Online: The Silkworms

Trinity Journal of Literary Translation | 87

Online: The Silkworms

trans. Ursula Meany Scott

Despite it being forbidden, Claudia brought some silkworms home. She took them out of the glass jar where sooner or later they would run out of air and put them in a cardboard box that must have contained cds going by its shape, and which she found in the hall cupboard. She pierced holes in the lid with the tip of the kitchen scissors. And she hid the box in the toy basket, where her mother would never look.

Claudia’s mother said that animals were only beautiful when they were loose in the countryside. That cities were for people. But on many weekends when they still lived with Claudia’s father, she and her sister used to brought by their parents to the zoo. They were all happy: the family who posed in photos with balloons and candy-covered apples, and the animals who lived shut up in the enclosures.

That day, so that her mother wouldn’t suspect anything, Claudia behaved exceptionally well: she cleared up the kitchen, did her homework and helped bathe her little sister. She brushed her hair and put on her slippers for walking around the house even though they hurt her. To her mother this behaviour seemed normal and she didn’t offer any praise. Lately she was very distracted. She dropped cups when she was washing up, she left her glasses behind her all over the place and every time someone called on the telephone she asked Claudia to leave the kitchen and close the door behind her.

That same night, Claudia’s mother forgot to give her a kiss when she went to bed. She didn’t even switch on the hall light. All night long Claudia lay there frightened that something would climb out from under the bed.

Over the following days, Claudia made the most of the gap between the moment she arrived home from school and the time it took her mother to go and pick her sister up from the crèche to feed her worms a couple of mulberry leaves. Claudia had decided that the worms with the black stripes were the males and those with the plain white bodies were the females. What she liked best was running her finger over them because they were smooth. On the other hand, when she put them on her hand, they were more sticky. The worms’ legs were ribbed.

There were very few people in her class who had silkworms. She was very proud. Claudia was no longer the strange girl because she spent the day painting or because her parents didn’t sleep together. She was special because she could do something that the others weren’t allowed to do. The teacher had asked who could look after the silkworms

prohibido. La profesora había preguntado quién podía ocuparse de ellos mientras alzaba un bote de cristal por encima de su cabeza lleno de gusanos queparecían macarrones ondulantes. Y solo Claudia y otra niña habían levantado la mano.Al llegar el recreo se sentaba en un banco esperando que alguien viniera a preguntarle lo que hacían los gusanos: cómo comían, si dormían o si eran capaces de subirse por las paredes, por ejemplo; pero por ahora nadie se había acercado a ella. Sabía que era cuestión de tiempo. Sabía también que en cuanto los gusanos se convirtieran en mariposas, todas las niñas querrían que Claudia las describiera.

Los gusanos comían muchísimo, pero no hacían ruido. Se movían por la caja con rapidez y, a pesar de que Claudia no estuviera muy segura de dónde tenían los ojos, estaba convencida de que cuando ella se acercaba a la caja de cartón, los gusanos la miraban y la reconocían.

Claudia prefería la compañía de aquellos gusanos a la de su hermana. También prefería estar con sus juguetes y con la televisión. Era mejor incluso estar con su madre, aunque esta a veces le pidiera que por favor le dejara tranquila y que no le contara sus historias.

Los gusanos comían para ponerse gordos. A Claudia ya no le quedaba ninguna duda de que pronto se convertirían en mariposas. Los imaginaba volando por su habitación, posándose en la cara de su perro de peluche, en la lámpara y en el bote de los lápices de colores. Luego los imaginaba saliendo por la ventana, hacia el patio de vecinos, en una nube de mariposas de colores. Se elevarían por las paredes amarillentas llenas de manchas de humedades y de desconchones hacia el agujero del cielo.

La hermana pequeña estaba aprendiendo a comer cosas sólidas. A veces alguien llamaba por teléfono a la hora de cenar. Mientras la madre hablaba, Claudia vigilaba que la hermana pequeña se comiera la galleta y los pequeños trozos de jamón sin atragantarse. La hermana pequeña utilizaba el tenedor de plástico para golpearlo todo: el vaso con el agua, la trona y la cabeza de su hermana, pero jamás cogía con él la comida.

