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“We have to bring in the railroad,?he said.
That was the first time that the word had ever been heard in Macondo. Looking at the sketch that Aureliano
Triste drew on the table and that was a direct descendent of the plans with which Jos?Arcadio Buendaa had
illustrated his project for solar warfare, 2rsula confirmed her impression that time was going in a circle. But
unlike his forebear, Aureliano Triste did not lose any sleep or appetite nor did he torment anyone with crises of ill
humor, but he considered the most harebrained of projects as immediate possibilities, made rational calculations
about costs and dates, and brought them off without any intermediate exasperation. If Aureliano Segundo had
something of his great-grandfather in him and lacked something of Colonel Aureliano Buendaa, it was an
absolute indifference to mockery, and he gave the money to bring the railroad with the same lighthearted air with
which he had given it for his brother’s absurd navigation project. Aureliano Triste consulted the calendar and left
the following Wednesday,rose online zuly, planning to return after the rains had passed. There was no more news of him.
Aureliano Centeno, overwhelmed by the abundance of the factory, had already begun to experiment with the
production of ice with a base of fruit juices instead of water, and without knowing it or thinking about it, he
conceived the essential fundamentals for the invention of sherbet. In that way he planned to diversify the
production of an enterprise he considered his own, because his brother showed no signs of returning after the
rains had passed and a whole summer had gone by with no news of him. At the start of another winter, however,cheap rs gold,
a woman who was washing clothes in the river during the hottest time of the day ran screaming down the main
street in an alarming state of commotion.
“It’s coming,?she finally explained. “Something frightful, like a kitchen dragging a village behind it.?
At that moment the town was shaken by a whistle with a fearful echo and a loud, panting respiration. During
the previous weeks they had seen the gangs who were laying ties and tracks and no one paid attention to them
because they thought it was some new trick of the gypsies,cheap silkroad gold, coming back with whistles and tambourines and their
age-old and discredited song and dance about the qualities of some concoction put together by journeyman
geniuses of Jerusalem. But when they recovered from the noise of the whistles and the snorting, all the
inhabitants ran out into the street and saw Aureliano Triste waving from the locomotive, and in a trance they saw
the flower-bedecked train which was arriving for the first time eight months late. The innocent yellow train that
was to bring so many ambiguities and certainties, so many pleasant and unpleasant moments,shaiya money, so many changes,
calamities, and feelings of nostalgia to Macondo.
Chapter 12
DAZZLED BY SO MANY and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo did not know where their
amazement began. They stayed up all night looking at the pale electric bulbs fed by the plant that Aureliano
Triste had brought back when the train made its second trip, and it took time and effort for them to grow
accustomed to its obsessive toom-toom. They be. came indignant over the living images that the prosperous

kingdom, in spite of the fact that her father, Don Fernando, had to mortgage the house in order to buy her
trousseau. It was not innocence or delusions of grandeur. That was how they had brought her up. Since she had
had the use of reason she remembered having done her duty in a gold pot with the family crest on it. She left the
house for the first time at the age of twelve in a coach and horses that had to travel onl y two blocks to take her to
the convent. Her classmates were surprised that she sat apart from them in a chair with a very high back and that
she would not even mingle with them during recess. “She’s different,?the nuns would explain. “She’s going to be
a queen.?Her schoolmates believed this because she was already the most beautiful, distinguished, and discreet
girl they had ever seen. At the end of eight years, after having learned to write Latin poetry,buy rose zulie, play the clavichord,
talk about falconry with gentlemen and apologetics, with archbishops, discuss affairs of state with foreign rulers
and affairs of God with the Pope,cheap rs gold, she returned to her parents?home to weave funeral wreaths. She found it
despoiled. All that was left was the furniture that was absolutely necessary, the silver candelabra and table
service, for the everyday utensils had been sold one by one to underwrite the costs of her education. Her mother
had succumbed to five-o’clock fever. Her father, Don Fernando, dressed in black with a stiff collar and a gold
watch chain, would give her a silver coin on Mondays for the household expenses, and the funeral wreaths
finished the week before would be taken away. He spent most of his time shut up in his study and the few times
that he went out he would return to recite the rosary with her. She had intimate friendships with no one. She had
never heard mention of the wars that were bleeding the country. She continued her piano lessons at three in the
