Paula 31S

t a ry i m p e d e d that . D e m o c r a c y w o u l d crawl f o r w a r d at t he s low and

zigzagging pace of t he crab .

PAULA САМБ TO MY ROOM AGAIN LAST NIGHT. I HEARD HER ENTER WITH

her light step and the striking grace that was hers before the ravages

of her illness; in her nightgown and slippers, she climbed onto my

bed and sat at my feet and talked to me in the voice she used to

exchange confidences. "Listen, Mama, wake up. I don't want you to

think you're dreaming. I've come to ask for your help. . . . Í w a n t t o

d ie and I can ' t . Í see a r ad ian t p a t h b e f o r e m e , b u t I c a n ' t t ake tha t

f irst s tep , s o m e t h i n g is h o l d i n g m e . All t h a t ' s l e f t in my b e d is m y

suf fe r ing body, degene ra t ing by the day; I pe r i sh wi th th i r s t and c ry

o u t f o r peace , b u t n o o n e hears m e . I a m so t i red! W h y is this h a p -

pen ing? You, M a m a , w h o are always talking a b o u t y o u r f r i e n d l y spirits,

ask t h e m w h a t m y miss ion is, w h a t I have t o do . I s u p p o s e t h e r e is

n o t h i n g to fear, dea th is j u s t a t h re sho ld , like b i r th . I ' m s o r r y I c a n ' t

k e e p my m e m o r y , b u t I have b e e n d e t a c h i n g myself f r o m it, anyway;

w h e n I go I will go naked . T h e only reco l lec t ion I ' m tak ing w i t h m e

is of t he loved ones I leave b e h i n d ; I will always b e wi th you in s o m e

way. D o you r e m e m b e r t he last th ing I was able to wh i spe r to you

b e f o r e I s l ipped in to this long night? 'I love you , M a m a , ' t ha t ' s w h a t

I said. I ' m tell ing you again, now, a n d 1 will tell you in d r e a m s every

n igh t of your life. T h e only th ing ho ld ing m e back a little is having

t o go alone; if you t o o k my h a n d it w o u l d b e easier t o c ross to t he

o t h e r s i d e — t h e inf in i te lonel iness of d e a t h f r igh tens m e . H e l p m e

o n e m o r e t ime , M a m a . You've fough t like a l ioness t o save m e , b u t

reality is ove rpower ing you . I t ' s all useless n o w ; give up , s t op the

d o c t o r s and m e d i c i n e s a n d prayers , because n o t h i n g will m a k e m e

hea l thy again, t h e r e will b e n o mirac le , n o o n e can change t h e

c o u r s e of my dest iny and I d o n ' t w a n t it anyway; I have lived my

t i m e and I w a n t to say goodbye . Eve ryone in t h e family u n d e r s t a n d s

t ha t b u t you; I am eager t o be f ree , y o u ' r e t he only o n e w h o h a s n ' t

accep ted the fact tha t I will never b e as I was be fo re . Look at m y

was t ed body, t h i n k of h o w m y soul wan t s to escape a n d t h e t e r r ib le

316 Isabel Allende

b o n d s ho ld ing it back. O h , vieja, this is so ha rd fo r m e , 'and:I k n o w

it is fo r you, too . W h a t can w e do? In Chile , my g r a n d p a r e n t s are

praying for m e and my fa the r is cl inging to the. poe t i c recol lec t ion of

a spectral daughter , whi le on t he o t h e r side of this c o u n t r y E rnes to

is floating in a sea of ambigui ty , still u n a w a r e t ha t h e has lost m e

forever. Actually, h e is a l ready a widower , b u t h e can ' t w e e p for m e

o r love a n o t h e r w o m a n as long as my b o d y is b r ea th ing h e r e in your

house . In o u r br ief t ime together , w e w e r e ve ry happy; I a m leaving

h im so m a n y g o o d m e m o r i e s tha t h e w o n ' t have years e n o u g h to

exhaus t therçi. Tell h i m I will never fo rsake h im, he will never be

alone; I will b e his guard ian angel, as I will b e yours . T h e twenty-

eight years you a n d I sha red w e r e happy, too ; d o n ' t t o r t u r e yourself

th ink ing a b o u t w h a t cou ld have b e e n , th ings you wish y o u had d o n e

differently, omiss ions , mis takes . . . . G e t all t ha t ou t of y o u r head!

Af te r I die, w e will stay in con t ac t t h e way y o u d o w i t h y o u r grand-

pa ren t s and Granny ; I will b e in y o u as a cons tan t , s o f t p resence , I

will c o m e w h e n y o u call, c o m m u n i c a t i o n will be easier w h e n you

d o n ' t have t h e m i s e r y of m y sick b o d y b e f o r e you a n d you can see

m e as I was in t h e g o o d days. D o you r e m e m b e r tha t t i m e we

d a n c e d the paso doble in t h e s t reets of Toledo, leaping over puddles

and laughing in t h e ra in b e n e a t h o u r black umbre l la? A n d the star-

t led faces of t h e Japanese tour i s t s t ak ing p i c tu r e s of us? T h a t ' s h o w I

w a n t y o u t o see m e f r o m n o w on : two b e s t f r iends , two happy

w o m e n defy ing t h e rain. Yes, I had a g o o d life. . . . I t ' s so ha rd t o let

go of t h e wor ld ! Bu t I c a n ' t b e a r t h e m i s e r y of t he seven years Dr.

Sh ima p red i c t ed ; my b r o t h e r knows tha t , a n d he is t h e only o n e

wi th e n o u g h courage to set m e f ree . I w o u l d d o the s ame for h im.

Nicolas has never fo rgo t t en o u r o ld complicity, a n d h e has clear

ideas a n d a s e r e n e hear t . D o you r e m e m b e r h o w he d e f e n d e d m e

f r o m t h e shadows of t he d r agon at t h e w i n d o w ? You c a n ' t imagine

h o w m u c h mischief yve h id f r o m you , h o w w e fooled you to p ro t ec t

each o ther , h o w m a n y t imes you p u n i s h e d o n e for s o m e t h i n g the

o t h e r had d o n e , w i t h o u t o u r ever telling. I d o n ' t expec t you to he lp

m e die, n o o n e can ask tha t of you , only t ha t you n o t ho ld m e back

any longer. Give Nicolas a chance . H o w can he give m e a h a n d if

you never leave m e alone? Please d o n ' t grieve, M a m a . . . ."

