La Iguana

Waking from his nap at midday, Saulo noticed his phone had lost Wi-Fi. Ugh, what a pain this phone is, he thought while checking the settings. He quickly realized there were no available networks. Before getting up, he wondered if the router had shut off.

He tossed off the blanket and placed his feet on the icy floor. It was already spring, but the apartment tiles stayed always cold. Gazing into the surrounding darkness, he questioned why to get out of bed. Without giving himself more time to think, he walked to the living room and found the power strip dead. Ah, the breaker must’ve tripped, he concluded confidently, only to find the breaker was still on. Memories of the last blackout he experienced before emigrating flooded his mind. He knew he had to ask the neighbors if they had power, like people did back home to confirm the problem wasn’t just theirs. He decided to get ready to meet Erhard and, once outside, he’d knock next door. He didn’t want to waste much time: if the power was out, surely it’d be back by the time he returned in the afternoon.

As soon as he stepped out, he saw the emergency lights were on. He realized the power was out in the entire building. To confirm, he tried calling the elevator, with no response. More relaxed now, knowing it was a shared problem, and hoping someone else would fix it, he walked down the stairs calmly. Just before leaving, he found the mailman waiting at the door. The buzzer didn’t work, so he couldn’t ask to be let in. After opening the door, as the man rushed past him, Saulo commented that the building had lost power. The mailman curtly replied: “Yeah, the whole area.” So the whole neighborhood’s out, interesting, Saulo thought as he stepped outside. Only at the first crosswalk, with the traffic lights dead and pedestrians hesitantly crossing, he realised the scale of the issue.

He started hurrying along the avenue. Erhard lived near the Colombia station; he could take Line 9, but the nearest station was a 10-minute walk. Each step brought more snippets of confused conversations: “France, Italy, Germany, Holland”, “Cyberattack”, “The Russians”, “Act of war”. As Saulo briskly walked to the metro, his mind drifted. Maybe I should try writing to Elena, see how she’s doing, he thought.

The metro sign, with its distinctive red diamond, came into view. Only then did Saulo realize that with no power, there is no metro. Luckily, the 147 bus stopped nearby, right across from that metro station. Maybe it’s risky taking a car now, without traffic lights, he thought, but he was willing to risk it to make it by 1:30PM, as agreed. He hopped on the bus the moment it arrived. It wasn’t long before stops and starts began: misunderstandings between the driver and pedestrians about whose turn it was. Still, with 50 minutes left, Saulo thought he’d make it in time. But then the driver merged into a sea of cars clogging the Sinesio Delgado. Normally a quiet street, it had become a pool of stalled vehicles. Each few meters took minutes, and by the final stop, the bus was as packed with people as the street was with cars. Choking on the crowd and frustrated by traffic, Saulo grew impatient. He knew he wouldn’t make it like this, but wasn’t sure what to do. Suddenly, a girl asked the driver to open the door, even though they were still 100 meters from the next stop. He, giving in, did. In a moment of impulse, Saulo jumped off the bus.

Turning back, he saw the dense forest of passengers staying put, unable to walk or hoping things would improve. He turned again and kept walking, unsure of what exactly he’d do. Ten minutes to the tower, twenty more to Plaza de Castilla, at least twenty to Cuzco, and fifteen to Colombia: an hour or so to Erhard’s place, he quickly calculated and picked up the pace.

Walking along the Sinesio Delgado, he glanced toward the Parque de la Ventilla and saw crowds of people and dogs. Those with nothing better to do had decided to pass the time with their pets. Saulo kept walking until he spotted some young men in a white car lowering their window and making signs to the driver next to them. The guy in the front seat took out his fist and started moving it, proposing a game of rock-paper-scissors to the other driver. He threw out paper and lost. Everyone laughed. The souls stranded in the Styx, or in the Sinesio, turn playful, Saulo smirked snobbishly.

Just before the street ended, he looked back and saw the bus, barely visible amid the colorful chaos of cars, people, and dogs. In ten minutes, it hadn’t made it half as far as Saulo had in ten steps.

At Castellana, he briefly considered going to the tower but soon realized it’d be useless: no power, no entry, no elevator. So he kept walking toward Cuzco. The closer he got to Plaza de Castilla, the denser the foot traffic, the sidewalk got more and more soaked with people. Confused laughter and wandering pedestrians filled the street. In the shade of the avenue’s trees, people laughed: young folks unsure how to spend the day, professionals wondering how to get home in dress shoes, and older men toasting the chaos with still-cold beer.