afternoon. She had even began to lose the illusion of being a queen when two peremptory raps of the knocker
sounded at the door and she opened it to a well-groomed military officer with ceremonious manners who had a
scar on his cheek and a gold medal on his chest. He closeted himself with her father in the study. Two hours later
her father came to get her in the sewing room. “Get your things together,?he told her. “You have to take a long
trip.?That was how they took her to Macondo. In one single day, with a brutal slap, life threw on top of her the
whole weight of a reality that her parents had kept hidden from her for many years. When she returned home she
shut herself up in her room to weep,cheap flyff money, indifferent to Don Fernando’s pleas and explanations as he tried to erase the
scars of that strange joke. She had sworn to herself never to leave her bedroom until she died when Aureliano
Segundo came to get her. It was an act of impossible fate, because in the confusion of her indignation, in the fury
of her shame, she had lied to him so that he would never know her real identity. The only real clues that
Aureliano Segundo had when he left to look for her were her unmistakable highland accent and her trade as a
weaver of funeral wreaths. He searched for her without cease. With the fierce temerity with which Jos?Arcadio
Buendaa had crossed the mountains to found Macondo, with the blind pride with which Colonel Aureliano
Buendaa had undertaken his fruitless wars, with the mad tenacity with which 2rsula watched over the survival of
the line, Aureliano Segundo looked for Fernanda,cheap rose zuly, without a single moment of respite. When he asked where they
sold funeral wreaths they took him from house to house so that he could choose the best ones. When he asked for
the most beautiful woman who had ever been seen on this earth, all the women brought him their daughters. He
became lost in misty byways, in times reserved for oblivion, in labyrinths of disappointment. He crossed a
yellow plain where the echo repeated one’s thoughts and where anxiety brought on premonitory mirages. After
sterile weeks he came to an unknown city where all the bells were tolling a dirge. Although he had never seen
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doctor.?he said. “The important thing is that from now on we’ll be fighting only for power.?Still smiling, he took
the documents the delegates gave him and made ready to sign them.
“Since that’s the way it is,?he concluded, “we have no objection to accepting.?
His men looked at one another in consternation. “Excuse me, colonel,?Colonel Gerineldo Mrquez said softly,cheap runescape money,
“but this is a betrayal.?
Colonel Aureliano Buendaa held the inked pen in the air and discharged the whole weight of his authority on
him.
“Surrender your weapons,?he ordered.
Colonel Gerineldo Mrquez stood up and put his sidearms on the table.
“Report to the barracks,?Colonel Aureliano Buendaa ordered him. “Put yourself at the disposition of the
revolutionary court.?
Then he signed the declaration and gave the sheets of paper to the emissaries, saying to them:
“Here an your papers, gentlemen. I hope you can get some advantage out of them.?
Two days later, Colonel Gerineldo Mrquez, accused of high treason, was condemned to death. Lying in his
hammock, Colonel Aureliano Buendaa was insensible to the pleas for clemency. On the eve of the execution,
disobeying the order not to bother him, 2rsula visited him in his bedroom. Encased in black,flyff penya, invested with a rare
solemnity, she stood during the three minutes of the interview. “I know that you’re going to shoot Gerineldo,?she
said calmly, “and that I can’t do anything to stop it. But I give you one warning: as soon as I see his body I swear
to you by the bones of my father and mother, by the memory of Jos?Arcadio Buendaa,cheap rs gold, I swear to you before God
that I will drag you out from wherever you’re hiding and kill you with my own two hands.?Before leaving the
room, without waiting for any reply, she concluded:
“It’s the same as if you’d been born with the tail of a pig.?
During that interminable night while Colonel Gerineldo Mrquez thought about his dead afternoons in
Amaranta’s sewing room, Colonel Aureliano Buendaa scratched for many hours trying to break the hard shell of
his solitude. His only happy moments, since that remote afternoon when his father had taken him to see ice, had
taken place in his silver workshop where he passed the time putting little gold fishes together. He had had to start
thirty-two wars and had had to violate all of his pacts with death and wallow like a hog in the dungheap of glory
in order to discover the privileges of simplicity almost forty years late.
At dawn, worn out by the tormented vigil,runescape power leveling, he appeared in the cell an hour before the execution. “The farce is
over, old friend,?he said to Colonel Gerineldo Mrquez. “Let’s get out of here before the mosquitoes in here
execute you.?Colonel Gerineldo Mrquez could not repress the disdain that was inspired in him by that attitude.
“No, Aureliano,?he replied. “I’d rather be dead than see you changed into a bloody tyrant.?
“You won’t see me,?Colonel Aureliano Buendaa said. “Put on your shoes and help me get this shitty war over
with.?
