It was nighttime, and as she walked, the light from the gas lamps stared at her, bewildered. She left the cobblestone streets behind, her steps erratic, but with a clear destination. The only place she knew that never rested, always with a tavern open: the Central Station.
The hiss of steam escaping from the arriving locomotives, the sound of clashing metal, and the chiming of the clock were comforting. She wandered through the maze of stairs until she found the bar. She entered and went straight to the vending machine. She put in a coin, turned the handle, activated lever 4 and 2, and then turned the handle again until her bottle appeared. She knocked the cap off against a metal edge and sat down at the first empty table she found.
Juan witnessed the whole scene, oblivious to the conversation his drinking companions were having: he saw the mysterious woman with a crooked hat come in, sit down with her beer and after a few drinks, take a large pocket watch out of her leather jacket, look at it and start crying.
When she finished that first beer, she went to the machine again, but this time, she pulled levers 1, 5, 2, turned the handle in the opposite direction, moved a couple more levers, and turned the handle again. She never put any money in, but she got a bottle that, after the first sip, she bathed in tears.
Curious, Juan decided to approach her. He noticed that the hands of the lady’s watch were not moving.
– Are you okay? Is your watch not working anymore? Worried about the time?
– No, this watch never told the time. I don’t care about time, it’s just an invention, to chain us to causality. But yes… my watch doesn’t work anymore… – and she burst into tears again.
Juan, confused, gave her timid pats on the shoulder, as a kind of clumsy consolation.
– This watch – she opened her eyes wide, with a sudden air of grandeur and satisfaction – perceived the communications of the wireless telegraph that passed nearby, trembled and began to read the signal. I could then look at it and read the Morse code. The train delays, the news from the countryside, the changes in the grain prices, arrest warrants from the police! All before it appears in any newspaper. I could watch it all day and feel the world flowing, with delays and unfiltered by the press. Now, I know nothing!
She continued to cry.
Disconcerting. But with all the inventions that were happening in those days, Juan didn’t find it strange. Before he could say anything, she continued.
-It took me months to build it. I’ve been trying to fix it for three days, I can’t sleep and… I don’t know when the trains are late! What if the price of maize goes down?
-But are you a trader? Do you travel by train a lot?
-No, never, I live five minutes from here. But now I don’t hear any news and this damn clock doesn’t even tell me the time.
-Look, you seem like a handy person, maybe you can fix that pianola and we’ll invite you to drink and eat without you having to steal it.
-Pianola! How horrible! Putting music to such complex mechanisms takes away the beauty of the machine, just as mechanizing music takes the spirit out of the music. It corrupts both the artificiality of the machine and the humanness of the music… No, no. Let me sit down and play the piano.
She walked over to the pianola, placed the beer bottle and watch on a table behind her. She took a screwdriver from inside her jacket, which she used on the front of the pianola mechanism. Then she gave it a strong blow, protected by her leather gloves. She tried the keyboard and, sure enough, managed to disconnect the mechanism. She immediately began to slowly play a tango.
Practically the entire bar watched the scene, amazed. Juan winked at Eduardo, who left his glass and left the place.
-Okay, now we’re ready. Do you know this one?
“Cara sucia, cara sucia, cara sucia” … She started playing one of the trendy spicy songs, which the people present were quick to sing out loud.
Eduardo came back with a bandoneon, put his foot on a chair and started to accompany the song. At the back of the place they moved tables away and two or three couples started to dance. The same songs played several times, but nobody cared. Even the chimes of the station clock tower seemed to synchronize with the dancers’ feet.
At the end of a song, they paused to take a drink.
-Eduardo, pleased to meet you, what’s your name?
-Ana Laura, nice to meet you- she said between gulps of beer.
-Listen, you look a little off, how about you choose a song for yourself to relax? Not for us. I’ll just follow along, don’t worry.
What the hell did it mean to relax? It must be some literary device of these bohemian poets of the city. However, she remembered an old song, without lyrics, and possibly without a name, that she heard from time to time in her neighborhood, before the sound of machines and skyscrapers flooded the city.
She began to play. Although the beginning was timid, little by little she took a soft, constant rhythm, on which she was able to develop the melody she remembered. After a couple of bars, the bandoneon understood. It followed the music and also responded. It began to ask and receive answers. They gathered in the roundabouts and separated to take turns leading the song, while the other kept the rhythm. A train was delayed, a criminal was arrested, the price of grain changed. But it no longer mattered. Ana was immersed in her phrasings, in the exchange, in the hammering of the strings, in the trembling of the air.
Around them, people had sat down and listened, caught up in this interplay between the bandoneon and the piano. At that moment, Juan saw Ana’s watch on the table and noticed that it was beginning to vibrate. Not just vibrate, but to jump little by little, to the rhythm of the piano. He waited several minutes and then pointed it out to Eduardo, who, without stopping playing, watched, amazed, the rhythmic jumps of the watch. He surreptitiously finished a musical phrase and stopped playing.
The piano continued to play, relaxed, constant, beautiful. Finally Ana followed everyone’s gaze, until she glanced at the table behind her. While she was playing, the watch jumped little by little, following its rhythm.
Suddenly she stopped playing. Her heart was pounding. The clock made four more jumps in the absolute silence of the room.
There was an electric spark and a screw flew out. The clock fell apart and as springs rolled out a small metal insect, made of tiny gears, stepped out, spread its copper wings and rose into the air.
Outside the midnight bell rang and a train whistled its departure. The small insect rose even higher and, flying over the amazed and unexpected audience, left through a window.
Ana Laura looked at Juan for five infinite seconds, with astonishment, sadness, and relief.
-Juan, nice to meet you- he said.
He opened a beer bottle and gave it to her.
Eduardo interrupted.
-Ana, the people in the back are asking, please, for any song to dance.
With her heart still beating confusedly, she took a long drink and began to play Don Juan.
Outside the station, hundreds of glowing insects danced around the street gas lamps.
