I didn't write it.

 

He did.

 

It's the same. You sent it to me.

 

How did you know I was in BarceIona?

 

Everybody told me, except you.

 

That you were staying
at your father's place...

 

with a son, and without a husband.

 

Don't look at him that way,
I'm starting to hate him.

 

Who was he?

 

An Argentine guy who died in BarceIona
when the nationalists arrived.

 

His pictures of the
war aren't bad, but...

 

these ones are a complete mystery.

 

Look.

 

We got them from a collector.

 

The letter came as part of
the lot, in his notebook.

 

And the pages of the letter,
did you tear them out?

 

No, they were loose, like
this. But he didn't mail it.

 

Look.

 

-Have a good look.
-What?

 

She's exactly like you were at her age.

 

You escaped from me
until the very last night,

 

when the tour was over and
you were going back to Spain.

 

All of Buenos Aires was
at the farewell party.

 

I couldn't cope with it all,
handing over chorus girls,

 

but you...I saved for myself.

 

No one else in the company
undressed like you did.

 

As if it were a relief. As
if no one could hurt you.

 

LoIa!

 

Nothing in this life could scare you.

 

Not in this one, nor
in the other one either.

 

I almost fell!

 

-You scared the life out of me!
-What were you going to do?

 

Kill myself...

 

-So they would all see.
-See you naked?

 

If a photo can steal your
soul, I took yours that night.

 

Your memory is still intact, motionless,

 

caught in that photo
like a fallen angel.

 

Is that the woman in the letter?

 

I don't know, she looks
like a chorus girl.

 

There is a DoIores in the program.

 

But the letter could be for anyone.

 

Anyway. She's a character.

 

Go to Argentina, investigate
that period and write about it.

 

Once...

 

at my convent, I took all my clothes
off in the confessional booth.

 

That day I finished
my primary education.

 

-How old were you?
-Fourteen.

 

I took my clothes off
and sang ''Els Segadors''.

 

Bon colp de falc!

 

Did you hear the general's speech?

 

He toasted ''the return of
the company to our Spain...

 

traditional Spain which has begun
to free itself from the reds''.

 

I was taking photos of him.

 

You went upstairs as if
he'd insulted your mother.

 

My father.

 

Do you know why the nuns threw me out?

 

Because my father burned a
church and they killed him.

 

They are my family.

 

Nobody else cares if I leave or stay.

 

Me. I do.

 

You're going to Patagonia.

 

You were the only one
who hadn't packed up.

 

You didn't want to go back to Spain,

 

but didn't dare stay on your own either.

 

You'd heard all the bull shit.

 

Do you really care about me?

 

The truth is, you saved my life.

 

You can do what you like with me.

 

Don't sell your soul to the devil.

 

Who said anything about a soul?

 

You did as you pleased,

 

without thinking of the
price you'd have to pay.

 

And whether you stay or
go, it's never for free.

 

And finding out what you
want doesn't come free either.

 

-How long are you staying?
-Till Sunday.

 

On Monday I've got to be back at work.

 

Writing silly articles
for a women's magazine.

 

I didn't send you this letter
just so I could see you, Vera.

 

I want you to publish.

 

By the age of 20 you had won
some award and published a novel.

 

That was then.

 

When you ran behind me picking
up the papers I'd thrown away.

 

The other day I mentioned
this book at dinner

 

and my father got up from the table.

 

He's never read it,

 

but he couldn't stand
his patients praising it.

 

-It messed up my life, you know?
-Your father.

 

The book.

 

Are you sure you want
me to write another one?

 

That afternoon when you took this
photo of me fills an entire chapter.

 

And I didn't dare write about all of it.

 

Many years have gone by. Does it show?

 

What is it, Vera?

 

I have a lump here. Feel it.

 

My sister is waiting to
take me to her gynecologist.

 

-will you never ask me to stay?
-You have to go to the gynecologist.

 

Jordi!

 

The things you say, Vera.

 

When you left me for Antonio.

 

You see? You don't understand anything.

 

That's why no woman will last
beyond the third fuck with you.

 

-I was with you for a year.
-Barely eleven months.

 

The happiest time of my life.

 

The only time when I didn't
feel alone in the whole world.

 

-Digame'l en catala.
-Et vaig estimar molt.

 

CataIan...

 

That's the voice of
my mother. Her words.

 

I lie on my childhood bed and
her stories swirl round my head.

 

Do you lie on other beds?

 

Nobody's asked me to.

 

Hello, Toni.

 

Sorry to interrupt your meeting.

 

We're back in Madrid and I wanted
to make arrangements for Juanito.

 

-Where are you?
-in Avenida de America.

 

There's loads of traffic...
Everybody's coming back to town.

 

The thing is... I won't be
staying at home, Antonio.

 

I also wanted to tell you that.

 

I don't know what my father
said, but I've made up my mind.

 

I've been thinking about it all month.

 

It's better that I don't stay
at home, even for one night.

 

If MaribeI's at home
I'll leave him with her.

 

I love you too.

 

Guess who's waiting
for you in the bathtub?

 

Pikachu.

 

Shall we give him a bath
while MaribeI makes dinner?

 

And then later...

 

Remember we talked about mummy
not staying at home tonight?

 

Why?

 

I've already explained it to you.

 

You know sometimes you do
things and you don't know why?

 

And then you tell me off.

 

I need to be alone, my love.
To find out what I want.

 

What do you want?

 

I don't know.

 

I don't want to get confused
by what my father wants for me.

 

Or grandpa, or whoever.

 

It's been the same all my life.

 

And now it's almost happening
again with your father.

 

The train seemed to
me like a phantom ship,

 

adrift.

 

You would give in to whatever
happened without any impatience.

 

But I, who always want
what I haven't got,

 

counted out the minutes like a prisoner.

 

Don't you want to make your wishes?

 

What wishes?

 

It's Cap d'an. New Year.

 

You eat a grape with each ring of
the bell and ask for what you want.

 

-Who are you missing tonight?
-Nobody.

 

Not even your family?

 

I really miss my uncle.

 

If my father met your uncle
he'd throw him in jail.

 

He hunts anarchists.

 

So you can really wish for
twelve things altogether?

 

I wish for everything I want.

 

It's twelve o'clock!

 

I was afraid of you.

 

I can only admit

 

that now you're dead.

