Chapter 36

La Sinfonía Verde de la Envidia

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Part 1

La Sinfonía del Pecado y el Rey del Compás

Buenos Aires, Summer 1935

“Mi Argentina Bella, siempre serás mi más bello error.”

The aftermath of Gardel’s tragic accident, leading to the loss of national identity, brewed a new problem. The scarcity of desire manifested in women mourning Gardel’s death as if their loved ones had gone to war to never return. The rich mourned clutching their pearls as they listened to his music on those sophisticated vinyl record players, as they clutched a white silk handkerchief on the other. Meanwhile, the “milk extractors” and the working-class women carried a white cotton handkerchief with a red kiss in the middle. A tribute to the man that had made them feel tingles between their legs.

The men, on the other hand, were less interested in pursuing liaisons of any type, they began frequenting bars and other cabarets, which led to violent brawls, the outburst of testosterone that had been building for weeks, mixed with the stored milk as many had not been ordained by the milk extractors. And requesting certain things from their wives was unacceptable.

Meanwhile, the streets did not ask for permission to live again. It began in small fragments. One heel there, another heel over there, a rond de jambe, a tight embrace that made the chandeliers tremble and the marble floors remember why they were alive.

The low murmur of the violin, accompanied by the moaning of the bandoneón, calling patrons to the dance floor.

“Come here” —

The soundtrack of the streets serenaded those that were out for the night, in the dark corners of the ports of Buenos Aires, in clandestine cabarets where milongas were danced in hungry unison, the music of Juan d’Arienzo slowly made its way as an alternative to Gardel.

Juan D’Arienzo injected the city with the energy that it needed to survive its tragic destiny. It broke social ranks, as it merged nostalgia with faster rhythms which packed the milongas, especially the social clubs like the Pabellón de las Rosas and the Jockey Club. He was the hot new thing, while Carlos Gardel was old and fancy.

They called him the King of the Beat, as he was the equalizer of the masses, the opiate of the rich, and the godfather to the new social battlefield. Immigrant neighborhoods attracted more inhabitants, expanding their zoning into the middle-class areas, as more rural migrants started pouring in from the Pampas and other areas looking for a golden opportunity to make more than ends meet.

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Part 2

La Sirena de la Envidia

Buenos Aires, Avenida Corrientes, The Marabú Club, Summer 1935

“La envidia se viste de seda verde, y te envuelve.”

Victoria Ocampo had played a role in introducing Angelica to the purest forms of tango, from the milongas performed in the muelles to taking her to the small cabarets in the most secluded little corners of Avenida Corrientes.

The nightlife was colorful with a myriad of theater performances, cinemas playing Gardel’s old movies, and some golden Hollywood treasures, to the alluring seduction of the new tango culture that fused the masses.

The jailaifes pounced on the milk extractors, causing strife, while their women began a silent class war against the impure and vulgar working-class women. While the malevos changed tactics, as since there were a few pretty girls from the rich side. Divided by wealth, but united by sexual tension and tango. The compadritos, on the other hand, saw the need to protect their women from being used and discarded by the jailaifes, as they knew that no rich boy would marry them.

Those rich jailaifes think of our women as disposable wrappers that they can crinkle once they take the candy out.—

While Juan D’Arienzo’s orchestra played its seductive tango suite, the men stood up from their tables, scanning the room for the most beautiful woman in the room to dance with. Tango had turned into a mating ritual. It did not discriminate partners based on wealth or social status.

It leveled the playing field, equalizing sexual tension into just mere attraction. The rhythm of the violins playfully toying with the bandoneón, ecstatic moans did not falter, but it only shifted the sound as if the bodies were floating away from the dance floor.

Angelica observed the social interaction with inquisitive curiosity. As she was taking notes in her journal, her eyes stopped on a pair of shiny dancing shoes.

I have never seen you here, I was wondering if perhaps you’d like to dance with me—asked the man behind the shoes nervously.

