ng of her legs； the deformation of her former lovemaking weasel’s body had changed Amaranta ？rsula from the youthful creature she had been when she arrived at the house with the cage of luckless canaries and her captive husband； but it did not change the vivacity of her spirit。 “Shit；？she would say； laughingly。 “Who would have thought that we really would end up living like cannibals！？The last thread that joined them to the world was broken on the sixth month of pregnancy when they received a letter that obviously was not from the wise Catalonian。 It had been mailed in Barcelona； but the envelope was addressed in conventional blue ink by an official hand and it had the innocent and impersonal look of hostile messages。 Aureliano snatched it out of Amaranta ？rsula’s hands as she was about to open it。
“Not this one；？he told her。 “I don’t want to know what it says。？
Just as he had sensed； the wise Catalonian did not write again。 The stranger’s letter； which no one read； was left to the mercy of the moths on the shelf where Fernanda had forgotten her wedding ring on occasion and there it remained； consuming itself in the inner fire of its bad news as the solitary lovers sailed against the tide of those days of the last stages； those impenitent and ill…fated times which were squandered on the useless effort of making them drift toward the desert of disenchantment and oblivion。 Aware of that menace； Aureliano and Amaranta ？rsula spent the hot months holding hands； ending with the love of loyalty for the child who had his beginning in the madness of fornication。 At night； holding each other in bed； they were not frightened by the sublunary explosions of the ants or the noise of the moths or the constant and clean whistle of the growth of the weeds in the neighboring rooms。 Many times they were awakened by the traffic of the dead。 They could hear ？rsula fighting against the laws of creation to maintain the line； and Jos？Arcadio Buendía searching for the mythical truth of the great inventions； and Fernanda praying； and Colonel Aureliano Buendía stupefying himself with the deception of war and the little gold fishes； and Aureliano Segundo dying of solitude in the turmoil of his debauches； and then they learned that dominant obsessions can prevail against death and they were happy again with the certainty that they would go on loving each other in their shape as apparitions long after other species of future animals would steal from the insects the paradise of misery that the insects were finally stealing from man。
One Sunday； at six in the afternoon； Amaranta ？rsula felt the pangs of childbirth。 The smiling mistress of the little girls who went to bed because of hunger had her get onto the dining…room table； straddled her stomach； and mistreated her with wild gallops until her cries were drowned out by the bellows of a formidable male child。 Through her tears Amaranta ？rsula could see that he was one of those great Buendías； strong and willful like the Jos？Arcadios； with the open and clairvoyant eyes of the Aurelianos； and predisposed to begin the race again from the beginning and cleanse it of its pernicious vices and solitary calling； for he was the only one in a century who had been engendered with love。
“He’s a real cannibal。？she said。 “We’ll name him Rodrigo。？
“No；？her husband countered。 “We’ll name him Aureliano and he’ll win thirty…two wars。？
After cutting the umbilical cord； the midwife began to use a cloth to take off the blue grease that covered his body as Aureliano held up a lamp。 Only when they turned him on his stomach did they see that he had something more than other men； and they leaned over to examine him。 It was the tail of a pig。
They were not alarmed。 Aureliano and Amaranta ？rsula were not aware of the family precedent； nor did they remember ？rsula’s frightening admonitions； and the midwife pacified them with the idea that the tail could be cut off when the child got his second teeth。 Then they had no time to think about it again； because Amaranta ？rsula was bleeding in an uncontainable torrent。 They tried to help her with applications of spider webs and balls of ash； but it was like trying to hold back a spring with one’s hands。 During the first hours she tried to maintain her good humor。 She took the frightened Aureliano by the hand and begged him not to worry； because people like her were not made to die against their will； and she exploded with laughter at the ferocious remedies of the midwife。 But as Aureliano’s hope abandoned him she was being less visible； as if the light on her were fading away； until she sank into drowsiness。 At dawn on Monday they brought a woman who recited cauterizing prayers that were infallible for man and beast beside her bed； but Amaranta ？rsula’s passionate blood was insensible to any artifice that did not e from love。 In the afternoon； after twenty…four hours of desperation； they knew that she was dead because the flow had stopped without remedies and her profile became sharp and the blotches on her face evaporated in a halo of alabaster and she smiled again。
Aureliano did not understand until then how much he loved his friends； how much he missed them； and how much he would have given to be with them at that moment。 He put the child in the basket that his mother had prepared for him； covered the face of the corpse with a blanket； and wandered aimlessly through the town； searching for an entrance that went back to the past。 He knocked at the door of the pharmacy； where he had not visited lately； and he found a carpenter shop。 The old woman who opened the door with a lamp in her hand took pity on his delirium and insisted that； no； there had never been a pharmacy there； nor had she ever known a woman with a thin neck and sleepy eyes named Mercedes。 He wept； leaning his brow against the door of the wise Catalonian’s former bookstore； conscious that he was paying with his tardy sobs for a death that he had refused to weep for on time so as not to break the spell of love。 He smashed his fists against the cement wall of The Golden Child； calling for Pilar Ternera； indifferent to the luminous orange disks that were crossing the sky and that so many times on holiday nights he had contemplated with childish fascination from the courtyard of the curlews。 In the last open salon of the tumbledown red…light district an accordion group was playing the songs of Rafael Escalona； the bishop’s nephew； heir to the secrets of Francisco the Man。 The bartender； who had a withered and somewhat crumpled arm because he had raised it against his mother； invited Aureliano to have a bottle of cane liquor； and Aureliano then bought him one。 The bartender spoke to him about the misfortune of his arm。 Aureliano spoke to him about the misfortune of his heart； withered and somewhat crumpled for having been raised against his sister。 They ended up weeping together and Aureliano felt for a moment that the pain was over。 But when he was alone again in the last dawn of Macondo； he opened up his arms in the middle of the square； ready to wake up the whole world； and he shouted with all his might：
“Friends are a bunch of bastards！？
Nigromanta rescued him from a pool of vomit and tears。 She took him to her room； cleaned him up； made him drink a cup of broth。 Thinking that it would console him； she took a piece of charcoal and erased the innumerable loves that he still owed her for； and she voluntarily brought up her own most solitary sadnesses so as not to leave him alone in his weeping。 When he awoke； after a dull and brief sleep； Aureliano recovered the awareness of his headache。 He opened his eyes and remembered the child。
He could not find the basket。 At first he felt an outburst of joy； thinking that Amaranta ？rsula had awakened from death to take care of the child。 But her corpse was a pile of stones under the blanket。 Aware that when he arrived he had found the …door to the bedroom open； Aureliano went across the porch which was saturated with the morning sighs of oregano and looked into the dining room； where the remnants of the birth still lay： the large pot； the bloody sheets； the jars of ashes； and the twisted umbilical cord of the child on an opened diaper on the table next to the shears and the fishline。 The idea that the midwife had returned for the child during the night gave him a pause of rest in which to think。 He sank into the rocking chair； the same one in which Rebeca had sat during the early days of the house to give embroidery lessons； and in which Amaranta had played Chinese checkers with Colonel Gerineldo Márquez； and in which Amaranta ？rsula had sewn the tiny clothing for the child； and in that flash of lucidity he became aware that he was unable to bear in his soul the crushing weight of so much past。 Wounded by the fatal lances of his own nostalgia and that of others； he admired the persistence of the spider webs on the dead rose bushes； the perseverance of the rye grass； the patience of the air in the radiant February dawn。 And then he saw the child。 It was a dry and bloated bag of skin that all the ants in the world were dragging toward their holes along the stone path in the garden。 Aureliano could not move。 Not because he was paral