 

Your body scared me, so full of life.

 

Emllio, there are no grapes, but
there's wine, it's the same thing.

 

And I find this hard to admit but...

 

life separated us more than death did.

 

I want to always fall in love like this.

 

With me.

 

With whoever! With whom I choose.

 

With me.

 

I wish you would die for me.

 

May all my wishes come true.

 

It's no good saying ''all''.

 

You've got to say them one by one.

 

If you don't cheat the
wish will come true.

 

Jordi!

 

I was dreaming.

 

You saved my life.

 

In a hotel.

 

Last night. I took Juanito
home and called you.

 

I haven't felt this lonely
since my mother died.

 

I started typing on
her typewriter. Listen.

 

A blank page.

 

You can't read anything,
the ribbon's completely dry.

 

About that woman.

 

The one in the photos.
The one in the letter.

 

The letter from the
photographer, the guy you hate.

 

I was dreaming about him. He
was photographing me stark naked.

 

Just like that. We're going to meet.

 

Excuse me. Hang on.

 

This thing about Argentina is still on?

 

I'm going to leave the magazine.

 

I don't have to think it over.
I'm not going to stay here.

 

Because I can't stand feeling
like shit just 100 meters away

 

from where my son is feeling
like shit, as if I were dead!

 

Last night I cried more than he did.

 

And if I think it over, I'll
end up agreeing with Antonio.

 

I'll be back home in three
days. It's better if I go.

 

As soon as possible.

 

Nothing.

 

Just see the gynecologist and have
a few tests. Three or four days.

 

The time it'll take you to send
me the ticket and the photos.

 

Thanks.

 

I'll do a good job, you'll see.

 

We wanted to get to
the end of the world.

 

There weren't even any roads.

 

When the gringo landed at Bah? Blanca

 

we were already about to board a ship.

 

He confirmed my first job.

 

It wasn't much money, but
enough for our trip to the south.

 

This Gringo Orestes was a peddler

 

who had a plane instead of a cart.

 

You got into that machine

 

as if you'd always been
delivering stuff in Patagonia.

 

The town popped up, in
the middle of nowhere.

 

That first stop
promised a pleasant stay.

 

Easy work, bed, and food.

 

I had to take photos for a musician...

 

to illustrate the covers of his scores.

 

Nobody knew his name.

 

Even his son called him
by his sumame: ''Su?ez''.

 

Gringo! Did you bring the records?

 

Here we are, Su?ez. I got everything.

 

I've brought the photographer
and everything we'll need

 

for the great Radio EI
Mundo tango competition.

 

Santamarina. Su?ez.

 

EI Pibe Pedro,

 

Bandoneon pIayer and future composer.

 

Emllio, right? The Gringo
speaks highly of you.

 

Did you come alone?

 

DoIores Puig. A friend of Emllio's.

 

Your hands are cold.

 

Welcome to Patagonia.

 

The ones I'll send to the
contest are like these...

 

only they'll have your photographs.

 

-How much will you pay me?
-You tell me.

 

Who'll see the photos?

 

Tell me about them
and I'll imagine them.

 

How was the trip?

 

I wouldn't get in one of
those if they tied me up.

 

I loved it. I must have been
a bird in a previous life.

 

Yes, women are braver than men.

 

We're only good for falling in love.

 

Doing artistic things:

 

taking photographs, composing a tango.

 

Or piloting a plane,
if you're brave enough.

 

But when you really need a man,

 

call a woman.

 

Su?ez reminded me of my father.

 

He liked lecturing.

 

He despised people from Buenos Aires
but wanted them to dance his tangos.

 

He'd decided to illustrate
his scores with women.

 

That's why I took an
interest in Matilde.

 

When you climbed that ladder behind her,

 

I had a premonition.

 

I didn't tell you. l didn't
want to be a prophet of doom.

 

For you, that couple of
weeks in Su?ez's hotel...

 

was part of the adventure.

 

Aren't there any whales?

 

They come in winter, in June or July.

 

Get out! Get out!

 

I told you I don't
want you sleeping here.

 

Everything's upside down here.

 

Even the moon's upside down.

 

This room is shameful.

 

Shameful, why?

 

My name is DoIores.

 

They call me LoIa.

 

Matllde.

 

Emllio told me about this place.

 

Apart from being a hotel it's also...

 

Nobody will bother you. Don't be afraid.

 

I'm not afraid, just curious.

 

I was invited to one in Buenos
Aires but I didn't want to go.

 

So you let women in here?

 

Aren't I a woman?

 

Every once in a while I fall
asleep with my pen in my hand.

 

And I can feel you behind my back,

 

peering from this letter
like in the darkroom.

 

These ghosts who appear in
the photos are all that remain.

 

Nameless faces...

 

that someone will find in some
dead photographer's bag under a bed.

 

Don't touch, please.

 

It'll be sore for a few
days. Try to put up with it.

 

You've been dreaming a lot.

 

It's the anaesthesia.

 

You were talking in
your sleep all night.

 

-What was I saying?
-Something about photos.

 

I'm preparing a book
of photos from the '30s.

 

Sounds good. How lovely.

 

You'll have to go to a "milonga," then.

 

I've already been.

 

They asked me to dance,
but I didn't dare.

 

I'm hopeless.

 

Liar. You can't tell me
you don't dance tango.

 

Don't listen to her.

 

-What's wrong with her?
-I'm old, what do you think?

 

But I have a good memory.

 

You're CataIonian, aren't you?

 

Isn't everybody in town
''giving you the glad eye''?

 

Oh! Listen to that!
Something for your book.

 

That expression's antique, grandma!

 

What does it mean?

 

That all the men chase after you.

 

My God, yes. Men certainly
do stare at you here.

 

Like we were running around naked.

 

One of these days you'll we
walking in the streets again,

 

and they'll be murmuring
their compliments as you pass.

 

As if I still had both breasts.

 

Did you know what you
had before coming in here?

 

I'd had a few tests.

 

But I didn't think
it would grow so fast.

 

-What was the doctor's name?
-Dr. Zimmerman.

 

He said I should go back
to Madrid for the operation.

 

But you didn't listen.

 

If I were you, I'd have
listened. You should go home.

 

What home?

 

You don't have anyone back in Spain?

 

I have a son...

 

I have a husband...

 

and my father is a doctor,
he'd take care of everything.