Angelica lifted her deep brown eyes, as a strand of her wavy curls covered her forehead, before she could say anything, she was caught off guard with how handsome the man was. Swarthy skin that resembled café con leche, eyes big and black as the night itself, broad shoulders and a chest that screamed lay your head to rest.

I… am not sure if I can dance like that, truth is I don’t know how to dance—responded Angelica timidly.

I don’t see a problem with that, I can teach you, by the way I am Alberto—

As the music changed to a mixture between foxtrot, tango, and waltz with a romantic twist, the lighting in the Marabú was dimmed down.

Come on, I know you can waltz, don’t make me beg.

Okay, let’s dance, but I am not responsible for my bad dancing—.

Back home in Sinaloa, her tías had made sure she would at least dance the waltz, so she danced in Alberto’s arms with the grace of a swan, while the snake pit began to murmur.

Why is she dancing with a compadrito! Her father would disapprove!—

Who cares, look at how handsome he is—.

Remember, we do not mix with those men, they are as bad as the milk extractors!

We are not even the same species as them! They are impure, they pollute!— said the head of the snake pit.

They are talking about us—does it bother you?

No—, but why did you ask me to dance?—.

Because… I can tell you are not like those snakes—

The music changed again, as Desde el Alma began to play, Alberto pulled Angelica closer to him, placing his hand on the small of her back, gyrating her gently.

Move with me, don’t be afraid, let the music guide your body—

Angelica surrendered gently to the music, she was caught between control and shame. A combination that was unusual for her to feel. These feelings confused her, as she didn’t know if she was embarrassed or slightly aroused by this masculinity that was intoxicating.

As the crescendos in the tempo sped up, each pivot loosened her inhibitions more, she then understood why these women hated the milk extractors.

This is about control! This is about feelings and competition! If they do not control society, they don’t live!—thought Angelica.

Anything wrong? I lost you for a second—

I am here, I was just thinking something—

And with a passionate embrace, the first note of envy was played.

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Part 3

El Primer Espejo

The music changed again, as the first note of envy lingered in the air, it did not settle, its power was carried through the room by the embrace of warm bodies, moving as one. The elegance of faking decorum as the unison of emotional turmoil flowed without hesitation from heel to heel.

Whispers grew louder in the snake pit, murmurs of tainted lineages, polluted social standing, and loss of identity were heard at every single table where the opulent were sitting. Meanwhile, the milk extractors and the working-class women had their eyes set like fire on Angelica.

Who is that fancy stick with tits dancing with one of our men?—

I don’t know, but I heard her dad is loaded..—

Isn’t she too dark to be one of them?—

You are right, her skin is like ash!

You mean filthy and you find it on the floor?

Or at the bottom of pots…

I think she is very pretty, she looks exotic like one of those ladies in those Arabian tales or maybe Chinese.

Chinese women aren’t women, they are flat and ugly—.

Well… he seems to be intoxicated by her beauty, he hasn’t asked any of us to dance—

You are right, he has been with her all night.

Who is she?—

As the milk extractors and working women kept their eyes on Angelica’s every move, Alberto noticed and shot them a look which caused the women to bow their heads down.

You are the envy of both sides of the room—

Angelica looked puzzled. About that, I am different, I am aware of that. But you see, I do not need their permission to exist.

As Alberto guided her through a round turn, his hand firm on her back, and sniffed her hair, while his other hand gently caressed her long wavy locks. His breath was steady, but his pulse gave away his nervousness. He smiled.

You take my breath away, and make my heart skip a beat—

Their bodies moved as one with the music, as the tempo in the ascendos and crescendos sped up, he picked her up by her waist, slowly lowering her without keeping his eyes off her perfect figure.

He was drawn by her scent of vanilla, lavender, and gardenias.

“Tesoro mío, fueron momentos lejos de tu corazón, quítame este tormento con solo un beso.”

I think I am falling in love with you, señorita of the red lips and big brown eyes.

I am going over there, I cannot take this anymore, he needs to stop dancing with her!—

A woman in a green taffeta dress with white gloves and stockings named Amelia approached them.

