The body that for now you simply endure will be revealed to you by a man. You will grow up in the act of giving yourself to him, you will acquire your definitive form from his caresses.

The husband is the culmination of everything. To your longings, your pleasure, your empty spaces, he holds out fecundity. He will elevate you to the rank you are predestined for.

If the husband never arrives, then you’ve been left behind, niña quedada: resign yourself. Button up your blouse, lower your eyelids, hush. Don’t listen to the wood creaking in the rooms of those who sleep together; don’t feel the belly of the woman who has conceived a child; run from the “ay” of the woman in labor. The restlessness that pounds in your temples will one day turn into a fistful of ashes. Seek the protection of your brother when your hair grows grey. That is the man you must twine the clinging vine of your life around.

Neither your lap nor your hands will remain empty or idle. Household chores, other women’s babies, will besiege you until the day you die. And of all your coffins only the last one will be white.

Money. The dowry by which the father tries to cover up an excessive ugliness or a blemished virginity.

Money. The inheritance the relatives dispute around the dying man’s bed.

Money. Interminable litigations in order to gain possession of a strip of land or a property title. From one generation to the next, the lawsuit, the greed and the hatred are passed on.

Money. Because this year you can’t afford to spend a season in the lowlands. Because the girls want new dresses to show off at parties. Because the young men have had their first woman and are going out on sprees with their friends.

Money. Because the man of the house is making some risky business deals and the profits will come only in the long term. Money. Because he is making bets at the cockfighting arena, the casino’s gaming table. Money. Because he supports his mistresses and his bastard children. Money, money, money is the litany of the lady of the house. Because things are costing more and more and appearances have to be kept up and she doesn’t know what to do with so many trials and tribulations.

Money. The couple turn their backs on each other at night. People sit around a table in a threatening silence. Engagements are broken, friendships end, family ties cease to be acknowledged.

Money. The notary collects the last coins the doctor left you with. And you might hear the nails of your casket being pounded in. Because the heirs are impatient.