 

But I'd be as lonely as I am here.

 

Here I have no one to turn
to. It's clearer this way.

 

Last night, a friend
from BarceIona called you.

 

Jordi?

 

That's him.

 

He's going to call again.

 

He asked me not to say
anything, to keep it a surprise.

 

-He seemed sweet.
-Why did he call here?

 

Didn't you give his name
when you checked in here?

 

Just in case something happened.

 

Did you think I'd leave without paying?

 

And why do you think you
ended up in the cardio unit?

 

You're OK now, but in the operating
theatre you had an arrhythmia.

 

If Zimmerman has something to
say, he should say it to me.

 

Not to anybody else.

 

You've got to leave this place.

 

Alright, grandma, now
Vera needs some rest, OK?

 

Her name is not Vera.
She's called DoIores.

 

Straight away, you arranged
things so as not to be alone.

 

There you were,

 

leaning the ways of your new family.

 

Matilde danced, unaware
that you were spying on her.

 

But I knew from that very first night

 

that there, far away from everything...

 

you were beginning to
find out who you were.

 

How's our Gallega doing?

 

I'm ''La CataIana''.

 

In Argentina all Spaniards
are called ''Gallegos''.

 

Come in, don't be afraid.

 

How did you know it was me?

 

I heard you.

 

Your heartbeat is accelerating.

 

No to mention what I can smell.

 

You're just a girl.

 

How old are you?

 

Don't you want to
tell me about yourself?

 

I don't feel like it right now.

 

Did we bring that?

 

I ask the questions here.

 

-Do you want to try?
-No. Sorry.

 

I can't stand mysteries.

 

If you play with fire...

 

You're not blind.

 

I can see something.

 

Lights...

 

and shadows.

 

Lights and shadows.

 

Have you been like that all your life?

 

I've managed to see
what I needed to see.

 

You haven't seen me.

 

Come.

 

Here.

 

Gringo told me about you.

 

But he undersold you.

 

They tell me you're a dancer.

 

A chorus girl. Instead
of dancing I flash my ass.

 

I can dance ''sardana'',
thanks to my mother.

 

Do you want to try dancing tango?

 

Just walk, that's all.
Smooth, like a queen.

 

Squeezing your pussy.

 

Look who's here, grandma!

 

Hello.

 

It's forbidden, but thanks.

 

How's it going?

 

Here I am. They're keeping me
alive to get money out of me.

 

Is that so? Let's ask the
girls to unplug you then.

 

Do it, I can die for free anywhere else.

 

Nurse, separate the old lady for me!

 

Stop that, you'll get us all fired.

 

I went down to the nursing
home and picked up the scores.

 

-What did you want them for?
-They won't believe I was young once.

 

Don't tell me this is you, grandma!

 

Didn't you have any shame?

 

Shame of what? Not here...

 

but here, we women are
virgins all our lives.

 

Even LoIa.

 

Though she liked pIaying the whore.

 

Don't touch that!

 

-What are those?
-Money.

 

Two bits for a fuck,
four for the whole night.

 

Not two weeks had gone by

 

and you already seemed one of them.

 

You went from table to
table, so as not to get bored,

 

confusing the clients.

 

You take photos of her?

 

Naked?

 

Dressed as a chorus girl.

 

Like I did in the train?

 

I'll show you later.

 

But like this...

 

No.

 

No?

 

No!

 

-It would cost you a lot.
-How much?

 

all those tokens.

 

The bandoneon was sacred.

 

But you never asked permission.

 

You couldn't go through
life without playing it.

 

If you drop it, I'll
beat the shit out of you.

 

Is it very difficult?

 

Your whole life wouldn't be long enough.

 

Does it bother you that
Emllio sleeps with us?

 

Why should it bother her?

 

Sometimes I eat at home

 

and sometimes I eat at a restaurant.

 

Like your clients do.

 

Get out!

 

You're like flies..

 

I stole this from a theatre.
If you like it, it's yours.

 

Stay still.

 

That's it.

 

Both of you.

 

The only thing you never
touched was the books.

 

But you knew by heart all the
stuff you'd learned in bed.

 

You wanted to teach Matilde,
who was a professional.

 

It's funny, isn't it?

 

A whore who doesn't
believe in sharing her body.

 

Want to see how Emllio
doesn't believe in it either?

 

That you're the one
who'll screw other people?

 

We do as we please.

 

You know what?

 

This breaks only once.

 

And then you're a virgin for life.

 

The only one you could
fool was the kid...

 

He couldn't stop staring at you.

 

And at me too.

 

But he looked at me like it'd
been all my fault from the start.

 

Did you get laid yet, big boy?

 

Which one do you prefer?

 

Sometimes I remember that kid.

 

I guess he's still pawing
your photos and your memories.

 

The few we left behind.

 

What are you doing up?

 

If you need anything,
just ask. Go back to bed.

 

Want to see them? Alright.

 

You go back to bed and
I'll bring them to you.

 

-I must call Jordi.
-No, you can't.

 

Isn't that your friend
who called from Spain?

 

You can't call overseas from here.

 

You can call tomorrow,
when we transfer you.

 

There's a payphone in the hall.

 

Come on.

 

-Vera!
-Give me some change.

 

You can't call Spain with
coins. You need a card.

 

-Give me a card then.
-Where would I get one?

 

Have you got a card?

 

Me? No.

 

please, Vera, you'll get me
into trouble. Don't you realize?

 

What don't I realize?
That I've got cancer?

 

That I'll be excavated like my mother?

 

Of course I do! Better than anyone else!

 

-Vera, .listen...
-No, you listen!

 

I'll do with my life, and I've no
idea how much there is left of it

 

as I fucking please! OK?

 

If you want to help me, get me a card.

 

I have one.

 

-Thanks. Matllde's related to you?
-She's like a grandmother.

 

She thinks I'm somebody else.
A CataIonian, like myself.

 

Jordi? It's Vera.

 

I'm fine, I swear.

 

No, that's not why I'm calling.

 

It's about the book.

 

I think I've found something.

 

I'm not crazy!

 

I've had a breast removed, not my brain!

 

Don't tell my sister...

 

It's as bad as telling my father.

 

Let Antonio think what he likes,
that I'm here to dance, fuck...

 

whatever, but I don't want him
to know about the operation.

 

Good.

 

Listen.