La hermana lo mordía todo. Le estaban saliendo los dientes.

Después de cenar, y antes de que su madre viniera a apagarle la luz, Claudia comprobaba que los gusanos estuvieran bien. Les pasaba el dedo por el lomo y luego los escondía de nuevo en el cesto de los juguetes.

Una mañana antes de que los gusanos se convirtieran en mariposas, su madre la despertó con sus chillidos. Claudia se levantó corriendo. Era de noche.

as she held up a glass container above her head full of the caterpillars that looked like squirming macaroni. And only Claudia and one other girl had raised their hands. When break time came she sat on a bench waiting for someone to come and ask her what the worms were doing: how they ate and whether they slept or were able to climb up the walls for example; but so far nobody had come near her. She knew it was just a matter of time. She also knew that as soon as the silkworms turned into butterflies, all the girls would want Claudia to describe them.

The silkworms ate an awful lot, but didn’t make any noise. They moved around the box rapidly and, despite the fact that Claudia wasn’t very sure where there eyes were, she was convinced that when they saw her approaching the cardboard box, the silkworms looked at her and recognised her.

Claudia preferred the company of those silkworms to that of her sister. She also preferred being with her toys and with the television. It was even preferable to be with her mother, although sometimes she would ask Claudia to please leave her in peace and not tell her her stories.

The silkworms ate to get fat. Claudia had no doubt they would turn into butterflies soon. She imagined them flying around her room, landing on her toy dog, on the light and in the box of colouring pencils. Then she imagined them flying out the window, towards the communal patio, a cloud of coloured butterflies. They would go up by the yellowy walls covered in damp stains and flaking paint toward the hole of the sky.

The little sister was learning to eat solids. Sometimes someone telephoned at dinner time. While her mother was talking, Claudia made sure that the little sister ate the biscuit and the little pieces of ham without choking. The little sister used the plastic fork to hit everything: the water glass, the high chair and her sister’s head, but never caught the food with it.

The sister bit everything. She had teeth coming up.

After dinner, and before her mother came to put out the light, Claudia made sure that the silkworms were alright. She ran her finger along their backs and then hid them once more in the toy basket.

One morning before the silkworms had turned into butterflies, she was woken up by her mother’s screams. Claudia got up running. It was night time.

She had trouble recognising what her mother was pointing out to her as she held the

Le costó reconocer aquello que su madre señalaba mientras sostenía a la hermana pequeña en sus brazos. – ¿Sabes lo que es? – le preguntó entre gritos.

Claudia odiaba que su madre chillara y se tapó los oídos. – Que si sabes lo que es.

Claudia negó con la cabeza.

Era mentira y mentir está muy mal. Claro que sabía lo que era: la mitad de uno de los cuerpos de sus gusanos en la cuna de su hermana.

– Yo no puedo seguir así – los gritos de su madre se habían convertido en llantos – , yo no puedo hacer esto sola.

La madre de Claudia obligó a su hermana a abrir la boca. La niña tenía ya cuatro dientes muy blancos y puntiagudos en una boca llena de encías sonrosadas y babosas. La madre de Claudia no encontró nada y se echó a llorar. Luego fue a la cocina para hablar por teléfono. Llevaba a la hermana pequeña en brazos, apoyada en la cadera. Claudia se acercó a la cuna para ver de cerca el resto de gusano. Era la mitad de atrás. De una hembra. Le faltaba la cabeza y los ojos. Y cuando pasó el dedo por encima, notó su piel suave ligeramente húmeda.

Claudia sabía que cuando su madre se ponía así era mejor no hacer ni decir nada, a pesar de que quería enterrar al gusano, o tirarlo al váter. En todo caso sacarlo de la cuna. Así que volvió a su habitación y se sentó en la cama. La madre al cabo de unos minutos se agachó frente a ella y sacó una maleta de debajo de la cama. A la madre no le daba miedo que allí hubiera monstruos. – Mete en ella todo lo que necesites para una semana – le dijo.

