e her raised hand of an archangelic messenger was moving with the swaying of the cart。
“Good…bye； Gerineldo； my son；？she shouted。 “Say hello to my people and tell them I’ll see them when it stops raining。？
Aureliano Segundo helped her back to bed and with the same informality with which he always treated her； he asked her the meaning of her farewell。
“It’s true；？she said。 “I’m only waiting for the rain to stop in order to die。？
The condition of the streets alarmed Aureliano Segundo。 He finally became worried about the state of his animals and he threw an oilcloth over his head and sent to Petra Cotes’s house。 He found her in the courtyard； in the water up to her waist； trying to float the corpse of a horse。 Aureliano Segundo helped her with a lever； and the enormous swollen body gave a turn like a bell and was dragged away by the torrent of liquid mud。 Since the rain began； all that Petra Cotes had done was to clear her courtyard of dead animals。 During the first weeks she sent messages to Aureliano Segundo for him to take urgent measures and he had answered that there was no rush； that the situation was not alarming； that there would be plenty of time to think about something when it cleared。 She sent him word that the horse pastures were being flooded； that the cattle were fleeing to high ground； where there was nothing to eat and where they were at the mercy of jaguars and sickness。 “There’s nothing to be done；？Aureliano Segundo answered her。 “Others will be born when it clears。？Petra Cates had seen them die in dusters and the was able to butcher only those stuck in the mud。 She saw with quiet impotence how the deluge was pitilessly exterminating a fortune that at one time was considered the largest and most solid in Macondo； and of which nothing remained but pestilence。 When Aureliano Segundo decided to go see what was going on； he found only the corpse of the horse and a squalid mule in the ruins of the stable。 Petra Cotes watched him arrive without surprise； joy； or resentment； and she only allowed herself an ironic smile。
“It’s about time！？she said。
She had aged； all skin and bones； and her tapered eyes of a carnivorous animal had bee sad and tame from looking at the rain so much。 Aureliano Segundo stayed at her house more than three months； not because he felt better there than in that of his family； but because he needed all that time to make the decision to throw the piece of oilcloth back over his head。 “There’s no rush；？he said； as he had said in the other home。 “Let’s hope that it clears in the next few hours。？During the course of the first week he became accustomed to the inroads that time and the rain had made in the health of his concubine； and little by little he was seeing her as she had been before； remembering her jubilant excesses and the delirious fertility that her love provoked in the animals； and partly through love； partly through interest； one night during the second week he awoke her with urgent caresses。 Petra Cotes did not react。 “Go back to sleep；？she murmured。 “These aren’t times for things like that。？Aureliano Segundo saw himself in the mirrors on the ceiling； saw Petra Cotes’s spinal column like a row of spools strung together along a cluster of withered nerves； and he saw that she was right； not because of the times but because of themselves； who were no longer up to those things。
Aureliano Segundo returned home with his trunks； convinced that not only ？rsula but all the inhabitants of Macondo were waiting for it to dear in order to die。 He had seen them as he passed by； sitting in their parlors with an absorbed look and folded arms； feeling unbroken time pass； relentless times； because it was useless to divide it into months and years； and the days into hours； when one could do nothing but contemplate the rain。 The children greeted Aureliano Segundo with excitement because he was playing the asthmatic accordion for them again。 But the concerts did not attract their attention as much as the sessions with the encyclopedia； and once more they got together in Meme’s room； where Aureliano Segundo’s imagination changed a dirigible into a flying elephant who was looking for a place to sleep among the clouds。 On one occasion he came across a man on horseback who in spite of his strange outfit had a familiar look； and after examining him closely he came to the conclusion that it was a picture of Colonel Aureliano Buendía。 He showed it to Fernanda and she also admitted the resemblance of the horseman not only to the colonel but to everybody in the family； although he was actually a Tartar warrior。 Time passed in that way with the Colossus of Rhodes and snake charmers until his wife told him that there were only three pounds of dried meat and a sack of rice left in the pantry。
And what do you want me to do about it？？he asked。
“I don’t know；？Fernanda answered。 “That’s men’s business。？
“Well；？Aureliano Segundo said； “something will be done when it clears。？