 

Try and remember

 

if you've ever seen a photo of
that woman with a ''bandone?''.

 

The one who looks just like
me. Naked, with a ''bandone?''.

 

A ''bandone?''! A musical
instrument, Jordi, Jesus!

 

The ''bandone?'', Su?ez.

 

Sit down.

 

Listen.

 

If you play it like this...

 

It'll just moan.

 

But if you spread your legs...

 

wide apart...

 

it sighs...

 

for you.

 

And if you do this and touch here...

 

it just gives in.

 

Su?ez.

 

You're in the picture. Move.

 

Listen.

 

G.

 

A, G, F, G...

 

Move it, Su?ez, please...

 

It's like a woman.

 

You have to know where to
press the right buttons.

 

Look at me.

 

Don't you like it when I look at Su?ez?

 

And Matllde?

 

Look at me.

 

I can't see you.

 

It's as if you were spying on me.

 

Look at me.

 

I can't see you.

 

That wasn't you any more.

 

You were my invention.
Or an invention of Su?ez,

 

who said that picture was the best,

 

even though he'd never seen any of them.

 

She's about to be christened.

 

I've been looking for
this for so long now, girl.

 

Your smell is a B...

 

...a B fIat.

 

E, F, G, A.

 

G, F, E, D, C, F.

 

D, E, F, G, E, D, C...

 

B, C, D...

 

I'm going to dedicate this tango to you.

 

It's yours.

 

Yours forever.

 

When are you leaving?

 

Early tomorrow.

 

I'll pay the Gringo for the photos
once you leave them at the printers.

 

I shouldn't really have to pay for them

 

since you ended up
with such a good deal.

 

Are you sure about this?

 

You haven't fallen in love?

 

Me?

 

With this woman?

 

She's not the kind of
woman you fall in love with.

 

I couldn't take it that
she's fucking other guys.

 

What do you think being
in love is, you fool?

 

I don't know...

 

It didn't happen to me, but...

 

I think she is.

 

She's a girl to fall for, this one.

 

It wouldn't even occur to
Emllio, even if he was drunk.

 

What do you think being in love is?

 

A mistake.

 

Bull shit.

 

It's healing well.

 

On Monday I'll take the stitches out.

 

Enough.

 

I'm going to put a
waterproof dressing on it.

 

If you're careful,
you can take a shower.

 

First, can I see if for myself?

 

Go ahead.

 

You can come and see me
on Monday at 4 PM, alright?

 

You can fly to Madrid that same night.

 

You can even book it.

 

Alright.

 

Once I'm back in Madrid
I'll start chemotherapy.

 

For now, just take the
antibiotics for another week...

 

the Painkliers every six hours...

 

and if the pain is too much,

 

go to the drugstore and get this.

 

This will make you feel dizzy.

 

You're still on your own?

 

Absolutely.

 

What are you going to do this weekend?

 

I guess I'll stay at my hotel.

 

Why?

 

Have you got other plans for me?

 

You haven't told me if I'll
need chemotherapy yet or not.

 

I get the biopsy results
tomorrow. But it's probable, yes.

 

You're very young, Vera. At your age...

 

I'm the same age my mother was.

 

My father made her have
chemotherapy, but she died anyway.

 

You start low and move
up as high as you can.

 

As high as the spider will take
you. Every day, a little bit higher.

 

You'll be okay.

 

I can tell when they bring them
back from the operating theatre.

 

You look at them in the
eye and you just know.

 

When they wake up you
wonder what they saw,

 

where they were.

 

I'm not a believer, but to
me, they look like astronauts.

 

I don't know, I've never looked
an astronaut in the eye, but...

 

but I know there are things
that belong to another order.

 

Don't let Dr. Zimmerman hear this...

 

but there are things doctors don't know,

 

and they can't explain.

 

They wheel in some
really desperate cases,

 

not a hope in hell, but
they seem to survive.

 

If we forget ourselves and start
talking as if you weren't there,

 

you're the one who's got to tell us:

 

Hey, hang on, wait a
minute, I haven't left yet.

 

It's up to you.

 

Either you sink or swim,
no one can do it for you.

 

-Have the whales come yet?
-They've been here a while now.

 

Did you dive with them?

 

Tell me!

 

A boy wanted to know where
the whales go when they leave.

 

In winter he'd look at
them from the shore...

 

and in summer he'd keep on asking.

 

Wait for me!

 

But when people talked about the sea,

 

they'd talk about the surface.

 

They'd tell him to be
careful, not to swim too deep.

 

Not a word about the whales.

 

One day he stopped asking,

 

and went to swim with the whales.

 

Go on.

 

Down there you see
everything upside down.

 

The surface is a shiny crystal...

 

and whales fly.

 

The boy realized from shore you
see the wrong side of the sea.

 

From the bottom you
can see the reaI sea.

 

He was a bit scared.

 

Why? What happened?

 

Nothing, they just got too close.

 

whales are shy, but
they're also curious.

 

They stared at him with
their great big eyes...

 

to have a good look at him.

 

I'm the one who's the
mystery, thought the boy.

 

And at that moment, he realized
that everything is relative.

 

That there's really very
little that we can understand.

 

So he stopped wondering
where the whales go...

 

and was happy to just
sit and wait for them.

 

Where do they go?

 

I don't know.

 

Something tells them they have to leave.

 

And they trust that.

 

A call...

 

the command of the species.

 

The migration of the souls.

 

Something takes them to their destiny.

 

They come and they go,

 

even if we'll never
know where they've been.

 

It's not a fish!

 

It's got warm blood! And it's
got a harpoon stuck in it!

 

Pedro! Come here!

 

-What's it like?
-Huge.

 

And when they are about to die,

 

they come out onto the beach.

 

No, grandma, no. They
die in the deep sea.

 

Every now and then, one gets stranded.

 

But we don't know why.

 

Because they're tired.

 

I'm tired too.

 

will you take me there?

 

Throw me into the sea.

 

Your father will tell you where.

 

And don't forget to get the money.

 

The painting is hanging over the bed.

 

Give it to her...

 

tell her to come closer.

 

Come here, CataIonian.

 

Don't be afraid.

 

Take care of that painting for me.

 

I took really good care of it.

 

I've been keeping it safe for you...

 

my whole life.

 

Get out, please. Get out now.

 

Out of here! Both of you!