Con un nudo en la garganta, Claudia le preguntó. – ¿Me echas de casa?

Las lágrimas se le saltaban de los ojos. Se había prometido que ella era fuerte, que nunca más lloraría, pero aquella situación le parecía muy injusta. ¡Había sido su hermana quien se había comido su gusano! – Os voy a mandar a las dos a casa de la abuela. Yo necesito descansar.

little sister in her arms.

‘Do you know what that is?’ she asked Claudia between shouts. Claudia hated when her mother screamed and covered her ears.

‘Of course you know what it is.’ Claudia shook her head.

It was a lie and lying was very bad. Of course she knew what it was: half of one of the silkworm’s bodies in her sister’s crib.

‘I can’t go on like this,’ her mother’s screaming had turned into tears, ‘I can’t do this on my own.’

Claudia’s mother made her sister open her mouth. The little girl had four very white and pointy teeth already in a mouth full of pink slobbery gums. Claudia’s mother found nothing inside and burst into tears. Then she went into the kitchen to use the phone. She lifted the little sister in her arms, resting her on her hip. Claudia moved closer to the crib to see close up what remained of the silkworm. It was the back end. Of a female. It was missing a head and the eyes. And when she ran her finger over it, she noticed its smooth skin was slightly damp.

Claudia knew that when her mother was like this it was better not to do or say anything, even though she wanted to bury the silkworm, or throw it down the toilet. In any case to take it out of the crib. So she went back to her room and sat on the bed. After a few minutes her mother knelt in front of her and took out a suitcase from under the bed. Her mother was not afraid of monsters under there.

‘Put everything you need for a week in here,’ she said.

With a lump in her throat, Claudia asked her, ‘Are you throwing me out of the house?’

Her eyes filled with tears. She had promised herself she was strong, that she’d never cry again, but this situation seemed very unfair to her, it was her sister who had eaten her silkworm!

‘I’m sending the two of you to your grandmother’s house. I need to rest.’

The grandmother gave them cupcakes for breakfast. And milk that always tasted sour. Claudia was sleeping in her dead uncle’s bedroom. On the walls were posters of aeroplanes and the wardrobes were full of clothes. One day Claudia started drawing with

rancio. Claudia dormía en la habitación del tío muerto. En las paredes había pósteres de aviones y los armarios estaban llenos de ropa. Un día Claudia comenzó a pintar con los lápices que había en un bote encima de la mesa de estudio y la abuela entró echando escupitajos por la boca y le dijo que nunca, nunca, nunca se atreviera a tocar nada de esa habitación. A Claudia le dio mucho miedo. Su abuela era como un monstruo que podía matarla. Por eso Claudia dormía muy quieta en la cama y apenas probaba las magdalenas del desayuno: por si acaso las sábanas y los bollos tenían un dueño muerto o desaparecido.

El primer día la abuela le había dicho que ya era muy mayor para bañarse y que a partir de ese día tendría que ducharse ella sola. Sentada en el váter, Claudia se ponía el pijama y luego cenaba con el bebé y su abuela delante del televisor. La abuela siempre preparaba tortilla francesa por la noche, pero luego, cuando llamaba su madre, le obligaba a decir a Claudia que habían comido judías o pollo o un filete.

La madre le preguntaba: ¿estás bien?

Y ella siempre decía que sí.

A la hora de dormir, Claudia cerraba la puerta, apagaba la luz y se escondía debajo de las sábanas.

La abuela no se duchaba y no comía casi nada. Sólo salía de casa para llevar a Claudia al colegio o para ir a misa. Los domingos la obligaba a ponerse el vestido que le picaba en el cuello y luego, a la entrada de la iglesia, le presentaba a todas sus amigas. Todas la besaban y le estiraban de los mofletes. Le decían que era una niña muy guapa y muy obediente. Las amigas de su abuela olían como su abuela. A sucio, a tortilla, a pis de gato. Pero esa era otra de las cosas de las que no se podía hablar con su madre: del olor de la abuela.

