What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours



MONTSE FOUND WAYS to be the one to return Se?ora Lucy’s laundry to her; this sometimes meant undertaking several other deliveries so that her boss Se?ora Gaeta didn’t become suspicious. There was a workroom in Se?ora Lucy’s apartment; she often began work there and then had the canvases transported to her real studio. Thirty seconds in Se?ora Lucy’s apartment was long enough for Montse to get a good stare at all those beginnings of paintings. The Se?ora soon saw that Montse was curious about her work, and she took to leaving her studio door open while she etched on canvas. She’d call Montse to come and judge how well the picture was progressing. “Look here,” she’d say, indicating a faint shape in the corner of the frame. “Look here—” Her fingertips glided over a darkening of color in the distance. She sketched with an effort that strained every limb. Montse saw that the Se?ora sometimes grew short of breath though she’d hardly stirred. A consequence of snatching images out of the air—the air took something back.



MONTSE ASKED SE?ORA about the key around her neck. It wasn’t a real question, she was just talking so that she could stay a moment longer. But the Se?ora said she wore it because she was waiting for someone; at this Montse forgot herself and blurted: “You too?”

The Se?ora was amused. “Yes, me too. I suppose we’re all waiting for someone.” And she told Montse all about it as she poured coffee into vases for them both. (It was true! It was true!)



“TWO MOSTLY PENNILESS WOMEN met at a self-congratulation ritual in Seville,” that was how Se?ora Lucy began. The event was the five-year reunion of a graduating class of the University of Seville—neither woman had attended this university, but they blended in, and every other person they met claimed to remember them, and there was much exclamation on the theme of it being wonderful to see former classmates looking so well. The imposters had done their research and knew what to say, and what questions to ask. Their names were Safiye and Lucy, and you wouldn’t have guessed that either one was a pauper, since they’d spent most of the preceding afternoon liberating various items of priceless finery from their keepers.

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