"Wake u p , y o u ' r e c ry ing in y o u r s leep!" I hear Wil l ie ' s voice

Paula 317

c o m i n g f r o m a great d is tance , and , w i t h o u t o p e n i n g my eyes, I t r y

t o s ink f a r the r in to t he da rknes s so my daugh te r will n o t d i sappear :

this m a y be h e r last visit, 1 may never hear h e r voice again. "Wake

u p , wake u p , i t 's a n igh tmare . . . . " My h u s b a n d is shaking m e .

"Wai t f o r m e , Paula! I w a n t to go wi th you!" I sc ream, and t h e n he

t u r n s on the l ight and tries t o p u t his a r m s a r o u n d m e , b u t I p u s h

h i m away b r u s q u e l y because she is smi l ing at m e f r o m t h e doorway,

l i f t ing o n e h a n d t o wave goodbye b e f o r e vanishing d o w n t h e hallway,

h e r wh i t e n igh tgown f loat ing like wings and h e r ba re fee t barely

b r u s h i n g the ca rpe t . Beside m y b e d are h e r r abb i t f u r s l ippers .

J u a n c a m e t o pa r t i c ipa t e in a t w o - w e e k theological seminar . H e

was very busy analyzing G o d ' s mot ives , b u t h e f o u n d a way t o

s p e n d h o u r s w i t h m e and w i t h Paula. Ever s ince giving u p his

M a r x i s t conv ic t ions to devo te h imse l f t o divine s tudies , s o m e t h i n g

I c a n n o t p u t m y fìnger o n has changed in his p e r s o n : t h e slightly

t i l ted head , t h e s lower ges tures , t h e m o r e c o m p a s s i o n a t e gaze, t he

m o r e r e s t r a i n e d v o c a b u l a r y — n o w h e d o e s n ' t e n d each s e n t e n c e

w i t h a swear w o r d , as h e used to. D u r i n g this visit I p l an t o shake

t ha t air of so l emni ty a lit t le; it w o u l d b e t o o m u c h if rel igion kil led

his sense of h u m o r . My b r o t h e r desc r ibes h imse l f in his ro l e as pas -

t o r as a manager of suffering; h is h o u r s a re ea ten u p wi th c o n s o l i n g

a n d t r y i n g t o h e l p p e o p l e w h o have n o h o p e , in a d m i n i s t e r i n g t h e

scarce r e s o u r c e s available f o r t h e dying, t he d r u g addic t s , t he p r o s -

t i tu tes , t h e a b a n d o n e d ch i ld ren , a n d o t h e r w r e c k s in t h e m u l t i t u d i -

n o u s C o u r t o f Mirac les t ha t m a k e s u p humani ty . H i s h e a r t c a n n o t

s t r e t c h far e n o u g h t o e m b r a c e so m u c h pa in . Since h e lives in t h e

m o s t conse rva t ive a rea of t h e U n i t e d States, t o h i m Ca l i fo rn i a

s e e m s like a l and of w e i r d o s . By c h a n c e , h e w i t n e s s e d a gay p a r a d e ,

an e x u b e r a n t D ionys i an carnival , a n d t h e n in Berkeley, h e a t t e n d e d

f r enz i ed d e m o n s t r a t i o n s fo r a n d against a b o r t i o n , poli t ical wrang le s

on t h e univers i ty c a m p u s , a n d a conven t ion of s t r e e t evangelists

s h o u t i n g the i r d o c t r i n e s a m i d beggars a n d aging h ipp ies , t h e last

r e m n a n t s of t h e sixties, still w i th t h e i r shell neck laces a n d f lowers

p a i n t e d on t h e i r cheeks . Horr i f ied . , J u a n l e a r n e d t ha t a t t he s e m i -

n a r y cour ses a r e o f f e r e d in The Theology of the Hula Hoop and How to

Earn a Living Making Fun of the-Bible. Every t ime th is be loved b r o t h e r

j j g Isabel Allende

c o m e s , w e m o u r n Paula 's f o r t u n e , f i nd ing s o m e r e m o t e c o r n e r of

t h e h o u s e w h e r e n o o n e cań see us, b u t w e also laugh as w e did w h e n w e w e r e young, w h e n w e w e r e d iscover ing the w o r l d and

thought w e w e r e invincible. I can tell h i m even the m o s t secret things I l isten to his counsel as I rattle pans m t h e k i tchen to cook u p n e w vegetarian dishes for h i m — a poin t l ess l abo r s ince h e barely

pecks at his f o o d : his n o u r i s h m e n t is ideas a n d b o o k s . H e spends

long h o u r s a lone w i t h Paula, I t h ink , praying. H e n o l o n g e r wagers

she will ge t well ; h e says t h a t t h e p r e s e n c e of h e r spi r i t in t h e house

is ve ry s t rong , t h a t she is c lear ing spi r i tual pa ths t o us a n d sweep-

ing o u r lives c lean of trivia, leaving only t h e essent ial . I n h e r

wheelchai r , vacan t -eyed , mot ion les s , pa le , she is an angel o p e n i n g

d o o r s t o t h e divine so w e may g l impse its immensi ty .

"Paula is gett ing ready to leave t he wor ld . She is exhausted, Juan.

" W h a t d o y o u p lan t o d o ? "

"I w o u l d he lp h e r d ie if I k n e w how." " D o n ' t even t h ink of iti You w o u l d ca r ry a b u r d e n of guilt tor

t he res t of y o u r days." «But I will feel even m o r e guilty if I leave he r m th is mar ty r -

d o m . . . . W h a t will h a p p e n if 1 d ie b e f o r e she does? Imag ine tha t

I ' m gone , w h o w o u l d take care of her? " T h a t m o m e n t ha sn ' t c o m e , y o u gain n o t h i n g by ge t t ing ahead

of yourself . Life a n d d e a t h have the i r t i m e . G o d never sends us suf-

fe r ing w i t h o u t t h e s t reng th to b e a r i t . "

"You're p r each ing at m e , Juan , like a pr ies t . . . .