Thirsty under the harsh sun in his dark gray shirt, Saulo craved a glass of water. But with only €10 in his pocket, and card machines dead, he couldn’t afford to spend anything. Without those €10, he was naked.

At Plaza de Castilla, he realized that, without a phone signal, Erhard wouldn’t know he was coming. He pulled out his phone, sent a WhatsApp message, and hoped it would go through. Above all, he picked up the pace. A subtle worry whispered to him that if he took too long, Erhard might think he was not coming, and there’ll be no one to receive him. Like hell I’m walking all the way back in this shirt and this blazing sun, he muttered, powering down the avenue.

Cuzco came sooner than expected, with the surprise of the one who discovers that the infinitude of a kilometer is only a few minutes walking. Not knowing exactly where to go, he turned east on Alberto de Alcocer, guided by intuition. Anyone would have guessed he had been living in that city all his life, even though it had been less than five years. He walked, unsure where to stop. I know it’s this street, but I’ve no idea at what number, he thought, looking at every corner for a divine sign. Finding none, he kept walking, anxiety growing. The avenue, like Sinesio, was clogged with vehicles, and the sidewalks overflowed with bar terraces full of people coping with the blackout over drinks. Not even this can get the hospitality folks a day off, he thought, watching waiters rush between sunlit tables and the dark bar caves.

At the end of the avenue, Saulo stopped, pulled out his phone, and saw the empty chats and unsent messages. He looked up, discouraged. A breeze told him that he had to turn back. The idea of walking back chipped away at his soul. But just then, he saw Erhard sitting on a bench, reading.

- Hey, bro.

- Hi.- Erhard smiled calmly.

- What are you doing here?- Saulo asked, his voice lit with hope.

- Waiting for you or Korina. No point in sitting alone in the dark.

They walked to the apartment, conveniently right across from where Saulo had stopped. The doorman greeted them with a thick Argentine accent. They climbed five floors in the dark, Saulo nearly tripping at first, then guided by their phone flashlights.

- Have you eaten? Want some cottage cheese?- Erhard asked as Saulo entered and removed his shoes.

- Uh, no, no, I ate earlier, thanks.

- Don’t worry, I’ll serve you. If not, it’ll go bad anyway.- Erhard replied, pulling two cottage cheese cups and two Cokes from the fridge. Saulo had no choice but to accept.

They sat, chatting between laughter that were routinely interrupted with growing concern. Erhard said Korina had been trapped in the metro for at least an hour, and he had no updates. Saulo felt lucky to have left later than planned.

Suddenly, Saulo’s phone got a faint signal. He opened the browser and checked the news. He found reassuring headlines about only Spain and Portugal being affected, not all of Europe. But the reports were sparse and inconsistent, talking about the light coming back in certain parts of the country even when in the city its absence reigned.

- The weirdest part,- said Saulo, -is that the power grid isn’t a system with a single point of failure. It’s not just like one cable is connecting every hydro, solar, and thermal plant to the wire… So, how does the whole thing go down?

- Yeah… You know?- Erhard said, -There’s this idea that says “If something has been around for a while, it’ll probably last”. It’s called the Lindy Effect.

- What’s your point?

- Well, think it like this: If a book has lasted for centuries, it’ll probably be around in ten years…

- Yeah, yeah, I get it. But what are you saying now? - Saulo interrupted

- That this is going to last,- Erhard said calmly. -You know systems. When something breaks, you have two or three likely culprits. Testing them takes an hour or two. But if it’s still broken after that… you’ve got no idea. That’s where we are. The people in charge probably don’t even know what to test next. - Saulo was perplexed by the oxymoron of the calm despair in Erhard’s words.

- Oh, God, it’s all because of that damn iguana…- Erhard gave him a puzzled look as Saulo laughed nervously - Back home, when this kind thing happened and the power was out for a week, they blamed it on an iguana frying the cables.

Suddenly, the door opened. Korina entered, panting. Erhard laughed at her, with a touch of cruelty, telling her she needed to improve her cardio. She laughed sarcastically, greeted Saulo, and poured herself a glass of water.

- This can’t be happening, we’re in one of Europe’s capitals.- Korina’s voice, though firm, revealed the anxiety bubbling inside her - Ugh, I feel like I’m still on the edge of a panic attack. We were on Line Six, one I already hate, and it just stopped. The train braked hard, the lights went out. Half a second more and I would’ve started screaming. At least the emergency ones came on. But time passed and no one said a thing. Just those damn speakers chiming in every five minutes with the stupidity: “Queridos viajeros, les informamos que el tren se ha detenido por una avería ajena a Metro.” - Korina mocked the voice with rage and sarcasm - There came a point where I had to sit on the floor. The air was too heavy, and I needed some of the slightly fresher air that gathers down there.

