I was asking myself, "Could this monster possibly be the father of Marina, my lovely, delightful, angelic Marina?" Suddenly I was sure that in her youth Señora Stella Maris had been unfaithful to her husband and that Marina was the fruit of an illicit love affair. Carried away by this idea, I found myself casting complicitous looks at Señora Stella Maris (fortunately, she didn't see them) as if to say I was in on her secret, but wasn't about to give her away. On the contrary, I approved wholeheartedly, and, in fact, would have forgiven anything rather than acknowledge this babbling monster as the father of my Marina.
A question aimed my way brought me back to the present. The conversation had sunk to a new low, with Señora Stella Maris holding forth energetically on the topic of illnesses--one she seemed right at home with.
"You're like a fish in water," remarked Señor Octavio.
Smiling proudly, she plunged ahead. Her résumé was impressive: operations, fractures, heart attacks, liver ailments, nervous breakdowns . . . . Being somewhat timid, I'd kept quiet up to now, but stung by a look from Marina, I humbly offered up the asthma attacks that plagued me from time to time.
"For asthma," said Señor Octavio, his voice bubbling over, "there's nothing better than the sea. The sea is far better than any of those worthless cures doctors prescribe, except, of course, for cod liver oil."
"Really, Octavio," retorted his wife, "you can't be serious. Remember that time in Mar del Plata, I caught a cold that lasted two months."
"Stop fishing for arguments," Señor Octavio insisted. "You caught that cold here, just a few kilometers from Buenos Aires, when we were going to Mar del Plata, not in Mar del Plata. There's nothing like the sea for one's health."
"Of course, of course," they said, we said, I said; "the coastal climate, the iodine, the sand . . . ."
"Nothing better than the sea," repeated Señor Octavio in a tone of unshakable authority. "Eight days at sea, and so long asthma! You won't even remember you had it."
"Sure, Daddy," agreed Marina, "you like the sea because you're an Aquarius, but there are people who feel out of place in . . . . Me, for example, even though I'm a Pisces . . . ."
"And my sign is Cancer," said Señora Stella Maris, "but I don't much like the sea, either."
"Well, as far as I'm concerned," Marina confessed, "it gives me the creeps."
"Eyewash," said Señor Octavio. "It's all a matter of getting the body to adapt. Once you get used to it, you'll see how the sea can soothe your nerves."
"Talk about nerves," interrupted Señora Stella Maris, "what a scare we had on that flight from Rio .