"Paula d o e s n ' t be long to you . You shou ld n o t p r o l o n g h e r h ie

artificially, b u t ne i t he r shou ld y o u s h o r t e n i t ." " H o w far does 'art if icial ' go? Have you seen the hospi ta l I have

downsta i r s? I con t ro l every f u n c t i o n of h e r body ; I m e a s u r e every

d r o p of w a t e r t ha t goes in to h e r sys tem, and ther.e a re a dozen b o

ties and syringes o n h e r table. A n d s ince she c a n ' t swallow for h e r -

self, if I d o n ' t f e e d h e r t h r o u g h t ha t t u b e m h e r s t o m a c h , she wi

d ie of h u n g e r w i th in a w e e k . " ^ " W o u l d y o u b e able t o w i t h h o l d f o o d f r o m her?

" N o never. Bu t if i k n e w h o w t o speed u p he r d e a t h w i t h o u t

pain , I t h i n k I w o u l d d o it. If I d o n ' t , s o o n e r o r la ter Nicolás will,

a n d it i sn ' t fair fo r h i m to take o n t ha t responsibility. I have a han -

Paula 319

fu l of s leeping pills I 've b e e n keep ing for m o n t h s , b u t I d o n ' t k n o w

if t hey ' r e e n o u g h . "

" O h , Isabel. . . . H o w m u c h can you su f fe r?"

"I d o n ' t know. I t h ink I ' m at t he e n d of my s t rength . If only I

cou ld give h e r my life and d ie in h e r place. I ' m lost, I d o n ' t k n o w

w h o I a m , I t r y t o r e m e m b e r w h o I was o n c e b u t I f ind only dis-

guises, masks, p ro jec t ions , t h e c o n f u s e d images of a w o m a n I can ' t

recognize . A m I t he femin is t I t h o u g h t I was, o r t he fr ivolous girl

w h o appea red on television w e a r i n g n o t h i n g b u t os t r ich feathers?

T h e obsessive m o t h e r , t h e un fa i th fu l wife , t he fearless adventurer , o r

t he cowardly w o m a n ? A m I t h e p e r s o n w h o he lped poli t ical fugi-

tives find asylum o r t he o n e w h o r an away because she c o u l d n ' t

h a n d l e fear? Too m a n y con t rad ic t ions . . . . "

"You're all of t h e m , a n d also t h e samura i w h o is ba t t l ing

d e a t h . "

"Was batt l ing, Juan . I 've los t . "

Di f f icu l t t imes. Weeks of such anxiety t ha t I d o n ' t w a n t t o see any-

o n e ; I can barely speak o r ea t o r sleep; 1 w r i t e f o r h o u r s o n end . I

k e e p losing weight . Un t i l now, I was so busy fighting Paula 's illness

t ha t I could deceive myself, imagine t ha t I could w i n this ba t t le of

T i tans , b u t n o w tha t I k n o w Paula is going, m y e f for t s a re absurd .

She is w o r n ou t ; tha t ' s w h a t she tells m e in d r e a m s at n ight and

w h e n I wake at d a w n and w h e n I a m walking in t h e fo res t and the

b r eeze carr ies h e r w o r d s t o m e . O n t h e sur face , eve ry th ing seems

m o r e o r less t he s a m e — e x c e p t f o r t h o s e u r g e n t messages, h e r ever-

w e a k e r voice asking for he lp . I a m n o t t he only o n e w h o hears it,

t h e w o m e n w h o he lp m e care f o r h e r a re beg inn ing to say the i r

adieus . T h e masseuse dec ided it was n o t w o r t h w h i l e t o c o n t i n u e h e r

sessions because , as she said, " O u r girl is n o t r e s p o n d i n g . " T h e

phys io therap i s t called, s t a m m e r i n g , t o n g u e - t i e d wi th apologies,

unt i l finally he confes sed tha t Paula 's i ncurab le illness was af fec t ing

his energy. T h e den ta l hygienis t c ame , a y o u n g w o m a n Paula 's age,

wi th t h e same long ha i r a n d th ick eyebrows , so m u c h like h e r they

cou ld pass for sisters. Every two weeks , s h e cleans Paula 's t e e t h wi th

great, delicacy, so she w o n ' t h u r t her, t h e n hu r r i e s away w i t h o u t let-

t ing m e see he r face, t r y i n g t o h i d e h e r e m o t i o n s . She r e fu se s t o

320 Isabel Allende

charge anything; u p till now, t he r e ' s b e e n n o o p p o r t u n i t y for he r to

h a n d m e a bill. W e w o r k together , because Paula b e c o m e s rigid

w h e n anyone tr ies to t o u c h h e r face; only I can o p e n h e r m o u t h and

b r u s h h e r t ee th . Th is visit I no t i ced t h e hygienist was w o r r i e d ; n o

m a t t e r h o w carefully I d o d i e daily cleaning, t h e r e a re p r o b l e m s

w i t h Paula 's gums . Dr. Sh ima o f t e n c o m e s by o n the way f r o m w o r k

a n d br ings m e messages f r o m his I C h i n g sticks. W e s t and close to

t he b e d , ta lking a b o u t t h e soul and accep t ing dea th . " W h e n she

leaves us, I will feel a great void ," h e says. " I ' m used t o Paula now,

she ' s very i m p o r t a n t in my life." Dr . F o r r e s t e r seems uneasy, too .

Af t e r h e r last examina t ion , she was s i lent fo r a l ong t i m e whi le she

t h o u g h t over h e r diagnosis , and finally she said t ha t f r o m a clinical

p o i n t of view lit t le had changed ; never the less , she said, Paula seems

less and less w i t h us: she sleeps t o o m u c h , h e r eyes a re glassy, she

d o e s n ' t r eac t t o noises anymore , h e r ce rebra l f u n c t i o n s a re d imin -

ished. Bu t in spi te of everything, she is m o r e beau t i fu l : he r hands

and ankles a re finer, h e r n e c k longer, h e r pale cheeks dramatical ly

emphas i ze h e r l o n g b lack eyelashes. H e r face has an angelic expres -

sion, as if finally she h a d ob l i t e ra ted all d o u b t a n d f o u n d the divine

f o u n t she h a d sought so resolutely. She is so d i f f e r en t f r o m me! I

c a n ' t recognize anyth ing of m e in her . O r of my m o t h e r o r my

g r a n d m o t h e r — e x c e p t t h e large, da rk , slightly me lancho ly eyes.

W h o is th i s daugh te r of m i n e ? W h a t acc iden t of c h r o m o s o m e s navi-

gat ing f r o m o n e gene ra t i on t o t he n e x t in t h e m o s t r e c o n d i t e spaces

of t he b l o o d a n d h o p e d e t e r m i n e d this girl?