En la iglesia debían estar muy calladas y quietas. Su abuela le dijo a Claudia que pidiera a Dios que ayudara a su madre. Que pidiera también por su tío, para que fuera al cielo. Claudia prefería pedir por sus gusanos de seda, para que se convirtieran en mariposas y volaran muy lejos de allí.

La otra niña ya había tenido mariposas. Un día se había levantado y su cuarto estaba lleno. Les había dicho a todas que eran preciosas, de colores: rojo, azul y verde y que cuando volaban eran como pequeños arco iris.

Todos los niños de la clase se reunían en torno a la otra niña para que les hablara de sus mariposas. Y Claudia la observaba desde lejos, odiando a su madre y a su abuela y a su hermana. Pero sobre todo a aquella niña que podía tenerlo todo mientras ella no

the pencils from a box on top of the desk and the grandmother came in spitting at her to never, never, never dare touch anything from that room. She really frightened Claudia. Her grandmother was like a monster who could kill her. So Claudia would lie very still in the bed and barely taste the breakfast cupcakes, in case the sheets and the buns had a dead owner or lost soul.

On the first day the grandmother had told her that she was much too big at this stage to have baths and that from that day on she had to shower by herself. Sitting in the bathroom, Claudia put her pyjamas on by herself and afterwards ate her dinner with the baby and her grandmother in front of the television. The grandmother always made French omelette at night, but later, when she called her mother, she made Claudia say that they had eaten green beans or chicken or a steak.

The mother asked her, ‘Are you well?’ And she always said yes.

At bedtime, Claudia closed the door, turned out the light and hid beneath the bedclothes.

The grandmother didn’t wash and ate barely anything. She only left the house to bring Claudia to school or to go to mass. On Sundays she made her put on the dress that scratched her neck and afterwards, at the entrance to the church, presented her to all her friends. They all kissed her and pinched her chubby cheeks. They told her she was a very pretty and obedient little girl. Her grandmother’s friends smelled like her grandmother. Of dirt, omelette, cat’s piss. But this was another thing she couldn’t talk about with her mother: the grandmother’s smell.

At church they had to keep very quiet and still. Her grandmother told her that Claudia should ask God to help her mother. That she should also pray for her uncle, so that he would go to heaven. Claudia preferred to pray for her silkworms to turn into butterflies and fly far away.

The other little girl had already got butterflies. One day she had woken up and her room was filled with them. She had told them that they were all beautiful, coloured red, blue and green, and that when they flew, they were like little rainbows.

All the children in the class joined the other girl in turn to hear about her butterflies. And Claudia watched them from a distance, hating her mother and her grandmother and her sister. But above all hating that little girl who could have everything while she had nothing.

tenía nada.

A escondidas, Claudia pintó con los lápices de su tío muerto una mariposa amarilla y morada en un folio que escondió debajo de la almohada. Cuando estaba triste o se sentía sola, Claudia sacaba el dibujo y lloraba. Era una mariposa muy bonita, pero le ponía triste. Un día la abuela descubrió el dibujo y lo tiró a la basura sin decirle nada. Claudia quiso contárselo a su madre, pero la abuela le dijo que ya era la hora de colgar.

Así que cuando su madre le preguntó que si estaba bien, ella contestó que sí.

Esa noche la abuela le castigó sin tortilla y sin ver la televisión. Así aprendería. Claudia no volvió a tocar las cosas del tío muerto.

A veces, en el colegio, alguien se acordaba y le preguntaba por sus gusanos, Claudia decía que estaban creciendo, que cada día eran más grandes, que tenían ya el tamaño de su brazo, que la reconocían, que respondían a su nombre y que todas las noches dormía abrazada a ellos.