When he said it he did not know that it was easier to start a war than to end one. It took him almost a year of
fierce and bloody effort to force the government to propose conditions of peace favorable to the rebels and
another year to convince his own partisans of the convenience of accepting them. He went to inconceivable
extremes of cruelty to put down the rebellion of his own officers, who resisted and called for victory, and he
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Not all the news was good. A year after the flight of Colonel Aureliano Buendaa, Jos?Arcadio and Rebeca
went to live in the house Arcadio had built. No one knew about his intervention to halt the execution. In the new
house, located on the best corner of the square, in the shade of an almond tree that was honored by three nests of
redbreasts, with a large door for visitors and four windows for light, they set up a hospitable home. Rebeca’s old
friends, among them four of the Moscote sisters who were still single, once more took up the sessions of
embroidery that had been interrupted years before on the porch with the begonias. Jos?Arcadio continued to
profit from the usurped lands, the title to which was recognized by the Conservative government. Every
afternoon he could be seen returning on horseback, with his hunting dogs and his double-barreled shotgun and a
string of rabbits hanging from his saddle. One September afternoon, with the threat of a storm,buy aion kina, he returned home
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earlier than usual. He greeted Rebeca in the dining room, tied the dogs up in the courtyard, hung the rabbits up in
the kitchen to be salted later, and went to the bedroom to change his clothes. Rebeca later declared that when her
husband went into the bedroom she was locked in the bathroom and did not hear anything. It was a difficult
version to believe, but there was no other more plausible, and no one could think of any motive for Rebeca to
murder the man who had made her happy. That was perhaps the only mystery that was never cleared up in
Macondo. As soon as Jos?Arcadio closed the bedroom door the sound of a pistol shot echoed through the house.
A trickle of blood came out under the door, crossed the living room, went out into the street, continued on in a
straight line across the uneven terraces, went down steps and climbed over curbs, passed along the Street of the
Turks, turned a corner to the right and another to the left, made a right angle at the Buendaa house, went in under
the closed door, crossed through the parlor, hugging the walls so as not to stain the rugs, went on to the other
living room, made a wide curve to avoid the dining-room table, went along the porch with the begonias,wow gold, and
passed without being seen under Amaranta’s chair as she gave an arithmetic lesson to Aureliano Jos?, and went
through the pantry and came out in the kitchen, where 2rsula was getting ready to crack thirty-six eggs to make
bread.
“Holy Mother of God!?2rsula shouted.
She followed the thread of blood back along its course, and in search of its origin she went through the pantry,cheap rs gold,
along the begonia porch where Aureliano Jos?was chanting that three plus three is six and six plus three is nine,
and she crossed the dining room and the living rooms and followed straight down the street, and she turned first
to the right and then to the left to the Street of the Turks, forgetting that she was still wearing her baking apron
and her house slippers,cheap age of conan gold, and she came out onto the square and went into the door of a house where she had never
been, and she pushed open the bedroom door and was almost suffocated by the smell of burned gunpowder, and
she found Jos?Arcadio lying face down on the ground on top of the leggings he had just taken off, and she saw
the starting point of the thread of blood that had already stopped flowing out of his right ear. They found no
wound on his body nor could they locate the weapon. Nor was it possible to remove the smell of powder from
the corpse. First they washed him three times with soap and a scrubbing brush, and they rubbed him with salt and

classroom, the stumbling against benches, and finally the bulk of a body in the shadows of the room and the
breathing of air that was pumped by a heart that was not his. He stretched out his hand and found another hand
with two rings on the same finger about to go astray in the darkness. He felt the structure of the veins, the pulse
of its misfortune, and felt the damp palm with a lifeline cut off at the base of the thumb by the claws of death.
Then he realized that this was not the woman he was waiting for,cheap rs gold, because she did not smell of smoke but of
flower lotion, and she had inflated, blind breasts with nipples like. a man’s, a sex as stony and round as a nut,warcraft gold, and
the chaotic tenderness of excited inexperience. She was a virgin and she had the unlikely name of Santa Sofaa de
la Piedad. Pilar Ternera had paid her fifty pesos, half of her life savings, to do what she was doing. Arcadio, had
seen her many times working in her parents?small food store but he had never taken a good look at her because
she had that rare virtue of never existing completely except at the opportune moment. But from that day on he
huddled like a cat in the warmth of her armpit She would go to the school at siesta time with the consent of her
parents, to whom Pilar Ternera hid paid the other half of her savings. Later on, when the government troops
dislodged them from the place where they had made love, they did it among the cans of lard and sacks of corn in
the back of the store. About the time that Arcadio was named civil and military leader they had a daughter.