Nicolas and Celia keep us company; w e spend m u c h of the day

in Paula's r o o m , closed n o w against t he cold. In t he summer , t he chil-

d r e n played o n t h e t e r r ace in the i r plastic pool l i t tered wi th dead

mosqu i toes a n d bits of soupy cookies whi le o u r invalid res ted benea th

a parasol , b u t n o w that a u t u m n is gone and win te r is beginning, the

house has d r a w n in to itself and w e all ga ther in Paula's r o o m . Celia is

a c o n s u m m a t e ally, gene rous and stable; she has b e e n act ing as my

assistant fo r several m o n t h s . 1 d o n ' t have t he hear t to work , and with-

o u t he r I wou ld be c r u s h e d b e n e a t h a m o u n t a i n of paper. She usually

has a child in he r a r m s o r dangling o n a hip, and he r b louse unbut -

t o n e d t o nurse Andrea . This g randdaughte r of m i n e is always happy;

she plays by herself and falls asleep on t h e floor sucking t h e c o r n e r oi

Paula 321

a diaper, so qu ie t tha t we forget w h e r e we p u t h e r and, unless we ' r e

careful , could step on her. As soon as I learn to live wi th sadness, Î

will take on my g randmother ly duties. Î will th ink u p stories for the

chi ldren, bake cookies, m a k e puppe t s and colorful cos tumes to fill the

thea te r t r u n k . Ï need Granny; if she were he re she would be nearly

eighty, a slightly dot ty and eccentr ic old lady wi th only a handfu l of

hair o n he r head , b u t wi th h e r talent fo r raising children intact.

I t s e e m s this year will never end , yet I d o n ' t k n o w w h e r e all t he

h o u r s a n d days have gone . I n e e d t ime . T i m e to clear away c o n f u -

sion, heal w o u n d s , a n d r e n e w myself. W h a t will Ï be like at sixty?

N o t o n e cell of t he girl I was r e m a i n s in t he w o m a n ï a m today, only

m e m o r y , e n d u r i n g a n d persever ing. H o w long will it t ake to travel

t h r o u g h this da rk tunne l? M o w long to get back on my feet?

I k e e p Paula's l e t te r in t h e s ame tin b o x tha t con ta ins M e m e ' s

relics. I take it o u t s o m e t i m e s , reverently, like a holy ob jec t , imagin-

ing t h a t it con ta ins t h e exp lana t ion I long for, t e m p t e d t o r ead it b u t

also paralyzed by supers t i t ious fear. I ask myself why a young,

healthy, deeply in love w o m a n in t he m i d d l e of h e r h o n e y m o o n

w o u l d wr i t e a le t ter t o be o p e n e d a f t e r he r dea th? W h a t d id she see

in h e r n igh tmares? W h a t mys te r ies lie h i d d e n in t he life of my

daugh te r? Sor t ing t h r o u g h o ld snapshots , I see he r again f r e sh and

vital, always wi th an a r m a r o u n d h e r h u s b a n d , h e r b ro the r , o r h e r

f r iends ; in all of t h e m , e x c e p t h e r w e d d i n g p ic tures , she is in b lue

j eans a n d a s imple b louse , h e r ha i r t ied w i t h a kerchief , w i t h o u t

a d o r n m e n t . T h a t is h o w I m u s t r e m e m b e r her , b u t tha t smi l ing girl

has b e e n rep laced by a me lancho ly f igure s u b m e r s e d in so l i tude and

silence. "Le t ' s o p e n the le t te r , " Celia u rged fo r t h e t h o u s a n d t h t ime .

In t he last f ew days, I have b e e n unab le t o c o m m u n i c a t e w i t h Paula;

she is n o t visiting m e now. Before , t he m i n u t e I s t e p p e d t h r o u g h the

d o o r I perce ived h e r thirs t , h e r musc le c r amps , t he var ia t ions in h e r

b l o o d p r e s s u r e and t e m p e r a t u r e , b u t n o w I c a n ' t sense h e r n e e d s in

advance. "All r ight , le t ' s o p e n i t ," I agreed finally. I w e n t t o ge t t h e

box ; shakily, I b r o k e the w a x seal, o p e n e d t h e envelope , a n d t o o k

o u t two pages w r i t t e n in Paula 's p rec i se hand , and read a loud . H e r

clear w o r d s came- to us f r o m a n o t h e r t ime .

/ do not. want to remain trapped in my body. Freed from it, I will-be

322 Isabel Allende . .

closer co those 1 love, no matter if they are at die: four corners of the planet. It

is difficult, to express the love I leave behind, the depths of the feelings that join

me to Ernesto, to my parents, to my brother, to my grandparents. I know you

will remember me, and as long as you do, I will be with you. I want to be cre-

mated and have my ashes scattered outdoors. I do not want a tombstone with

my name anywhere, I prefer to live in the hearts of those I love, and to return

to the earth. I have a savings account; use it to help children who need to go to

school or to eat. Divide my things among any who want a keepsake—actually,

there is very little. Please don't be sad, I am still with you, except I am closer

than I was before. In another time, we will be reunited in spirit, but for now

we will be together as long as you remember me. Ernesto. . . . I have loved you

deeply and still do; you are an extraordinary man and I don't doubt that you

can be happy after I am gone. Mama, Papa, Nico, Grandmother, Tío Ramón;

you are the best family I could ever have had. Don't, forget me, and . . . let's

see a smile on those faces! Remember that we spirits can best help, accompany,

and protect, those who are happy. I love you dearly.

Paula.

W i n t e r is back and it w o n ' t s top raining; it 's cold, and you are worse

every day. Forgive m e for having m a d e you wait so long, Paula. . . .

I 've b e e n t o o slow, b u t n o w I have n o doub t , your let ter is so revealing!

C o u n t on m e , I p romise I will he lp you, jus t give m e a little m o r e

t ime. I sit bes ide you in t he qu ie t of your r o o m in this w in te r tha t will

b e e ternal fo r m e , t he two of us alone, just as w e have b e e n so o f t e n

over diese m o n t h s , and I o p e n myself to pain w i thou t of fe r ing any

resistance. I rest my head on your ches t and feel the irregular bea t of

your heart, t he w a r m t h of your skin, the slow rhy thm of your breathing;

I close my eyes and for a few instants imagine tha t you are simply

sleeping. Bu t s o r r o w explodes wi th in m e wi th t he f u r y of a sudden

s t o r m and I feel your n ightgown g r o w d a m p with m y tears while a

visceral m o a n b o r n in t h e dep th s of t h é ea r th rises t h rbugh my body

like a spear and fills my m o u t h . T h e y assure m e you are n o t suffering.