Un día una de las niñas le dijo que era una mentirosa y Claudia le dio un mordisco. La tutora de Claudia llamó a su madre y durante más de media hora se encerraron en un despacho. Cuando la madre de Claudia salió de él, tenía los ojos llorosos. Se la llevó a merendar y le dijo que podía pedir lo que quisiera. – ¿Estás enfadada?

La madre le dio un beso en el pelo.

– Claro que no, mi vida. Ha sido por mi culpa.

Claudia pidió tortitas con nata y la madre ya no añadió nada más. – ¿Puedo volver a casa? – No, mi vida. Ahora te voy a llevar de vuelta a casa de la abuela y vas a ser muy buena.

La abuela le dijo que era una niña muy mala, que las niñas que muerden se van al infierno y la castigó sin cena y sin ducha. Al día siguiente, al llegar a clase, Claudia le dijo a todo el mundo que los gusanos se habían muerto y que ella, su hermana y su madre habían ido al parque a enterrarlos. Su madre los había envuelto en trapos de cocina y jnntas habían escarbado un agujero en la arena. Luego su madre había puesto nnas cruces que había hecho con palillos y jnntas habían rezado una oración preciosa.

In secret, Claudia drew a yellow and purple butterfly with her uncle’s pencils on a page she hid under her pillow. When she was sad or felt lonely, Claudia would take out the drawing and cry. It was a very pretty butterfly, but it made her sad. One day the grandmother found the drawing and threw it in the bin saying nothing. Claudia wanted to tell her mother about it, but the grandmother told her it was time to hang up already.

So when her mother asked her if she was well, she answered yes.

That night the grandmother punished her by not giving her any omelette and not allowing her to watch television. That way she would learn. Claudia didn’t touch her dead uncle’s things again.

Sometimes, in school, someone would remember and ask her about the silkworms. Claudia told them that they were growing, that every day they were bigger, that they were the length of her arm now, that they recognised her, that they responded to their names and that every night she went to sleep hugging them.

One day one of the little girls told her she was a liar and Claudia bit her. Claudia’s tutor called her mother and for more than half an hour they were shut up together in the office. When her mother came out, she had tears in her eyes. She brought her for a treat and told her she could pick anything she liked.

‘Are you mad?’ The mother kissed her hair.

‘Of course not, sweetheart. It was my fault.’

Claudia asked for pancakes with cream and her mother didn’t say anything more.

‘Can I come home?’

‘No, love. I’m going to take you back to your grandmother’s house now and you’ll be fine.’

The grandmother told her she was a very bad little girl, that little girls who bit people went to hell and she punished her with no dinner and no shower. The following day, when she arrived into class, Claudia told everyone that the silkworms were dead and that she, her sister and her mother had gone to the park to bury them. Her mother had wrapped them in tea towels and together they had dug a hole in the sand. Then her mother had planted some crosses she’d made with matchsticks on top and together they had a said a lovely prayer.

Pero eran pocas las niñas que la escuchaban. Ese día Claudia no jugó con ninguna en el patio. Se sentó en el poyete de ladrillo que rodeaba las esmirriadas plantas que las monjas cultivaban para que en la foto de fin de curso el colegio pareciera muy antiguo, muy frondoso y muy elitista. Nadie se acercó a ella tampoco. Nadie le pidió que compartiera su merienda o que le contara otra vez la historia de los gusanos.

Durante el resto de la semana sucedió lo mismo: Claudia se sentaba en el muro de ladrillo y veía cómo sus compañeras de clase jugaban a juegos pacíficos, a juegos de señoritas.

La profesora la puso en la primera fila. No le dijo nada pero ella sabía que era para tenerla controlada. Era una niña agresiva a la que había que vigilar. El viernes, a lasalida del colegio, la abuela la esperaba con su hermana en brazos.

– Vamos – le dijo. – ¿Adónde vamos, abuela? – A la iglesia.

Claudia todavía no había hecho la primera comunión, tampoco se había confesado nunca. Pero su abuela le dijo que por un pecado tan grandísimo como es el pegar a una amiguita hay que pedirle perdón a Dios.