Am I interrupting something? Little girl, you shouldn’t dance with men that aren’t yours..—

Excuse me?—

Move—he does not belong to you. Or your kind— screamed Amelia as she grabbed Angelica’s wrist.

Are you demented? You and I are nothing—. Barked Alberto as he grabbed Amelia’s wrist violently, forcing her to drop Angelica’s wrist.

You are hurting me—

I don’t know you, or why you are acting like this, but you shouldn’t embarrass yourself, responded Angelica by softly resting her hand on Amelia.

The polished ballroom floor shook violently as if time itself had stopped, Amelia’s smile had vanished, leaving a twisted expression on her face. As she turned away, disturbed by what had occurred, her mind began to drift away.

As if her aura had been drained, she became lost in her thoughts, confronting what she had felt when she saw Alberto dancing with that stick with tits. Why did it bother her? Was that envy? Jealousy? Resentment?

Angelica did not feed on being the object of desire or the cause of gossip. She fed on what that exposed about the ones that gossiped, the ones that desired what others had, the ones that wanted to be who they were not, the ones that coveted without hard work.

Angelica finally understood her place in the world, and how she was ruled by the laws of karma and the universe.

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Part 4

La Envidia y La Codicia visten del mismo color verde

Avenida Corrientes y Maipú, Summer 1935

“La envidia y la codicia sirven al mismo amo.”

It’s been a while since my last feeding, I am beginning to sense rot and decay in the deepest corners of this city. It is as if I am almost back home in Storyville. The stench of the greedy, the ones that exploit the needy and take advantage of the voiceless.

The city is drenched in this foul yellowish rancid smell of greed, said Aimee to Ethel Bourbon as she was feeling restless inside of the cold walls of the Palacio Hume.

Ethel, care to stroll around the streets to see what we find?

Ethel meowed in disagreement as he wasn’t in the mood to roam around due to the humidity of the night.

What if I offered a feast? We can stop by the docks and get you some tasty fish?

Ethel raised his head, as his pointy ears stood in attention.

Ah, that’s got you? So is that a yes?

Ethel meowed back, walking towards Aimee with his tail swaying back and forth.

Tonight I must look delectable, we never know what we might find. Aimee started looking at the closet full of fancy dresses that she had bought along with the jewelry that Mylène had gifted her. The signature jewel black iris choker that was her favorite, along with her white and green gardenia brooch. It made her feel expensive.

This would do!—exclaimed Aimee excited as she pulled a silk and black dress with its respective black satin gloves.

Now the real question, Ethel, what shoes to wear!

Ethel walked to her closet, laying down on a pair of black satin shoes with a green emerald around a silk bow.

Ethel, you are a genius!

Dressed to the nines, Aimee and Ethel ventured on a journey to find the rotten along Avenida Corrientes and Maipú.

When they reached Avenida Corrientes, Aimee stopped for a second, noticing the vibrant neon lights, the signs in the cabarets that promised a night of bliss outside of the skirts of passion. Women dressed very differently in accordance to their social status. The working class and milk extractors wore provocative attire that fit the body and was snatched, while the rich snake pit wore silk, furs, pearls, and semi-cinched dresses, mostly around the waist.

The cafes were full with men enjoying pastries and sweets while discussing politics and the Red State. However, conversations were controlled by the presence of state police to crush dissent that could be a threat. They saw the rantings and ramblings of the elite as the cries of spoiled children that could not get their way.

Meanwhile, in the theaters, men took women to be courted along with their chaperones. Not a single kiss could bypass the contractual agreements that were made by the chaperones on behalf of the absent parents. Public displays of affection were discouraged by the Women’s Committee and the Manifesto of the appropriate social norms.

Anything that could tarnish a woman’s reputation and market value was not just frowned upon but also forbidden by the strict moral code.

However, this repression could not diminish nor erase the feelings of yearning and desire that were always present in the form of lust, infatuation, and sexual tension. Even in the polished ballrooms like the Pabellón de las Rosas, or even in the Marabú, men were primal and women were prey.