 

Cardiac arrest!

 

I don't know why I went to that
beach, it was like a circus.

 

Watching an accident of nature.

 

I called the photo that I gave

 

''The Call of the Species''.

 

Not just because of the
story she used to tell.

 

I gave it that title for you too.

 

LoIa!

 

Come here, Emllio!

 

-Give me your hand.
-Get out!

 

Come on, come into the water!

 

Are you afraid of getting the money

 

that you've hidden in your pocket wet?

 

-What did they pay you for?
-The photos.

 

And what was Orestes paid for?

 

I don't know, LoIa, perhaps
for having brought us.

 

And me?

 

How much do I get for posing naked?

 

I don't know, LoIa, you should
sort that out with Suarez.

 

I don't owe you anything.

 

Yes, you do owe me!

 

You owe me a trip to
the end of the world!

 

Remember, you bastard!

 

You are free to come and
go and fuck anyone you like.

 

I'm not even owner of my own body!

 

Hello, Vera, love.

 

We've had a lovely
Sunday, haven't we Juanito?

 

And Juanito has leamed something new.

 

Hang on... Juanito. Do it for mummy.

 

He's leaned how to whistle.
He's been pract sing for you.

 

When are you coming back?

 

It's me, Antonio. I've been
calling you every day this week.

 

They said at the hotel that
you'd gone. Where are you?

 

Hello, mum, welcome to your computer.

 

Hello, Vera. This is Jordi.

 

Antonio called me, freaked out
because he couldn't find you.

 

I had to tell him, Vera.

 

Hello, mum, welcome to your comp......

 

Vera, I'm calling about Matilde's photo.

 

I'm going to go to her nursing home,

 

but I'm not sure how
to give you directions.

 

She's to be cremated tomorrow,
at 9AM at Chacarita cemetery.

 

If you like, |I'll meet you there.

 

Hello.

 

In Spain we give two kisses.

 

I spent all night doing paperwork.

 

Not even dying is easy in this country.

 

Can I help you?

 

-Do you want them?
-would you give them to me?

 

I can't fit anything else in here.

 

The CataIonian that
intrigued you so much.

 

Matllde loved her.

 

Even though my grandfather
dedicated his best tango to her.

 

He was a musician, but lived off women.

 

And this one, the CataIonian
woman, was called DoIores?

 

Why can't I go by plane?

 

I weigh nothing, less than a letter.

 

I want to go alone.

 

How many days will you spend in TreIew?

 

I don't know, LoIa.

 

I have to find a laboratory,

 

make the copies, talk to the printers...

 

What if you never come back?

 

How do I get back to Buenos Aires?

 

You're not free... You're a coward.

 

Gentlemen!

 

I want to make a toast!

 

To our friend, the photographer.

 

May he follow his destiny! Cheers!

 

Who knows what marvels he will he find?

 

But there's none better than
the one he's leaving behind.

 

he l've always been
intrigued by her legend.

 

What legend?

 

Something they say

 

she did, which gave
the name to the tango.

 

The light bulb.

 

-That's it.
-What do you mean?

 

Now it's nice and warm.

 

Now I want you to play for me.

 

Apparently the first time

 

my grandfather played
this tango in public

 

she danced to it.

 

With a light bulb
stuck between her legs.

 

Here's 500, I'll send the rest as usual.

 

Alright.

 

When I came to study here
I lived at MatiIde's place.

 

I slept on the couch,
looking at that photo.

 

A couple of times I asked her about it,

 

but she would get lost in thought.

 

She would just start talking to herself.

 

Poor old thing.

 

-Where is this place?
-In Patagonia.

 

What did you come to
Buenos Aires to study?

 

Biology. Three years.

 

Then I had to leave and dropped out.

 

In Mexico I used to take
tourists on scuba diving trips.

 

Is it true you swim with whales?

 

I'm supposed to only observe them.

 

-I wouldn't like that...
-What?

 

You just observing me.

 

If I were a whale, I mean.

 

What are you going to do with all this?

 

The lady asked me to clear her room out.

 

I have to go. I'm
going to miss my plane.

 

Besides, if there's
something I can't stand,

 

it's collecting memories.

 

Is that so?

 

And I don't like farewells either.

 

Be careful.

 

Aren't you going to ask
me what they did to me?

 

No.

 

They removed a tumour
the size of a walnut...

 

the left breast and I
don't know what else.

 

The stitches are still there...

 

like barbed wire.

 

-I wanted you to know.
-I knew.

 

I could show you my heart. Really...

 

You can see it between my ribs.

 

The heartbeats.

 

Here, a memento. Take anything
you like, but let's go.

 

Anything?

 

Go, then. Don't miss your flight.
I'll take care of everything.

 

-I've already missed it.
-You can still make it.

 

This is the peak season.

 

They'll be starting on
the waiting list by now.

 

Do you really mean it?

 

I'd like to stay here
for a while, on my own.

 

Really?

 

I'll like to give you something of mine.

 

I wrote this.

 

Seriously?

 

This can't be you? Yes, it
is, when you were a girl!

 

Look at this, you posed for
photos naked, just like...

 

You really do look alike. She
wasn't far wrong, the old lady.

 

Stop it!

 

-So you were a writer.
-You said it: I was.

 

-When I did what I wanted.
-Like what?

 

I don't know, what I wanted.

 

Like what?

 

Like fucking a stranger.

 

-Who is it?
-It's me, Suarez.

 

Here. Take this. Urondo's token.

 

Take it!

 

The plane went out over the
sea and we flew over the beacon.

 

The tide was high and
the whale had gone.

 

I had a weird feeling, one of relief,

 

that stayed with me for
the rest of the joumey.

 

As if everything had fallen into place.

 

This morning a whale was stranded
on the shores of Patagonia.

 

-Here's the story.
-For reasons we are not aware

 

this 15 metre-long
adult whale was stranded.

 

Apparently it's a female.

 

We are working with volunteers
and staff from the institute

 

in an effort to keep it alive.

 

And we're hoping that at high tide
it might free itself naturally.

 

Thanks to our colleagues
at Puerto Madryn TV

 

for this coverage...

 

-What are you doing here?
-I called the Institute.

 

They told me you were with the whale.

 

That you'd be back
here when it got dark.

 

When I saw that it was stranded again...

 

It was stranded again?

 

That a whale was stranded
again on the same spot.

