Free Swift as Desire by Laura Esquivel Page B

instant she lost her virginity, that meant a man’s penis was the most impure thing in the world. She couldn’t agree with that. For many years, the nuns at school had been teaching her that God had made man in his own image. Therefore, there couldn’t be a part of the human body that was impure, because each one was a divine creation. Besides, it seemed totally absurd to her to think that God had given men hands that weren’t supposed to caress, and women clitorises that weren’t meant to be touched. Of course, it never occurred to her to use this argument to convince her parents to let her marry Júbilo. But she used many others instead, until she managed to convincethem that she was totally captivated by Júbilo and that it would be much better to allow her to marry him, in spite of the fact that at twenty-two he couldn’t offer her a very promising future.
    Lucha had gotten her way, but now that she had obtained what she had so desired, she realized a lot of other things were missing. She had never expected that being married would be so difficult, nor what it meant to be married to a poor man. Her parents had warned her, but who listens to parental advice when one is in love? No one. The time she spent in bed with Júbilo was wonderful, but then Júbilo would go to work and leave her alone. As soon as he closed the door, the house would grow silent. The laughter left with him. Lucha had no one to talk to. She missed her family. She missed her friends. She missed the bustle of her parents’ house. She missed the shouts of the street vendors. She missed the whistle of the sweet potato vendor’s cart. She missed the singing of the canaries at home. She missed her Victrola. She missed her records. If only she had a radio, she wouldn’t feel so lonely. But she didn’t have one. And she didn’t see any possibility of acquiring one in the near future, since Júbilo saved every last centavo they had left over, in hopes of buying their own house some day.
    A deep melancholy gradually overcame Lucha. There was no one with whom she could discuss her worries. The month they spent in each tiny pueblo didn’t allow her enough time to establish the kind of friendship that would make her feel comfortable about confiding herproblems. In addition, she found that the people in the provinces were very cliquey and gossipy. She didn’t realize that her very appearance was enough to scandalize them. Her haircut and the way she dressed, which seemed copied from fashion magazines, never failed to raise whispers as she passed. Of course, people like to criticize anyone who appears different, so she was the perfect target. She was young, beautiful, dressed like a movie star, and drove her own automobile! How could she not attract attention? So Lucha felt isolated, and never more so than in Huichapan. The rain drove her into a deep gloom. She hated the absence of the sun. Her
mamá
had taught her as a young girl that the sun purified and bleached clothing. Lucha believed that its purifying power extended even further. She was convinced it also cleansed impurities of the soul. And in her house in Mexico City, well, her former house, her parents’ house, she had always been able to go into the garden and lie in the sun when she needed to drive away sadness.
    For a girl who grew up showered with indulgence and gratification, life with Júbilo was difficult to bear. Not because of any lack of love or attention from him, but because married life wasn’t what she had expected. Lucha had imagined that, like her mother, she would have servants who would take care of all the household chores so she could dedicate herself to playing the piano, entertaining her friends, and shopping. Her parents had raised her to be a princess. She had attended a school for young ladies where she learned to speak English andFrench. She knew how to play the piano, embroider, and set a proper table. She had taken courses in gourmet cooking. So she did know how to