H o w d o they know? It may b e that in t h e end you have b e c o m e

accus tomed t o t h e i ron a r m o r of paralysis, and have forgot ten the

taste of a peach o r the s imple pleasure of r u n n i n g your fingers

th rough your hair, b u t your soul is t r a p p e d and yearns to be free-

T h e r e is no resp i te f r o m this obsession; I k n o w that I have failed in

Paula 323

the m o s t i m p o r t a n t challenge of my life. Enough! Jus t look at t he

ru ins of wha t is left of you, Paula . . . dear God! This is the p r e m o n i -

t ion you had on your h o n e y m o o n , and why you w r o t e the letter.

"Paula is already a saint, she is in heaven and suffer ing has washed

away all h e r sins," says Inés , your scar red Salvadoran nurse w h o spoils

you like a baby. H o w lovingly w e care for you! You are never alone,

day o r night; every ha l f -hour w e move you, to main ta in wha t little

flexibility you halve left; w e m o n i t o r every d r o p of wa te r and every

g r a m of food; you receive your medic ines on a precise schedule;

be fo re w e dress you w e ba the you and massage you wi th lot ion to

keep your skin healthy. " I t ' s incredible wha t you 've b e e n able to do;

she w o u l d n ' t d o diis well in any hospi ta l ," says Dr. Forrester . "She

can live seven years," Dr. Shima predic ts . For what? You are like d ie

fairy-tale Sleeping Beauty in he r glass coffin, excep t tha t n o p r ince

will c o m e to save you wi th a kiss; n o o n e can w a k e you f r o m this final

d r e a m . Your only exit, Paula, is dea th . N o w I can da re th ink it, say it

to you , and wri te it in m y yellow pad. I call u p o n my sturdy grandfa-

the r and m y clairvoyant g r a n d m o t h e r to he lp you cross t he th reshold

and be b o r n on the o the r side; I especially s u m m o n Granny, your

g r a n d m o t h e r wi th the t r anspa ren t eyes, the o n e w h o d ied of s o r r o w

w h e n she had to be separa ted f r o m you. I call h e r to c o m e wèiûi h e r

go lden scissors to cut the s t rong th read that keeps you t ied to your

body. H e r p h o t o — w h e n she is still young, wi th the h in t of a smile

and liquid eyes—is near y o u r bed , as are those of all your guiding

spirits. C o m e , Granny, c o m e for y o u r granddaughter , I plead, b u t I

fear tha t ne i ther she n o r any o t h e r shade will c o m e to l if t this chalice

of anguish f r o m m e . I will be a lone bes ide you to take you by the

hand t o t he very doo rway to death , and , if î can, I will cross t h rough

wi th you.

C a n I live in your s tead? C a r r y y o u in m y b o d y so you can

r ecove r t he fifty o r sixty years s to len f r o m you? I d o n ' t m e a n

r e m e m b e r you, b u t live y o u r life, be you, let y o u love and feel and

b r e a t h e in m e , let my ges tu res b e yours , m y voice y o u r voice. Let

m e b e erased, dissolved, so t ha t you take possess ion of m y body, oh ,

Paula, so t ha t your inexhaus t ib le a n d joyful g o o d n e s s may c o m -

pletely replace my l i felong fears, my pa l t ry ambi t ions , my dep le t ed

vanity. To vent my suffer ing, I w a n t t o s c r eam to m y last b rea th ,

324 Isabel Allende

r e n d my clothing, pull o u t my hai r , -smear myself w i t h ashes, b u t I

have lived half a c e n t u r y u n d e r ru les of p r o p e r behavior ; I am. an

e x p e r t in suppress ing w r a t h a n d bear ing pa in , so I have n o voice for

sc reaming . M a y b e the d o c t o r s a re mis t aken and t h e m a c h i n e s lie,

m a y b e y o u are n o t entirely unconsc ious and y o u a r e aware of m y

state of m i n d ; I m u s t n o t dis t ress you w i t h m y weep ing . I a m

d r o w n i n g in c h o k e d - b a c k grief. I go ou t s ide o n t h e t e r r a c e w h e r e

t h e r e is n o t e n o u g h air t o feed my sobs o r e n o u g h ra in t o c ry m y

tears . I get in to my car and drive away f r o m t h e t o w n t o w a r d t h e

hills; a lmos t blindly, î r each the fores t w h e r e I go t o walk , t h e haven

w h e r e I so o f t e n c o m e to b e a lone a n d th ink . I p lunge in to t he

w o o d s a long pa ths m a d e r o u g h wi th w i n t e r ' s debr is . I r u n , t r i pp ing

over b r a n c h e s and rocks , p u s h i n g t h r o u g h t h e s a tu r a t ed g r e e n e r y of

th is vast bosky space, so like t h e fores ts of my c h i l d h o o d , t h e o n e s I

c rossed t h r o u g h o n mu leback , fol lowing b e h i n d m y grandfa ther . My

fee t a re heavy w i t h m u d a n d m y c lo thes a r e d r i p p i n g and m y soul is

b leed ing , and as it g rows dark , and w h e n finally I can go n o fa r ther

a f t e r walk ing and s tumbl ing and s l ipping a n d ge t t ing u p to flounder

o n , I d r o p to m y knees , tear m y blouse , r i p p i n g off b u t t o n s , a n d

w i t h my a r m s o p e n e d in to a cross a n d m y b reas t naked , I s c r eam

y o u r n a m e , Paula. T h e ra in is a m a n t l e of d a r k crysta l a n d s o m b e r

c louds lower a m o n g the black t r ee tops a n d t h e w i n d b i tes at m y

breas ts , t u r n s m y b o n e s to ice, s c rubs m e clean inside wi th its

swirling, w i n t r y ta t ters . I b u r y my h a n d s in t h e m u c k , claw o u t w e t

c lods of d i r t , a n d r u b t h e m o n my face and m o u t h , I c h e w l u m p s of

saline m u d , I gu lp t h e acid o d o r of h u m u s a n d medic ina l a r o m a of

eucalyptus . "Har th , w e l c o m e my daughter , receive her , t ake h e r t o

y o u r b o s o m ; M o t h e r G o d d e s s Ear th , he lp u s , " I beg Her , a n d m o a n

in to t h e n ight falling a r o u n d m e , calling y o u , calling you . Far in t h e

d is tance , a flock of wi ld ducks passes, and they c a r r y your n a m e t o

t h e sou th . Paula . . . Paula . . .