Su abuela se había puesto el vestido del domingo y el maquillaje que se salía de los labios.

La iglesia, sin todas las amigas de su abuela, con sus estolas peludas y sus abrigos de colores, parecía un lugar tétrico. En las dos capillas laterales, humeaban velas finas como huesos. Las caras de los santos y las vírgenes tenían ojos acuosos y las manos llenas de sangre.

La abuela dejó a la hermana pequeña en un banco de madera frente a la sacristía y cogió a Claudia por un brazo. La obligó a arrodillarse y ella se puso detrás. – Ave María purísima. – Sin pecado concebida – contestó su abuela. – En qué puedo ayudarte hija. – Mi nieta está en pecado mortal y me gustaría que la confesara. – ¿Y qué ha hecho su nieta? – Ha mordido a una niña.

But very few of the girls listened to her. That day Claudia didn’t play with anyone in the yard. She sat in the brick ledge that circled the scrawny plants the nuns grew so that in the end of term photograph the school would look very old-fashioned, very leafy and very elitist. Nobody came near her either. Nobody asked her to share her lunch or tell them the story about the silkworms again.

For the rest of the week the same thing happened: Claudia sat on the brick wall and saw how her classmates played quiet games, games for young ladies.

The teacher put her in the front row. She didn’t say anything to her, but Claudia knew it was so that she could keep an eye on her. She was an aggressive child who needed watching. On Friday, when she came out of school, the grandmother was waiting for her with her sister in her arms.

‘Come on,’ she said.

‘Where are we going, granny?’

‘To church.’

Claudia still hadn’t made her first communion, so she had never confessed before. But her grandmother told her that for a sin so huge as hurting a little friend she had to ask God’s forgiveness.

Her grandmother had put on her Sunday clothes and the make-up that smeared out over her lips

In the absence of her grandmother’s friends with their furry shawls and coloured overcoats, the church seemed a dismal place. In the two side chapels, there were tall candles as thin as bones burning. The faces of the saints and the virgins had watery eyes and hands covered in blood.

The grandmother left the little sister on a wooden bench facing the sacristy and grabbed Claudia by an arm. She made her kneel down and stood behind her.

‘Hail Mary most pure.’ ‘Conceived without sin,’ her grandmother responded. ‘How may I help you, daughter?’ ‘My granddaughter is in mortal sin and I’d like her to confess.’ ‘And what did your granddaughter do?’ ‘She bit a little girl.’

El sacerdote se calló. La abuela puso sus manos sobre los hombros de Claudia. Para que no se moviera. – ¿Es verdad eso? – Sí – contestó ella. – Eso está muy feo. Por cosas como estas te puedes ir al infierno. ¿Estás arrepentida? – Sí – mintió ella. – Eso es lo importante. Dios siempre perdona a la gente que le pide perdón con humildad. Pídele perdón con humildad. – Perdón.

La abuela, a la salida de la iglesia, le dio un abrazo y un beso que le dejó la mejilla húmeda. Claudia se limpió disimuladamente. – Te voy a llevar a merendar.

La abuela se estaba terminando el café cuando se dio cuenta de que se había dejado a la hermana pequeña olvidada en la iglesia. Se puso como loca. No dejó que Claudia se acabara su sándwich. Lloraba, le gritaba, le decía que era su hermana, que era su responsabilidad y que debería habérselo recordado.

Afortunadamente el sacerdote había encontrado al bebé llorando y se lo había llevado a la sacristía. Hacía poco tiempo que habían quitado el portal de belén y la cuna del niño Jesús estaba todavía allí, esperando que las monjas la guardaran en el altillo. Había metido a la hermana entre la paja de plástico y el muñeco de porcelana, con los dedos en forma de uve, lo había dejado sobre una mesa cubierta con un mantel blanco. La abuela se postró ante la niña y entre lágrimas decía: mi niña, mi niña. El sacerdote intentó tranquilizarla: no se preocupe, esto le puede suceder a cualquiera. La hermana pequeña reía mientras se llevaba pajas de plástico a su boca y las masticaba con sus encías casi sin dientes.