He was more interested in the encyclopedia than In the domestic problem； even when he had to content himself with a scrap of meat and a little rice for lunch。 “It’s impossible to do anything now；？he would say。 “It can’t rain for the rest of our lives。？And while the urgencies of the pantry grew greater； Fernanda’s indignation also grew； until her eventual protests； her infrequent outbursts came forth in an uncontained； unchained torrent that begin one morning like the monotonous drone of a guitar and as the day advanced rose in pitch； richer and more splendid。 Aureliano Segundo was not aware of the singsong until the following day after breakfast when he felt himself being bothered by a buzzing that was by then more fluid and louder than the sound of the rain； and it was Fernanda； who was walking throughout the house plaining that they had raised her to be a queen only to have her end up as a servant in a madhouse； with a lazy； idolatrous； libertine husband who lay on his back waiting for bread to rain down from heaven while she was straining her kidneys trying to keep afloat a home held together with pins where there was so much to do； so much to bear up under and repair from the time God gave his morning sunlight until it was time to go to bed that when she got there her eyes were full of ground glass； and yet no one ever said to her； “Good morning； Fernanda； did you sleep well？？Nor had they asked her； even out of courtesy； why she was so pale or why she awoke with purple rings under her eyes in spite of the fact that she expected it； of course； from a family that had always considered her a nuisance； an old rag； a booby painted on the wall； and who were always going around saying things against her behind her back； calling her church mouse； calling her Pharisee； calling her crafty； and even Amaranta； may she rest in peace； had said aloud that she was one of those people who could not tell their rectums from their ashes； God have mercy； such words； and she had tolerated everything with resignation because of the Holy Father； but she had not been able to tolerate it any more when that evil Jos？Arcadio Segundo said that the damnation of the family had e when it opened its doors to a stuck…up highlander； just imagine； a bossy highlander； Lord save us； a highlander daughter of evil spit of the same stripe as the highlanders the government sent to kill workers； you tell me； and he was referring to no one but her； the godchild of the Duke of Alba； a lady of such lineage that she made the liver of presidents？wives quiver； a noble dame of fine blood like her； who had the right to sign eleven peninsular names and who was the only mortal creature in that town full of bastards who did not feel all confused at the sight of sixteen pieces of silverware； so that her adulterous husband could die of laughter afterward and say that so many knives and forks and spoons were not meant for a human being but for a centipede； and the only one who could tell with her eyes closed when the white wine was served and on what side and in which glass and when the red wine and on what side and in which glass； and not like that peasant of an Amaranta； may she rest in peace； who thought that white wine was served in the daytime and red wine at night； and the only one on the whole coast who could take pride in the fact that she took care of her bodily needs only in golden chamberpots； so that Colonel Aureliano Buendía； may he rest in peace； could have the effrontery to ask her with his Masonic Ill humor where she had received that privilege and whether she did not shit shit but shat sweet basil； just imagine； with those very words； and so that Renata； her own daughter； who through an oversight had seen her stool in the bedroom； had answered that even if the pot was all gold and with a coat of arms； what was inside was pure shit； physical shit； and worse even than any other kind because it was stuck…up highland shit； just imagine； her own daughter； so that she never had any illusions about the rest of the family； but in any case she had the right to expect a little more consideration from her husband because； for better or for worse； he was her consecrated spouse her helpmate； her legal despoiler； who took upon himself of his own free and sovereign will the grave responsibility of taking her away from her paternal home； where she never wanted for or suffered from anything； where she wove funeral wreaths as a pastime； since her godfather had sent a letter with his signature and the stamp of his ring on the sealing wax simply to say that the hands of his goddaughter were not meant for tasks of this world except to play the clavichord； and； nevertheless； her insane husband had taken her from her home with all manner of admonitions and warnings and had brought her to that frying pan of hell where a person could not breathe because of the heat； and before she had pleted her Pentecostal fast he had gone off with his wandering trunks and his wastrel’s accordion to loaf in adultery with a wretch of whom it was only enough to see her behind； well； that’s been said； to see her wiggle her mare’s behind in order to guess that she was a； that she was a； just the opposite of her； who was a lady in a palace or a pigsty； at the table