E P I L O G U E

Chrìstmas 1992

NEAR DAWN ON SUNDAY, DECEMBER 6 , AFTER A

miracu lous n igh t in w h i c h t h e veils t ha t c o n -

ceal reality w e r e p a r t e d , Paula d ied . I t was at

f o u r in t h e m o r n i n g . Mer life e n d e d w i t h o u t s truggle, anxiety, o r

pain; in h e r passing t h e r e was only t h e abso lu te peace a n d love of

t hose of us w h o w e r e w i t h her . She d ied in m y a r m s , s u r r o u n d e d by

he r family, t he t hough t s of t hose absen t , and the spir i ts of h e r

ances tors w h o h a d c o m e to h e r aid. She d ied wi th t he s ame p e r f e c t

grace tha t charac te r ized all t h e acts of h e r life.

For s o m e t ime , I had sensed t h e e n d . I k n e w wi th the s ame

i r r e fu tab le cer ta in ty wi th w h i c h I awakened o n e m o r n i n g in 1963

k n o w i n g that , only a f ew h o u r s b e f o r e , a d a u g h t e r h a d b e e n c o n -

ceived in my w o m b . D e a t h c a m e w i t h a l ight s tep . Paula 's senses

had b e e n closing d o w n , o n e by one , d u r i n g the p rev ious weeks ; I

t h ink she cou ld n o t hea r any longer, h e r eyes w e r e a lmos t always

closed, and she d id n o t r eac t w h e n w e t o u c h e d o r m o v e d her. I nex -

orably, she was d r i f t i ng away. I w r o t e a le t te r to my b r o t h e r desc r ib -

ing the s y m p t o m s i m p e r c e p t i b l e t o o t h e r s b u t evident to m e , look-

ing ahead w i t h a s t range m i x t u r e of anguish and relief. J u a n

answered wi th a single sen tence : I a m praying fo r h e r a n d for you.

To lose Paula was u n b e a r a b l e t o r m e n t , b u t it w o u l d b e w o r s e t o

326 Isabel Allende

watch h e r slowly agonize t h r o u g h t h e seven years f o r e s e e n by the I

Ch ing sticks. T h a t Saturday, Inés c a m e early a n d w e p r e p a r e d the

basins of wa te r to ba the Paula and wash he r hair ; w e se t o u t her

c lo thes f o r t he day, and changed he r sheets , as w e d id each m o r n -

ing. As w e began t o r emove he r n igh tgown, w e n o t i c e d she was

d e e p in an a b n o r m a l sopor , like a swoon , lifeless, and w e a r i n g the

express ion of a child, as if she had r e t u r n e d to t h e i n n o c e n t age

w h e n she used to c u t flowers in G r a n n y ' s garden . I k n e w t h e n that

she was ready for he r last adven tu re a n d , in o n e blessed ins tant , the

c o n f u s i o n a n d t e r r o r of this year of aff l ic t ion vanished, giving way to

a d i a p h a n o u s tranquillity. " D o you m i n d , Inés , I w a n t t o b e alone

w i t h he r , " I asked. Inés t h r e w herself o n Paula and kissed her . "Take

m y sins w i t h you, a n d t r y to And forgiveness for m e u p t h e r e , " she

p leaded , and she d id n o t w a n t t o leave unt i l I a ssured h e r that: Paula

h a d h e a r d h e r and w o u l d se rve as h e r messenger . I w e n t to advise

m y m o t h e r , w h o hu r r i ed ly d res sed a n d c a m e d o w n to Paula 's r o o m .

T h e t h r e e of us w e r e a lone , a c c o m p a n i e d by t h e cat, c r o u c h e d in a

c o r n e r w i t h h e r i n sc ru t ab le a m b e r pupi l s f ixed on the b e d , waiting.

Wil l ie was do ing the m a r k e t i n g and Celia a n d Nicolas never c o m e

o n Saturdays, tha t ' s t he day they clean the i r a p a r t m e n t , so I calcu-

lated w e had several h o u r s t o say o u r farewells w i t h o u t i n t e r r u p -

t ions. M y daughter- in- law, however, w o k e tha t m o r n i n g wi th a pre-

s e n t i m e n t and , w i t h o u t a w o r d of exp lana t ion , le f t h e r h u s b a n d to

t h e h o u s e h o l d chores , p i cked u p h e r t w o ch i ldren , a n d c a m e t o see

us. She f o u n d m y m o t h e r o n o n e side of t he bed a n d m e o n the

o ther , silently caressing Paula. She says tha t t h e m i n u t e she en te red

t h e r o o m , she no t i ced h o w still t he air was, and wha t a del ica te light

enve loped us, and she real ized tha t t h e m o m e n t w e m o s t feared

and , a t t he s ame t ime , des i r ed h a d c o m e . She sat d o w n w i t h us

whi le Ale jandro played wi th his toy cars on the whee lcha i r and

A n d r e a d o z e d on t h e r u g , c lu tch ing h e r securi t^ b lanket . A couple

of h o u r s later, Wil l ie and Nicolas arr ived; they, t oo , n e e d e d no

explana t ion . T h e y l ighted a f i re in t he f i replace and p u t on Paula's

favori te mus ic : Moza r t and Vivaldi conce r to s a n d C h o p i n noc tu rnes .

W e m u s t call E rnes to , they dec ided , b u t his t e l e p h o n e in N e w York

d i d n ' t answer a n d they c o n c l u d e d he was still 011 his r e t u r n flight

f r o m Ch ina and could n o t be located . T h e petals f r o m Wil l ie ' s last

Paula 327

roses w e r e beg inn ing to fall on t he n ight table a m o n g the m e d i c i n e

bo t t l e s and syringes. NicolávS w e n t o u t to buy flowers, and short ly

a f t e r r e t u r n e d w i t h a r m f u l s of t he f lowers Paula had chosen for h e r

w e d d i n g : t h e smell of t u b e r o s e a n d iris sp read so fdy t h r o u g h the

h o u s e wh i l e t h e hou r s , each s lower than the last, b e c a m e tangled in

t h e clocks.