A pesar de que la abuela le prohibiera contarle nada de aquel episodio a su madre, al final esta se enteró. Ese mismo día recogió a sus hijas y se las llevó a casa.

La madre de Claudia tenía muy mal aspecto y olía a sudor. En la casa todo estaba desordenado y sucio: el lavabo lleno de pelos y por el pasillo rodaban las pelusas. Afortunadamente, el cuarto de Claudia estaba tal y como lo había dejado.

The priest went quiet. The grandmother put her hands on Claudia’s shoulders. So she wouldn’t move.

‘Is this true?’

‘Yes,’ she answered.

‘This is very bad. You can go to hell for something like that. Are you sorry?’

‘Yes,’ she lied.

‘That’s the important thing. God always pardons those who ask forgiveness with humility.’

‘Forgive me.’

On her way out of the church, the grandmother hugged her and gave her a kiss that left her cheek wet. Claudia cleaned it covertly.

‘I’m going to bring you for a treat.’

The grandmother was finishing her coffee when she realised that she’d left the little sister behind in the church. She went crazy. She didn’t let Claudia finish her sandwich. She was crying, shouting, telling her that she was her sister, that she was her responsibility and she should have remembered her.

Thankfully the priest had found the baby crying and brought her into the sacristy. It wasn’t long since they’d taken out the nativity scene and baby Jesus’s crib was still there, waiting for the nuns to stow it away in the attic. He had put the sister between the plastic hay and the china figure with its v-shaped fingers and left the crib on a table spread with a white tablecloth. The grandmother fell to her knees before the child and between cries said: my child, my child. The priest tried to calm her down: don’t worry, this could happen to anyone. The little sister was laughing while she picked up the plastic hay, put it in her mouth and chewed it with her almost tooth-free gums.

Despite the fact the grandmother had forbade her from telling her mother anything about the incident, in the end she found out. That same day she collected her daughters and brought them home.

Claudia’s mother looked very bad and smelled dirty. The house was a total mess and filthy: the bathroom full of hairs and dust rolling around in the hall. Thankfully Claudia’s bedroom was as she had left it.

La madre llenó la bañera y comenzó a bañar a la hermana pequeña. A Claudia le pareció extraño que hiciera eso cuando la que olía mal no era el bebé, pero no dijo nada. Temía que si comentaba cualquier cosa volvería a mandarla a casa de la abuela.

Como sabía que su madre estaba ocupada, fue a la habitación y abrió la caja de los gusanos. Estaba llena de pequeños cuerpos de gusano negros, como los restos que dejaba su goma de borrar sobre el cuaderno de ejercicios. Huevos rotos. Había también unas mariposas blancas muy feas y muy pequeñas, también muertas y que en nada se parecían a las que ella había dibujado.

The mother filled the bath and began washing the little sister. To Claudia it seemed strange she was doing that when the baby wasn’t the one who smelled bad, but she didn’t say anything. She was afraid that if she mentioned anything she would be sent back to the grandmother’s house again.

As she knew her mother was busy, she went into the bedroom. It was full of little black silkworm bodies, like the marks left by her rubber on her workbook. Broken eggs. There were also some very ugly and very small white butterflies, dead too and not resembling the ones she had drawn in the slightest.

Featured Translator: Finn O’Connor

Michelangelo 21

Chiunche nasce a morte arriva nel fuggir del tempo; e ‘l sole niuna cosa lascia viva. Manca il dolce e quel che dole e gl’ingegni e le parole; e le nostre antiche prole al sole ombre, al vento un fummo. Come voi uomini fummo, lieti e tristi, come siete; e or siàn, come vedete, terra al sol, di vita priva. Ogni cosa a morte arriva Già fur gli occhi nostri interi con la luce in ogni speco; or son voti, orrendi e neri, e ciò porta il tempo seco.