 

-What was that?
-whales.

 

Mating. This place
is perfect for mating.

 

The Seal. This is Vera.

 

-Hello, SeaI.
-Hello, Vera.

 

I guess I also came to see you again.

 

I'm sorry, it's not my
fault. Somebody called me.

 

Well... me.

 

It seems to make no sense to you?

 

But it's like the boy in your story,

 

we can't really understand much.

 

The same happened to me with Matllde.

 

I felt I was being called
and went up to say goodbye.

 

I thought it was me who was leaving.

 

Do you have any rooms free?

 

-How's the whale?
-Still alive.

 

It's under the beacon on the cliff.

 

Wasn't the one with
the harpoon over there?

 

-Somewhere around there.
-Where did it have the harpoon?

 

Stuck right here. Behind the eye.

 

I'm sorry, madam, we have no rooms left.

 

She can have mine.
I'll sleep on the boat.

 

-You're crazy. You can't.
-It's yours.

 

The whale you mentioned,
the one with the harpoon,

 

-was that many years ago?
-It was 1934.

 

A long time ago...

 

could it be the same whale?

 

She'd have to be very old.

 

What do I do with this?

 

I don't know. He sent it to you.

 

Didn't he give you
anything else? No letter?

 

He sent the scores for Suarez.

 

And he asked me to give you
one as a souvenir, that's all.

 

You can't work like this.
Aren't you taking anything?

 

When I get back I'll
bring you some medicine.

 

Where was Emllio going?

 

He was on his way
south, to Puerto Deseado.

 

He was going to take a
ship for Tierra deI Fuego.

 

Suarez owes me money. It's yours
if you can get me out of here.

 

I could hide in the
plane. Nobody will know.

 

And afterwards? How could I come back?

 

I have to work here.

 

Take care of that cold of yours.

 

The Gringo Orestes had the
habit of talking to himself.

 

Once he told me that forgotten words

 

could still be heard in the air.

 

That if you repeated them, the
same things would happen again.

 

I'm writing this,

 

the things I never told
you, in case that's true.

 

When these photos were taken

 

they didn't think
about identifying them.

 

Look...

 

...the calluses are the same.

 

Your hunch is not so absurd.

 

Scientists don't
believe in these things?

 

On the contrary.

 

That's what we do.

 

Last night I dropped by
but I couldn't find you.

 

Do you always write at night?

 

-It's been ages since I wrote.
-You got inspired.

 

This place is ideal for that too.

 

They say you just have to get started.

 

The problem is, if it doesn't
come out, it rots inside.

 

Each of these represented
a pile of money.

 

They made combs, nitro glycerine,

 

oils, all sorts of stuff.

 

-How long can it hold out?
-Probably, until another tide.

 

There isn't much we can do.

 

Keep her wet, and scare the
fucking seagulls hurting her.

 

It's sink or swim. If she doesn't
free herself nobody else can.

 

And what if it was the same one?

 

I don't know, perhaps it would
be of scientific interest.

 

You win, Gallega. It has
a scar behind the eye.

 

Did you hear?

 

How did you get in this mess, old lady?

 

What did you come back for?

 

I started reading
your book on the plane.

 

-Did you?
-I liked it.

 

-I like the girl's freedom.
-Really?

 

would you have liked to meet her?

 

You left a letter inside.

 

-Did you read it?
-Of course not.

 

I've read it a thousand times.

 

And instead of text for a book
of photos, I wrote something else.

 

I put myself in LoIa's place.
She wasn't afraid of anything.

 

But how do you know?

 

I know. I can imagine her.

 

I write about her as if I
was writing about myself.

 

And you haven't written
anything else until now?

 

No.

 

After publishing the
novel I got married...

 

and had a son.

 

-Do you have children?
-Yes.

 

A nine year old girl who lives
with her mother in Mexico.

 

And can you bear being away from her?

 

No.

 

Then you know how much it hurts.

 

You didn't really come to
write a book on whales, did you?

 

Didn't Matllde ever
mention a photographer?

 

Yes, the one who did the
photos for the scores.

 

I've got his photos, and the letter.

 

He wrote it to LoIa the day
before he died, in January '39.

 

-He never sent it?
-He was killed in the war.

 

But LoIa was dead already. I
came here to investigate that.

 

-What do you know about LoIa?
-Nothing.

 

Just what my grandfather told me.

 

That she went back to
Spain and became a star.

 

That's not true.

 

If LoIa worked for him,
there's no way he wouldn't see.

 

My grandfather was blind, Vera.

 

What you wrote is
related to these photos?

 

Did you already have them when
Matllde left you the photo?

 

They belong to a publishing house.

 

It's publishing a book of photos.
They want me to write the text.

 

Why didn't you tell me?

 

I don't know. I'm sorry.

 

I was about to return to Madrid, I
empty handed, as I'd found nothing,

 

I was operated on in Buenos
Aires and I met Matllde.

 

Chance, destiny, call it what you like.

 

I took you to her nursing
home. It wasn't destiny.

 

You screwed me and you
kept Matllde's stuff.

 

That's not chance.

 

Anyway, you were going
to throw everything out.

 

Hello!

 

What are you doing here?

 

Nothing, just passing by.

 

If you still have any complaints,
this is the editor of the book.

 

Jordi Ferr? He'll
take care of everything.

 

I forgot your name.

 

Ernesto Su?ez.

 

The grandson of the
guy who exploited LoIa.

 

-Who?
-LoIa, Jordi.

 

The one in the letter.

 

Hello, Ernesto.

 

-How did you find me?
-Where do you want me to start?

 

From where you betrayed me to Antonio.

 

After that I called Dr.
Zimmerman, I flew to Madrid,

 

from there to Buenos Aires,
went to the hospital to see him,

 

then to your hotel and you'd left.
A two hour flight to Puerto Madryn...

 

I searched for you at
every hotel in town...

 

I booked a room and
took a taxi to come here.

 

-What's the name of this place?
-Puerto Pir?ide.

 

That's it, and here I am.

 

100 kms in a taxi. I should be
in the Guinness Book of Records.

 

You saw my doctor,
Jordi. I can't believe it.

 

You're not even capable
of watering a plant.

 

It wasn't hard. I just
thought: What would Antonio do?

 

What would he ask? What
would Antonio do in my place?

 

Let them look after you, Vera.