- How did they get you out?- Saulo asked, both curious and concerned. He couldn’t imagine himself in that situation without losing his mind

- They opened the doors.

- But weren’t you in between stations?

- Yeah. We had to walk along the tracks to the next one.- Korina pulled out her phone and showed them the pictures. Erhard looked with mild interest. Saulo stared, amazed

- Well, Koko,- Erhard said to Korina - Saulo and I were thinking of heading down to the bar. What better way to spend the end of the world than with a few beers?

After seeing the flood of cars outside, they sat at the first empty terrace they found, only after confirming the beer was still cold. Erhard and Korina each ordered a jarra. Saulo settled for a non-alcoholic beer, to his friends’ dismay. The conversation flowed for the next two hours, though periodically interrupted by disturbing sirens, ambulances, fire trucks, police. The three chatted cheerfully, but the blue flashing lights stirred an unspoken doubt about where all this might be heading. Korina and Erhard insisted that Saulo watch a certain apocalyptic movie, then switched to discussing what they’d need to stock in their bunker, what might have caused the blackout, and what would happen when night came. Korina urged Saulo to stay at their apartment that night and to accept some cash they’d lend him. He didn’t want to accept, though he also didn’t want to be broke, walk home, or, least of all, spend the night alone in his apartment. He figured that if he did, he wouldn’t sleep out of fear of looting. Not knowing exactly what he was thinking, but seeing the worry in his eyes, Korina kept insisting.

At one point, she got up to use the bathroom. Erhard finished his third pint and, spotting half a caña left by his absent girlfriend, swapped it for his empty one. After a sip, he asked Saulo why he thought so many people were carrying suitcases. Saulo, having not noticed, looked around and saw at least three or four people dragging 23-kilogram rolling bags. He guessed they were trying to reach the airport, or maybe their flights had been canceled and they had nowhere to stay. Erhard, skeptical, said that couldn’t be it: there were never that many tourists around that neighborhood. He added that trying to get to the airport was obviously pointless, any attempt was plain stupidity. When Korina returned, she complained about her now-empty jarra. Erhard, taking a final sip from the one he’d stolen, handed back the glass and said that nothing had happened. Slightly annoyed, she accepted it.

Inside the bar, Korina had asked if they had any food for lunch. They only had a few tapas left. No power, no kitchen, they told her. Plus, she noted, people inside the bar were starting to get hysterical. Her comment agitated Saulo, although Erhard barely reacted, until she added that the beer was starting to warm. Disappointed, they were about to head back to the apartment trenches when Saulo, out of the corner of his eye, spotted a man with a loaf of sandwich bread and a grocery bag full of items. He mentioned it, and Erhard quickly concluded that it must’ve come from the hypermarket up the street, maybe it was still open. Having missed their last chance for cold beer, they paid in cash with a bill scribbled by hand and totaled with a calculator, then headed to the hypermarket.

Saulo quickened his pace, trying to hurry his companions. He, so small, and his friends, each at least a head and a half taller, looked like a couple walking with their fussy, impatient child trying to rush them forward. Saulo couldn’t help but feel that way when he looked up at them, sensing how much more prepared for life they seemed. But at that moment, all that mattered to him was getting to the store before it possibly closed.

When they entered through the doors, they didn’t expect to see, for the first time in hours, electric light. Saulo guessed they had a generator, but doubted the card readers were working. Yet, against the odds, they were. He was relieved knowing he could pay for his own groceries without relying on borrowed money.

They moved through the aisles grabbing what they thought they’d need. First, and most crucial: the wine section. Erhard insisted on taking advantage of a two-for-one offer, ending up with four bottles total. Saulo took nothing. Next, the cold cuts section. Erhard was frustrated to find the fuets gone, scooped up by others, but searched for some other meat to grab. Saulo again took nothing. Meanwhile, Korina browsed the produce section, grabbing anything she thought they might need for a few days: bell peppers, onions, cucumbers. Saulo? Still nothing.

While walking to the store, Saulo had felt the urge to stock up on food for the coming days. But now, he couldn’t think of anything he truly needed. Faced with shelves full of food, he was gripped by uncertainty, an impulse to hoard, but no idea what for. The only image in his mind was a loaf of bread. When Erhard asked what he wanted, like a dad asking his kid, he replied he’d go get some bread, the lone thought in his mind. They went together, each to find their own. And in front of the many options, Saulo picked two loaves of sandwich bread: one with seeds and one rye.

- So, Erhard, did you get your bread?- Saulo asked once he had both loaves tucked under his arms like two impulsive newborns.

