“Get those bad thoughts out of your head；？he told her。 “You’re going to be happy。？
The friendship with Rebeca opened up to Pilar Ternera the doors of the house； closed by ？rsula since the birth of Arcadio。 She would arrive at any hour of the day； like a flock of goats； and would unleash her feverish energy in the hardest tasks。 Sometimes she would go into the workshop and help Arcadio sensitize the daguerreotype plates with an efficiency and a tenderness that ended up by confusing him。 That woman bothered him。 The tan of her skin； her smell of smoke； the disorder of her laughter in the darkroom distracted his attention and made him bump into things。
On a certain occasion Aureliano was there working on his silver； and Pilar Ternera leaned over the table to admire his laborious patience。 Suddenly it happened。 Aureliano made sure that Arcadio was in the darkroom before raising his eyes and meeting those of Pilar Ternera； whose thought was perfectly visible； as if exposed to the light of noon。
“Well；？Aureliano said。 “Tell me what it is。？
Pilar Ternera bit her lips with a sad smile。
“That you’d be good in a war；？she said。 “Where you put your eye； you put your bullet。？
Aureliano relaxed with the proof of the omen。 He went back to concentrate on his work as if nothing had happened； and his voice took on a restful strength。
“I will recognize him；？he said。 “He’ll bear my name。？
Jos？Arcadio Buendía finally got what he was looking for： he connected the mechanism of the clock to a mechanical ballerina； and the toy danced uninterruptedly to the rhythm of her own music for three days。 That discovery excited him much more than any of his other harebrained undertakings。 He stopped eating。 He stopped sleeping。 Only the vigilance and care of Rebeca kept him from being dragged off by his imagination into a state of perpetual delirium from which he would not recover。 He would spend the nights walking around the room thinking aloud； searching for a way to apply the principles of the pendulum to oxcarts； to harrows； to everything that was useful when put into motion。 The fever of insomnia fatigued him so much that one dawn he could not recognize the old man with white hair and uncertain gestures who came into his bedroom。 It was Prudencio Aguilar。 When he finally identified him； startled that the dead also aged； Jos？Arcadio Buendía felt himself shaken by nostalgia。 “Prudencio；？he exclaimed。 “You’ve e from a long way off！？After many years of death the yearning for the living was so intense； the need for pany so pressing； so terrifying the neatness of that other death which exists within death； that Prudencio Aguilar had ended up loving his worst enemy。 He had spent a great deal of time looking for him。 He asked the dead from Riohacha about him； the dead who came from the Upar Valley； those who came from the swamp； and no one could tell him because Macondo was a town that was unknown to the dead until Melquíades arrived and marked it with a small black dot on the motley maps of death。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía conversed with Prudencio Aguilar until dawn。 A few hours later； worn out by the vigil； he went into Aureliano’s workshop and asked him： “What day is today？？Aureliano told him that it was Tuesday。 “I was thinking the same thing；？Jos？Arcadio Buendía said； “but suddenly I realized that it’s still Monday； like yesterday。 Look at the sky； look at the walls； look at the begonias。 Today is Monday too。？Used to his manias； Aureliano paid no attention to him。 On the next day； Wednesday； Jos？Arcadio Buendía went back to the workshop。 “This is a disaster；？he said。 “Look at the air； listen to the buzzing of the sun； the same as yesterday and the day before。 Today is Monday too。？That night Pietro Crespi found him on the porch； weeping for Prudencio Aguilar； for Melquíades； for Rebeca’s parents； for his mother and father； for all of those he could remember and who were now alone in death。 He gave him a mechanical bear that walked on its hind legs on a tightrope； but he could not distract him from his obsession。 He asked him what had happened to the project he had explained to him a few days before about the possibility of building a pendulum machine that would help men to fly and he answered that it was impossible because a pendulum could lift anything into the air but it could not lift itself。 On Thursday he appeared in the workshop again with the painful look of plowed ground。 “The time machine has broken；？he almost sobbed； “and ？rsula and Amaranta so far away！？Aureliano scolded him like a child and he adopted a contrite air。 He spent six hours examining things； trying to find a difference from their appearance on the previous day in the hope of discovering in them some change that would reveal the passage of time。 He spent the whole night in bed with his eyes open； calling to Prudencio Aguilar； to Melquíades； to all the dead； so that they would share his distress。 But no one came。 On Friday。 before anyone arose； he watched the appearance of nature again until he did not have the slightest doubt but that it was Monday。 Then he grabbed the bar from a door and with the savage violence of his unmon strength he smashed to dust the equipment in the alchemy laboratory； the daguerreotype room； the silver workshop； shouting like a man possessed in some high…sounding and fluent but pletely inprehensible language。 He was about to finish off the rest of the house when Aureliano asked the neighbors for help。 Ten men were needed to get him down； fourteen to tie him up； twenty to drag him to the chestnut tree in the courtyard； where they left him tied up； barking in the strange language and giving off a green froth at the mouth。 When ？rsula and Amaranta returned he was still tied to the trunk of the chestnut tree by his hands and feet； soaked with rain and in a state of total innocence。 They spoke to him and he looked at them without recognizing them； saying things they did not understand。 ？rsula untied his wrists and ankles； lacerated by the pressure of the rope； and left him tied only by the waist。 Later on they built him a shelter of palm brandies to protect him from the sun and the rain。
Chapter 5
AURELIANO BUEND？A and Remedios Moscote were married one Sunday in March before the altar Father Nicanor Reyna had set up in the parlor。 It was the culmination of four weeks of shocks in the Moscote household because little Remedios had reached puberty before getting over the habits of childhood。 In spite of the fact that her mother had taught her about the changes of adolescence； one February afternoon she burst shouting into the living room； where her sisters were chatting with Aureliano； and showed them her panties； smeared with a chocolate…colored paste。 A month for the wedding was agreed upon。 There was barely enough time to teach her how to wash herself； get dressed by herself； and understand the fundamental business of a home。 They made her urinate over hot bricks in order to cure her of the habit of wetting her bed。 It took a good deal of work to convince her of the inviolability of the marital secret； for Remedios was so confused and at the same time so amazed at the revelation that she wanted to talk to everybody about the details of the wedding night。 It was a fatiguing effort； but on the date set for the ceremony the child was as adept in the ways of the world as any of her sisters。 Don Apolinar Moscote escorted her by the arm down the street that was decorated with flowers and wreaths amidst the explosion of rockets and the music of several bands； and she waved with her hand and gave her thanks with a smile to those who wished her good luck from the windows。 Aureliano； dressed in black； wearing the same patent leather boots with metal fasteners that he would have on a few years later as he faced the firing squad； had an intense paleness and a hard lump in his throat when he met the bride at the door of the house and led her to the altar。 She behaved as naturally； with such discretion； that she did not lose her posure； not even when Aureliano dropped the ring as he tried to put it on her finger。 In the midst of the。 murmurs and confusion of the guests； she kept her arm with the fingerless lace glove held up