 

You can't work this out on your own.

 

I got cancer on my own.

 

Antonio went to get the
tests you had in Madrid...

 

and your father contacted Dr. Zimmerman.

 

Anyway. I have the
results of the biopsy.

 

Give me that.

 

Shall we go out for a drink?

 

Shit. all I can think of
is getting drunk with you.

 

Give me one.

 

No, Vera.

 

Being healthy goes against my
principles, but don't ask me that.

 

It's not the only thing I'll ask of you.

 

Do you know when I last smoked?

 

The last time I had sex with you.

 

How long ago was that?

 

Years.

 

How many?

 

I don't know.

 

What are you doing?

 

Vera, I have presbyopia.

 

Did the doctor say you could do it?

 

I've done it already.

 

Shit, I'm never the first.

 

There's nothing like having
sex when you're tired.

 

-I haven't forgotten you.
-Shut up.

 

And this place suits you.

 

You look like a professional
fucking with your clothes on.

 

will you shut up?

 

We've certainly done
it in strange places...

 

but I don't recall having
done it in a whore house.

 

-What are you saying?
-The cab driver told me.

 

There were whores here.

 

Maybe in this very bed.

 

What did I say?

 

What's wrong?

 

Nothing.

 

PIBE PEDRO AND HIS TANGO QUARTET

 

I've heard about that
harpoon since I was a kid.

 

What did you hear?

 

It was pulled out of the whale
and given to my grandfather.

 

That's how it survived.

 

Sheer luck, wouldn't you say?

 

Do you know what, Gallega?

 

I don't believe in anything.

 

I'd like to.

 

To believe in God, be a football fan,
to have fought in the revolution...

 

But no, the few things
I believed in collapsed.

 

Now you tell me it's the
same whale, and so it is.

 

You have no idea how scared
I was of that harpoon.

 

What will you have?

 

A whisky.

 

No ice.

 

What did you go to pick
up at the nursing home?

 

Money. It has no value.

 

Just some old bills
MatiIde kept as a souvenir.

 

Is this what you're talking about?

 

Where did you get those?

 

Matllde asked me to scatter them
with her ashes when she died,

 

I don't know why.

 

Do you know what I think?

 

This was LoIa's price.

 

What do you know about that?

 

Emilio mentions this money in a letter.

 

He said he gave it to Matilde.

 

And apparently it's true.

 

You know what I mean?

 

I was a kid, I barely remember.

 

Do you remember the money?

 

LoIa!

 

I want to thank you...

 

for being with Matllde until the end.

 

My son told me she was fond of you.

 

Yes, it's true.

 

Let me introduce
myself. I am Pibe Pedro.

 

''Bandone?'' player. Future composer.

 

LoIa!

 

-Su?ez!
-Emllio?

 

It's been a long time. You
remembered your friends.

 

-I've got to talk to you.
-Coming.

 

What is it?

 

I've come to take LoIa away.

 

How do you plan to do that?
I won't just give her away.

 

And if this rat ever touches
her again, I'll kill her.

 

Who are you going to kill, you bastard!

 

You shut up, woman!

 

You're not taking her
away just like that.

 

If you want her...

 

Then don't come shouting
and bullying around here.

 

LoIa's not leaving here!

 

If you don't shut the fuck
up I'll sell you instead.

 

-Have you got the dough on you?
-Yes...

 

The 1,500 you gave me.

 

Tell me something. What
do you want her for?

 

I just want her. I don't know why.

 

What's it to you?

 

I just don't like cheating on anybody.

 

We have others in much better shape.

 

But whatever,

 

if you've set your heart on LoIa,

 

and if Matllde agrees...

 

Hey, girl?

 

You decide.

 

If you want her, she stays.

 

If you let her go, the money is yours.

 

Come on...

 

take it.

 

Hey, kid, kid...

 

LoIa's no longer what she used to be.

 

She's really gone downhill
since you sold her.

 

-You didn't tell her, right?
-No, I didn't tell her a thing.

 

-I'm telling you so that you know.
-I know.

 

I know what I've done.

 

No, I'm telling you so you
know what you're getting.

 

The other stuff is
your business, ass hole.

 

This place is charming, isn't it?

 

With a touch of nostalgia...

 

Admit you're smoking again.

 

Just buy your own and
kill yourself slowly.

 

You've known each other for a long time.

 

Vera was nineteen.

 

I was teaching on a summer
course and we got involved.

 

Then she started showing
me what she wrote.

 

And since I make a living out
of other people's talent...

 

And you'll publish what she's writing.

 

Well, I asked her to write
a text for a book of photos...

 

but now it seems she's
writing a novel, right?

 

What will be the title?

 

I've no idea. ''LoIa's Price''

 

or ''The Whore and the
Whale'', something like that.

 

To the new novel.

 

It'll sell much better
than the other one.

 

To LoIa and Emllio.

 

I'd give my soul to dance like her.

 

Because my body is already...

 

They want me to do some more tests.

 

Do you know what the sentry ganglion is?

 

The warning.

 

Those tests are to make sure
other parts of the body are fine.

 

I'm not a doctor, but I think
you should do as they say.

 

I think the old man wants to
dedicate the next one to you.

 

Two pesos for going to
bed, four for the night.

 

You don't get in here without paying.

 

Where's your token?

 

You don't get in here without paying.

 

You pretended you knew nothing,
as you didn't work here any more.

 

I said nothing, went and paid my token.

 

So you'd let me in.

 

At least... that night.
Even though it was the last.

 

The whales could be heard really close,

 

as if they were calling.

 

Sorry.

 

I just wanted to tell
you that the bar is closed

 

and I've found someone to
take me to Puerto Madryn.

 

Aren't you staying the night?

 

There's always a second chance, right?

 

Sometimes it helps to say goodbye.

 

But I'm too drunk. I'd
rather go to my hotel.

 

You won't even do me a favour?

 

You won't even try?

 

Let's pretend you're
a traveling salesman.

 

You come to my door...

 

and tell me you need to take a leak.

 

But you're not you. He's
a dirty old man, right?

 

-Even if he has your face.
-Vera, stop it.

 

If you want to fuck,
then fuck somebody else.

 

My flight leaves at nine.

 

If you want, you can still make it

 

to the appointment with Dr. Zimmerman.

 

I'll be at the airport.