At m i d a f t e r n o o n , Dr . Fo r r e s t e r c a m e by a n d c o n f i r m e d tha t

s o m e t h i n g had c h a n g e d in h e r pa t i en t ' s cond i t ion . She d id n o t

d e t e c t any fever o r signs of pain , Paula 's lungs w e r e clear, and ne i -

t h e r was this a n e w ons laught of porphyr ia , b u t t h e c o m p l e x m e c h a -

n i s m of h e r body was barely func t ion ing . " I t s eems t o be a cerebra l

h e m o r r h a g e , " she said, and suggested calling a n u r s e to b r ing oxy-

gen t o t he house , in view of t he fact t ha t w e h a d agreed f r o m the

beg inn ing w e w o u l d never take h e r back to a hospi ta l , b u t I ve toed

tha t . T h e r e was n o n e e d to discuss it; e v e r y o n e in t h e family had

c o n c u r r e d tha t w e w o u l d n o t p r o l o n g h e r agony, only m a k e h e r

c o m f o r t a b l e . Unobtrus ively , t he d o c t o r sat d o w n nea r t he f i replace

t o wait , she , t oo , caught u p in t he magic of t ha t u n i q u e t ime . She

w o u l d s p e n d all n igh t w i t h us, n o t as a physician, b u t as t h e f r i end

she h a d b e c o m e . H o w s imple life is, w h e n all is said and d o n e . . . .

In this year of t o r m e n t , I had gradually b e e n le t t ing go: f irst I said

g o o d b y e to Paula 's intel l igence, t h e n t o h e r vitality and h e r c o m -

pany, now, finally, I h a d to pa r t wi th h e r body. I had lost everything,

a n d my d a u g h t e r was leaving m e , b u t t h e o n e essential t h ing

r e m a i n e d : love. I n t he end , all I have l e f t is t he love I give her.

I w a t c h e d the sky g r o w da rk b e y o n d t h e large w i n d o w s . At t ha t

hou r , t he view f r o m the hill w h e r e w e live is ex t r ao rd ina ry ; t he

w a t e r of t h e Bay is like p h o s p h o r e s c e n t steel as t he l andscape t u r n s

t o a f r e sco of shadows and lights. As n igh t a p p r o a c h e d , t he

exhaus ted ch i ld ren fell asleep on t h e floor, covered w i t h a b lanke t ,

a n d Wil l ie bus i ed h imsel f in t he k i tchen p r e p a r i n g s o m e t h i n g to eat ;

w e had only recen t ly realized tha t n o n e of us had ea ten all day. H e

c a m e back a f t e r a whi le wi th a tray a n d a b o t d e of c h a m p a g n e w e

h a d saved all year f o r t he m o m e n t w h e n Paula w a k e d again in this

wor ld . I c o u l d n ' t eat , b u t I toas ted m y d a u g h t e r so she w o u l d awake

h a p p y in a n o t h e r life. We l ighted candles , a n d Celia p icked u p h e r

gui tar and sang Paula 's songs; she has a d e e p , w a r m voice t ha t s e e m s

3.28 Isabel Allende

. to issue f r o m the ea r th itself, a n d h e r s is ter - in- law loved, t o hea r her.

"Sing jus t f o r m e , " she wou ld coax Celia, " s ing l o w " A w o n d r o u s

lucidity a l lowed m e t o live t h o s e h o u r s fully, w i t h p e n e t r a t i n g in tu-

i t ion and all five senses alert , as well as o t h e r s w h o s e ex is tence I

h a d n ' t b e e n aware of. T h e w a r m g low of t h e cand les i l lumina ted my

d a u g h t e r — s i l k e n skin, crystal bones , t h e shadows of h e r eye-

l a s h e s — h o w sleeping forever. T ranspor t ed by t h e in tens i ty of our

feel ing for Paula, and t h e loving c o m r a d e s h i p w o m e n share dur ing

t h e f u n d a m e n t a l ri tuals of life, my m o t h e r , Celia, a n d I improvised

the last ce remon ies : w e sponged Paula 's body, a n o i n t e d h e r skin

w i t h cologne, d ressed h e r in w a r m c lo th ing so she w o u l d n ' t feel

cold , p u t t he rabbi t f u r s l ippers on h e r feet , a n d c o m b e d h e r hair.

Celia p laced p h o t o g r a p h s of Ale jandro a n d A n d r e a in h e r hands:

" L o o k o u t fo r t h e m , " she asked. I w r o t e o u r n a m e s o n a p iece of

paper , b r o u g h t m y g r a n d m o t h e r ' s bridal o range b lo s soms a n d o n e

of G r a n n y ' s silver t easpoons , a n d p laced all of t h e m on Paula's

b reas t f o r h e r t o take as a r e m e m b r a n c e , a long w i t h my grand-

m o t h e r ' s silver m i r r o r , because I r e a s o n e d t h a t if it h a d p ro t ec t ed

m e fo r fifty years, surely it w o u l d safeguard Paula d u r i n g t ha t last

crossing. N o w Paula was opal , alabaster, t r a n s l u c e n t . . . a n d so cold!

T h e cold of d e a t h c o m e s f r o m wi th in , like a blazing, in te rna l b o n -

fire; w h e n I kissed her, ice l ingered on m y lips l ike a b u r n . Ga the red

a r o u n d h e r b e d , w e looked t h r o u g h old p h o t o g r a p h s a n d r e m e m -

b e r e d the happ ie s t t i m e s of t he past , f r o m the first d r e a m in wh ich

Paula revealed herself t o m e , l ong b e f o r e she was b o r n , t o he r comic

fit of jealousy w h e n Celia a n d Nicolas w e r e m a r r i e d . W e ce lebra ted

t h e gif ts she h a d given us in life, and all of us said goodbye and

prayed in o u r o w n way. As t h e h o u r s w e n t by, s o m e t h i n g s o l e m n and

sacred filled t h e r o o m , jus t as o n t h e occas ion of A n d r e a ' s bir th.

T h e two m o m e n t s a re m u c h alike: b i r t h and d e a t h are m a d e of the

s a m e fabric . T h e air b e c a m e m o r e and m o r e s t i l l^we m o v e d slowly,

in o r d e r n o t to d i s t u rb o u r hea r t s ' r epose . W e w e r e filled with

Paula 's spiri t , as if w e w e r e all o n e be ing and t h e r e was no separa-

t i on a m o n g us: life a n d d e a t h w e r e jo ined . Fo r a f e w hours , we

e x p e r i e n c e d t ha t reality t he soul knows , absen t t i m e o r space.

