Cuadros de familia (2)

Would you please come back in a few minutes? The priest throws me out, he looks uptight, he has the same wilted face as in my childhood when he decided to become a priest. My father talks about death. Is it this you want, I ask. He gets infusions, he speaks more clearly. He will recover. In the room next door, he gently pets the shoulder of a man in a wheel-chair, comforting. The man looks like a highbrow, immobile, his hands trembling. Could you dial for me, he asks. I push the buttons, he speaks fast, the number recorded in his head.