 

Leave some money. I'm as
broke as a whore during Lent.

 

Yet again, you're giving
up without a fight, Jordi.

 

-You're still the same...
-The same what?

 

Do you know what's happened
to me all these years?

 

Nothing at all.

 

Sometimes I just want
to talk, shout out...

 

because you can't hear a
thing in those filthy bars.

 

And I hear myself saying
the same old things.

 

Only I'm older.

 

But you're lucky.

 

I hope I'd get to say the same one day.

 

You're going to bury us all.

 

You're no longer the girl I seduced.

 

You've turned into quite a woman.

 

Alright. Let me go.

 

Let me go.

 

I'm the same old guy I always was.

 

Take your clothes off.
We don't have all night.

 

We have a lifetime.

 

We'll leave tomorrow.

 

I just wanted to be with you.

 

Aren't you going to ask me what I want?

 

You want to leave, don't you?

 

Yes, but you haven't asked me.

 

please, forgive me. I'll
never forgive myself.

 

I've missed you. I've
had a terrible time here.

 

I, on the other hand,
had a wonderful time here.

 

-I needed to be alone.
-I needed to be alone.

 

But being alone in Tierra
deI Fuego is frightening.

 

You come to realize
what you really want.

 

You realize what you want.

 

And I want you, I want to be with you.

 

What do I care what happens to
you when you're far away from here?

 

What the hell do I
care what happens to you

 

when you're far away from here?

 

You just want what you don't have.

 

And you don't have the balls
to look after what you have.

 

And you don't have the balls
to look after what you have.

 

Look at yourself.

 

Now you're here and you
don't even want to do it.

 

What do you expect, when you
treat me the way a whore would.

 

That's what I am!

 

Thanks to you!

 

- I want to see them.
-What?

 

The 1,500 pesos I cost
you. I want to see them!

 

Matllde's got them.

 

I don't know what's worse,
buying me or selling me.

 

I don't know what's worse,
buying me or selling me.

 

You're still the same.

 

The same, what?

 

You're not a man...

 

You're not a man...

 

You don't know what you want.
At least I do as I please.

 

Sure, you do as you please.

 

Are we talking about my
pleasure or Suarez' pleasure?

 

You don't know who you are
unless someone is stroking you.

 

Shut up.

 

And with just a bit of
stroking, you spread your legs.

 

You think you do as you please

 

but you're just here for
other people's pleasure.

 

And that's being a whore, right?

 

And that's being a whore, right?

 

I'm not a whore because you sold me.

 

You sold me as a whore.

 

-I didn't say that.
-Don't you touch me!

 

Do you know what I wondered
when I was far away?

 

Who are you

 

when nobody's looking at you?

 

We're going to take Matllde out to sea.

 

Ernesto's asking if you
want to come with us.

 

-I got you out of bed.
-No way.

 

I was writing. I think I found it.

 

-Your novel?
-Yes.

 

And when your father
called at my door...

 

I thought he was going to
tell me the whale had gone.

 

Another hunch?

 

Or better still, that she'd gone again.

 

-Shall we go and see?
-Why not? We're going that way.

 

You slept a while,

 

and I stayed looking at you
for the rest of the night.

 

When Pibe Pedro knocked on he
door to take us to the plane,

 

you opened your eyes and looked
at me as if I were a stranger.

 

As dawn was breaking and we took off,

 

I could see the whale near the sandbar.

 

With the sure instinct of
animals, as if time didn't exist,

 

it headed for a specific
spot in the middle of the sea.

 

I'm worth more than 1,500 pesos.

 

Listen, you. Don't be stupid!

 

Don't mistake value for price.

 

I'm not free because they let me go.

 

I'm free because I was born that way.

 

Even though I've only been here

 

for other people's pleasure.
Isn't that right Suarez?

 

You really saw through me...

 

even if you're a blind bastard.

 

Beat it, girl.

 

-And now what?
-I told Seal to follow the whale.

 

You tell me where to stop...

 

And we'll throw the
ashes into the water,

 

alright?

 

I'll throw you in, if you
don't tell me the story.

 

I didn't even tell Suarez.

 

You're Suarez now.

 

You're no longer a boy,
pops. And me neither.

 

My old man never tells.

 

He's been like that all his life.

 

When my grandfather told his stories...

 

my dad would leave so as
not to have listen to them.

 

Do you feel okay, Gallega?

 

You shouldn't be doing this.

 

Take your clothes off,
so you don't get...

 

I can do as I please! Don't
treat me like I was ill.

 

But you are llI. I forget
too at times, but you're llI.

 

I'm okay.

 

I'm just a little dizzy.

 

It's not my fault.
Some things just happen.

 

Forgive me. I don't
know what I'm saying.

 

Say whatever you like...

 

but don't say you're sorry.

 

Today your father reminded me of mine.

 

all the things we never
said to each other.

 

all my life I've blamed
him for everything.

 

What you say is true.

 

Of course I'm ill.

 

It's a relief to hear you say it.

 

I don't know what you were like
before. But you're beautiful.

 

So you're leaving tomorrow morning.

 

I do as I please.

 

Like LoIa, she finally
finds out what she wants.

 

One day I'll find your
noveI in a bookstore,

 

and I'll know you're okay.

 

-will you buy it?
-Yes.

 

-And will you read it?
-Yes.

 

Then I'll write it.

 

Is it here?

 

The airstrip was over there.

 

They came this way...

 

and circled over the whales.

 

We stayed over there.

 

whales!

 

LoIa!

 

Give me your hand.

 

Give me your hand!

 

Gringo! LeveI the plane!

 

Gringo!

 

Level it, God damn it! LoIa!

 

Take a photo of me! Take a photo of me!

 

And then the plane
went on with its joumey.

 

And the Gringo...

 

never came back.

 

-Can you still see them?
-Yes...

 

They're making circles above the whales.

 

After some time Matllde
started telling me...

 

that I'd made all this up.

 

And that if I ever told Suarez...

 

She'd say I'm a liar.

 

And Suarez...

 

never found out.

 

I can hardly see what I'm writing.

 

Bullets are falling like shooting stars.

 

And I make the same
wishes as I always did.

 

Here, at war, while I
wait for my tum to come

 

I take pictures of death every day.

 

She's playing hard to get because
she knows I'm waiting for her.

 

Be patient.

 

I won't be long.