The only relatives who knew about it were Jos?Arcadio and Rebeca, with whom Arcadio maintained close
relations at that time, based not so much on kinship as on complicity. Jos?Arcadio had put his neck into the
marital yoke. Rebeca’s firm character, the voracity of her stomach,ro zeny, her tenacious ambition absorbed the
tremendous energy of her husband, who had been changed from a lazy,cheap runescape money, woman-chasing man into an enormous
work animal. They kept a clean and neat house. Rebeca would open it wide at dawn and the wind from the
graveyard would come in through the windows and go out through the doors to the yard and leave the
whitewashed walls and furniture tanned by the saltpeter of the dead. Her hunger for earth, the cloc-cloc of her
parents?bones, the impatience of her blood as it faced Pietro Crespi’s passivity were relegated to the attic of her
memory. All day long she would embroider beside the window, withdrawn from the uneasiness of the war, until
the ceramic pots would begin to vibrate in the cupboard and she would get up to warm the meal, much before the
appearance, first, of the mangy hounds, and then of the colossus in leggings and spurs with a double-barreled
shotgun, who sometimes carried a deer on his shoulder and almost always a string of rabbits or wild ducks. One
afternoon, at the beginning of his rule, Arcadio paid them a surprise visit. They had not seen him since they had
left the house, but he seemed so friendly and familiar that they invited him to share the stew.
Only when they were having coffee did Arcadio reveal the motive behind his visit: he had received a
complaint against Jos?Arcadio. It was said that he had begun by plowing his own yard and had gone straight
ahead into neighboring lands, knocking down fences and buildings with his oxen until he took forcible
possession of the best plots of land around. On the peasants whom he had not despoiled because he was not
interested in their lands, he levied a contribution which he collected every Saturday with his hunting dogs and his
double-barreled shotgun. He did not deny it. He based his right on the fact that the usurped lands had been
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Aureliano, who had also taught him how to read and write. 2rsula suddenly realized that the house had become
full of people, that her children were on the point of marrying and having children, and that they would be
obliged to scatter for lack of space. Then she took out the money she had accumulated over long years of hard
labor,buy star wars galaxies credits, made some arrangements with her customers, and undertook the enlargement of the house. She had a
formal parlor for visits built, another one that was more comfortable and cool for daily use, a dining room with a
table with twelve places where the family could sit with all of their guests,cheap rs gold, nine bedrooms with windows on the
courtyard and a long porch protected from the heat of noon by a rose garden with a railing on which to place pots
of ferns and begonias. She had the kitchen enlarged to hold two ovens. The granary where Pilar Ternera had read
Jos?Arcadio’s future was torn down and another twice as large built so that there would never be a lack of food
in the house. She had baths built is the courtyard in the shade of the chestnut tree, one for the women and another
for the men, and in the rear a large stable, a fenced-in chicken yard, a shed for the milk cows, and an aviary open
to the four winds so that wandering birds could roost there at their pleasure. Followed by dozens of masons and
carpenters, as if she had contracted her husband’s hallucinating fever, 2rsula fixed the position of light and heat
and distributed space without the least sense of its limitations. The primitive building of the founders became
filled with tools and materials, of workmen exhausted by sweat, who asked everybody please not to molest them,
exasperated by the sack of bones that followed them everywhere with its dull rattle. In that discomfort,buy warhammer online gold, breathing
quicklime and tar, no one could see very well how from the bowels of the earth there was rising not only the
largest house is the town,runescape money, but the most hospitable and cool house that had ever existed in the region of the
swamp. Jos?Buendaa, trying to surprise Divine Providence in the midst of the cataclysm, was the one who least
understood it. The new house was almost finished when 2rsula drew him out of his chimerical world in order to
inform him that she had an order to paint the front blue and not white as they had wanted. She showed him the
official document. Jos?Arcadio Buendaa, without understanding what his wife was talking about, deciphered the
signature.
“Who is this fellow??he asked:
“The magistrate,?2rsula answered disconsolately. They say he’s an authority sent by the government.?
Don Apolinar Moscote, the magistrate, had arrived in Macondo very quietly. He put up at the Hotel Jacob?a
built by one of the first Arabs who came to swap knickknacks for macaws?aand on the following day he rented a
small room with a door on the street two blocks away from the Buendaa house. He set up a table and a chair that
he had bought from Jacob, nailed up on the wall the shield of the republic that he had brought with him, and on
the door he painted the sign: Magistrate. His first order was for all the houses to be painted blue in celebration of
the anniversary of national independence. Jos?Arcadio Buendaa, with the copy of the order in his hand, found
him taking his nap in a hammock he had set up in the narrow office. “Did you write this paper??he asked him.
Don Apolinar Moscote, a mature man, timid, with a ruddy complexion, said yes. “By what right??Jos?Arcadio
Buendaa asked again. Don Apolinar Moscote picked up a paper from the drawer of the table and showed it to
him. “I have been named magistrate of this town.?Jos?Arcadio Buendaa did not even look at the appointment.