I s l ipped in to b e d b e s i d e my daughter , c radl ing h e r against my

b o s o m , as I had w h e n she was young. Celia r e m o v e d the cat, and

Paula 329

a r r a n g e d the two s leeping ch i ld ren so the i r bod ies w o u l d w a r m

thei r aun t ' s feet . Nicolas t o o k his s is ter ' s h a n d ; Wil l ie and my

m o t h e r sat o n e i ther side, s u r r o u n d e d by e therea l beings, by m u r -

m u r s and t e n u o u s f ragrances f r o m t h e past , by ghos t s and appar i -

t ions , by f r i ends and relatives, living and dead . All d u r i n g the s low

night , w e wai ted , r e m e m b e r i n g t h e dif f icul t m o m e n t s , b u t especially

the h a p p y ones , telling stories, c ry ing a little a n d smil ing a lot, h o n -

o r ing t h e l ight of Páula as she sank d e e p e r a n d d e e p e r i n t o t h e final

sleep, h e r breas t barely r is ing at s lower and s lower intervals . H e r

miss ion in this wor ld was t o u n i t e all t hose w h o passed t h r o u g h h e r

life, a n d tha t night w e all fel t she l te red b e n e a t h h e r s t a r ry wings,

i m m e r s e d in tha t p u r e s i lence w h e r e p e r h a p s angels re ign. Voices

b e c a m e m u r m u r s , t he shape of objec ts and t h e faces of o u r family

began t o fade , s i lhouet tes fu sed and b l e n d e d ; sudden ly I real ized

that o t h e r s w e r e a m o n g us. G r a n n y was t h e r e in h e r perca le dress

and m a r m a l a d e - s t a i n e d a p r o n , wi th h e r f r e sh s cen t of p l u m s a n d

large b l u e eyes. Tata, wi th his Basque b e r e t and r u s t i c cane was sit-

t ing in a cha i r near t h e b e d . Beside h i m , I saw a small, s l ender

w o m a n wi th Gypsy fea tures , w h o smiled at m e w h e n o u r glances

m e t : M e m e , I suppose , b u t I d i d n ' t da re speak t o h e r f o r fear s h e

wou ld s h i m m e r and vanish like a mirage. In o t h e r c o r n e r s of t h e

r o o m , I t h o u g h t I saw M a m a Hi lda w i t h h e r kn i t t ing in h e r hands ,

m y b r o t h e r J u a n , praying bes ide t he n u n s and ch i ld ren f r o m Paula 's

school in Madr id , my fa ther- in- law, still young , a n d a c o u r t of kindly

old p e o p l e f r o m the ger ia t r ic h o m e Paula used to visit in h e r chi ld-

h o o d . On ly a wh i l e later, t h e unmis t akab l e h a n d of T í o R a m ó n fell

on m y shoulder , and I clearly h e a r d Michae l ' s voice; to m y right, I

saw I l d e m a r o , looking at Paula w i t h t h e t e n d e r n e s s h e r e se rved jus t

f o r her . I felt E r n e s t o ' s p r e s e n c e mater ia l iz ing t h r o u g h the w i n d o w -

pane ; h e was ba re foo t , d r e s s e d in a ik ido a t t i re , a solid f igure t ha t

c rossed the r o o m w i t h o u t t o u c h i n g t h e floor a n d l eaned over t h e

b e d t o kiss his w i fe o n t h e Hps. " S o o n , my beau t i fu l girl; wa i t fo r m e

o n t h e o t h e r s ide , " he said, a n d r e m o v e d the cross he always w o r e

a n d p laced it a r o u n d he r neck . T h e n I h a n d e d h i m t h e w e d d i n g r ing

I had w o r n fo r exactly o n e year, a n d ; h e s l ipped it o n Paula 's fìnger,

as he had the day they w e r e m a r r i e d . T h e n I was again in t h e p o r -

t e n t o u s d r e a m I had in Spain, in t he s i lo -shaped t o w e r filled wi th

330 Isabel Allende

doves, but n o w my daugh te r w a s n ' t twelve, she was twen ty-e igh t

years young; she was n o t wea r ing h e r checked overcoa t b u t a wh i t e

tunic , and h e r ha i r was n o t pu l led back in to a ponyta i l b u t hang ing

loose to h e r shou lders . She began t o rise, a n d I wi th her, c l inging t o

t h e c lo th of h e r dress . Again I h e a r d M e m é ' s voice: No one can go

with her, she has drunk the potion of death. . . . Bu t I p u s h e d u p w a r d

w i t h my last s t r eng th a n d grasped h e r hand , d e t e r m i n e d n o t t o let

go, a n d w h e n w e r e a c h e d t h e t o p of t he t o w e r I saw t h e r o o f o p e n

and w e a scended together . O u t s i d e , it was already d a w n ; t h e sky was

s t r eaked wi th gold a n d the c o u n t r y s i d e b e n e a t h o u r f ee t g leamed ,

w a s h e d by a r e c e n t rain. We flew over valleys a n d hills, a n d finally

d e s c e n d e d in to a fo res t of anc i en t r e d w o o d s , w h e r e a b r e e z e rus t l ed

a m o n g the b r a n c h e s a n d a bo ld b i rd def ied w i n t e r w i t h i ts sol i tary

song. Paula p o i n t e d t o t he s t r eam; I saw f resh roses lying a long its

banks and a wh i t e p o w d e r of calc ined b o n e s o n t h e b o t t o m , a n d I

h e a r d t h e m u s i c of t housands of voices w h i s p e r i n g a m o n g t h e t rees ,

ï fel t myself s inking in to t ha t coo l water , and k n e w tha t t h e voyage

t h r o u g h pa in was e n d i n g in an abso lu te void. As I dissolved, I h a d

t h e revelat ion t ha t t h e void was filled wi th eve ry th ing t h e universe

holds . N o t h i n g a n d everything, at once . Sacramenta l light a n d

u n f a t h o m a b l e darkness . I a m t h e void, I a m eve ry th ing t h a t exists, I

a m in every leaf of t h e forest , in every d r o p of t h e dew, in e v e r y

par t ic le of ash ca r r i ed by t h e s t r eam, I a m Paula and I a m also

Isabel, I a m n o t h i n g and all o t h e r things in this l ife a n d o t h e r lives,

immor t a l .

G o d s p e e d , Paula, w o m a n .

W e l c o m e , Paula, spirit .