- No, look! All the loaves are gone!- Erhard pointed at the fresh bakery section, now just a memory of rolls and baguettes.

- No, man, but Erhard, you don’t want that bread: it’s gonna be stale tomorrow. You need the most ultra-processed stuff possible!- Saulo teased, shedding his previous irritation.

- Fuck off!

Carrying their loot, the three returned to the apartment. While Korina and Erhard stored the groceries in the fridge, Saulo sat at the living room table, thinking. Korina noted they should start storing water, any moment now, the pipes could stop flowing. Saulo remembered what they used to do back home: fill bathtubs and buckets with water as soon as the power went out. But here, they didn’t have those kinds of containers. So, he proposed a law to be enforced within the four walls of the apartment: Every container that can be filled with water, shall be filled with water. Erhard laid out every glass on the table and filled them with water from a jug. Saulo pulled out the pots and did the same. Even empty vases found new purpose. And every time someone took a sip, Erhard rushed to refill the glass.

Suddenly, Korina realized they had forgotten something essential: candles. She said she was disappointed in herself, after all those years hearing her parents talk about handling crises like these, and she forgot the most basic thing. Erhard and Saulo went out again, looking for a chinos store. As they walked, they chatted and listened to street conversations. Saulo translated for Erhard. Many were saying this would last several days. Saulo joked that maybe they should find a car and drive to France. But looking around, they also saw children playing, couples strolling, people calmly walking their dogs. A bizarre situation had planted such helplessness in people that it had simply pushed them to seek a peaceful day. Saulo bore the dissonance of a world flooded with calm but stained with uncertainty.

When they reached the store, the stains became clearer. Ten people waited outside a dark shop, the automatic doors shut tight, a lone guardian hidden in the shadows. The store owner used a broomstick to crack open the doors and asked each customer what they wanted, like a cloaked merchant. If they had it, you were allowed in. If not, you walked away. Luckily, Saulo and Erhard still found a few candles left.

Back home, Erhard insisted on opening the wine. Korina agreed, saying:

- The only thing that worries me is that it’s the end of the world, and Saulo’s sober!

Saulo had little choice after that. They poured a glass each and toasted: To spend the end of the world together! They laughed. Then Korina suddenly said she had solved the suitcase mystery: looking from the balcony, she saw someone open one: it was stuffed with food. The calm faces of the pedestrians hid a hunch that this would last days and get worse fast.

With wine in hand, by candlelight, Korina took out a notebook and pen. She said they had to write down everything they’d need to build their bunker before they forgot. They began: a generator, canned food, tons of fuel. How much? Saulo said they’d need a second bunker, the size of the first, just for fuel. Korina argued it was too much, but Erhard sided with Saulo: the matter was settled democratically. They went on: tons of water, a pool table and board games, a computer with offline games, a console, books, candles. Why candles? Korina insisted they’d need them, but Erhard argued the generator would be enough. Saulo, instead of deciding, changed the subject: they’d need weapons. Korina wrote it down.

As they played, night began to fall. Finally, the issue Saulo had been avoiding came to the surface. Without thinking, Korina told him he should stay with them, like a mother tucking in her son. He, not thrilled about leaving now, accepted bashfully. His embarrassment only grew when she fetched a T-shirt and pajama pants from Erhard's so he could sleep.

They all stepped out onto the balcony to watch the night. On the sidewalks, only ghostly lights darted past. The buildings stood as giant silhouettes in the oceanic darkness that soaked every corner of the city. Each silhouette had numerous small yellowish eyes glowing in windows, each one confessing a candle. The city’s voice was sirens and silence.

With a nostalgic disappointment, Saulo looked up at the sky, hoping in vain to see stars. Not even the absence of city lights brought them back. But looking toward the end of the avenue, he saw the hotel’s neon sign still glowing. What a terrible ad, he thought, the whole city’s drowning in misery and they have just enough power to taunt us with their branding. But before he could say it out loud, four streetlights flickered on. A second of stunned silence followed, and, then, half the apartments’ lights lit up. Cheers echoed across the avenue.

Saulo turned to Korina: she was smiling. In the distance, someone shouted: “¡Viva España!” Saulo shouted: “¡Viva España!” Korina, laughing with her foreign accent, joined in. Erhard smiled. The day had ended.

In the middle of the night, Saulo awoke during one of his usual nighttime stirrings. Wearing Erhard’s clothes, he looked around at the unfamiliar room. He knew he had been dreaming but couldn’t remember what. He could only recall that, in one of those forgotten dreams, there was an iguana.