The green smoke and gold dust coming out from the Marabú club made Aimee decide that this was the place to explore for the night, as Ethel crawled into the pocket inside of herself, she was ready to go inside.

Señorita, no cats can come in.—

Aimee looked at the man and said yes, he will come in as her eyes hypnotized him.

Yes, we let cats in, my bad, señorita—

When Aimee was finally inside, she noticed a woman of long wavy curls, exotic looks, and red lips dancing with a working-class man. As she set her eyes on what the woman was wearing, from her expensive jewelry to her noble features, she noticed that the women on both sides of the room were covered by a green cloud, almost as rotten as the stench of greed.

I wonder who she is—she doesn’t seem to care that her dance partner is poor. But what is interesting is the behavior of those women.

Angelica noticed Aimee’s big black eyes studying her, returning Aimee’s gaze she smiled as if telling Aimee, I know who you are and why you are here.

Ethel, did you see that? She can see you and see me!

Ethel purred as he jumped off Aimee’s dress pocket, walking slowly to Angelica.

What is a cat doing inside of this joint? Do you want to dance with us, fella?—said Alberto as he petted Ethel.

He’s adorable, I have never seen a cat with eyes as green as emeralds—

While Ethel was entertained with Alberto and Angelica, Aimee’s eyes shifted colors, as the stench of exploited women and their exploiters grew closer, she saw a group of men exchanging wealth. She quickly recognized them as the Zwi Migdal.

Ah, these women are prostitutes, just like my poor sisters back home, taken advantage by that despicable Lulu White.—

Well, I guess I found my next place to feed.

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Part 5

El Axis del Karma

Midnight at the Marabú Club, Summer 1935

“The world does not stop or forgive, those who defy its universal laws.”

As the night transcended, patrons came and went, a myriad of women were exchanged in clandestine transactions between the Zwi Migdal, and those unmilked men of stiff jackets, and fake decorum.

Aimee’s eyes grew wider while the stench became fouler, the cloud of green aura started to fill the room in its entirety, carrying the colorful smoke all the way to the Palacio Hume.

My little black Iris found a feeding den with rotten souls—

Everything looked so small from the tower windows of the Palacio Hume, which later was known as the Residencia Maguire after Susana Duhau and her husband John Walter Maguire inherited the house after it was sold to them sometime in 1920.

She soon noticed the gigantic green cloud of smoke that changed hues to a yellowish hue, the larger it grew the more it smelled as if something was dying inside. The foul stench of rot, envy masked as desire.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife—Mylène thought to herself, as this applies to many things. Thou shalt not covet. The universal law of karmic balance had been altered, and now balance must be restored.

But first, the wheel of samsara must run its course.

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Part 6

The Universe Recognizes Itself

As Mylène departed from the Palacio Hume, a black crow followed her, circling around the Avenida Corrientes. Music poured in and out of cabarets, while cafes carried late-night conversations where only men were present, as no ladies were allowed to be out without the proper chaperone, except for the milk extractors and the working-class women.

The crow stopped by the window in the Marabú Club, as that is where the green cloud of smoke was the strongest. The green aura pulsated as Mylène entered the club. She noticed Aimee and Ethel in one corner observing the men in the stiff suits as they sold off women to the highest bidder for the night.

I see you made your night and you have finally seen her—

She can see me! And she can see Ethel! Who is she!

That is your parallel, your sister sin—and I am the universal law that you used to judge—

So she is me and I am her?—

You are dichotomies, but not the same—in due time you will meet her—

When, Mother Universe?

Soon, my child, soon—

Angelica and Alberto had finally sat down after dancing for hours, Victoria was gathering Angelica’s things when she sensed something in the room which she understood was part of a bigger picture.

Turning her eyes to Mylène and Aimee, she nodded as if to say, I am the embodiment of your will.

🕯️ Felt the pull? Let her haunt someone new.
If this chapter moved you, pass it on.
One soul. One shadow. One whisper.
Mylène remembers the ones who speak her name.

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