Genealogy a fucking II.
Not many years after all that, I went the people, by the little road paved and not see the Mariscal Robledo. In the high top of the hill before crossing the curve of the road which is no more the deep abyss of the valley, I looked down and saw Cauca Last meander the hills of the whole country with its warm yellow , wild, toward the sea, breaking mountains.
then heartbroken, said from inside the broken soul goodbye warm wind, warm nights, goodbye peaceful life of Santa Fe and I went to Medellin drizzle and wet, I went to school, then university . And I buried my childhood.
Passing the time, where everything starts, where all returns and where it all ends and it concluded at the time of dreams and the will to live, I came to Bogotá, the neighborhood of San Bernardo, camajanes lair. I lived there, and he in the next room, the two in the tenancy of the rickety doors and green tile patio in the shade near the two mountains that had at that time churches paths where people walk up on Sunday , to be closer to the sky.
noises that become familiar with only a wall separates you not finished, finished for us to talk one day and share other a couple of bottles in the little bar that smelled of hops, boxwood, to piss, and where they were playing billiards.
It was what is called, forgive me, a whore. So young, the natural beauty, but it seemed so fretful as pain, innocence of a bird in the wind, without a nest, sparrow lost in the concrete jungle without a tree to rest, with gray eyes it off, but verdigris by color.
all started in the neighborhood of the same houses where he spent his childhood. It was under the clear sky of January 1 Wicked, which showed clearly the afternoon sun, cirrus lost after wandering far and indiscreet cotton as soft trade winds were fluttering leaves of walnut trees nearby and the front of the shop dirty amid the vulgarity of everyday life in the suburbs, between the cries of hawkers and the roughness of the artisans. It was discovered and love.
Now that Caesar is gone and time goes by and he does not return, remember the little bar that said, while the voice is blurred and the timbre of her voice makes me a glimpse of the profound nostalgia that makes you think in its first dust ...
crying, sobbing, broken words, and begins to speak:
"I'm ashamed to tell you this, but it happened, doctor (do not know why I said so. Because I'm no doctor. Perhaps because on here doctor tells any sonofabitch. Verbigracia, Doctor Uribe, Doctor Arias, Doctor Santos, Doctor Ordóñez). Everything happened for their misfortune.
-Say a good time.
"I played doctor, made me feel dirty, I said give me candy and I cheated. Damn dog! I pulled down his pants, he took away my insides, my fingers fumbled with his bowels, and you know what was the worst thing? That in the end did not give me anything, the very rogue.
while Cesar was the assistant shop across the street, absorbed in watching the sidewalk, in the silly games of twelve years, asked him to help lift the old damaged rim of an old tugboat. And since nothing in this life is without pay ...
- How much will you give me if I do? I said firm, doctor. Three large candy in his pocket, he responded with an adjective delicious-the-malice I put it without me noticing.
How to refuse to pay that! Cavities did not care that could producírsele so taste the sweet taste of three candies that melted in the mouth.
All I asked of yore was that the child will help you roll the tire to the back of the shop, slowly, slowly until it was all in the dark hole. And the poor, blind, three candy, agreed.
"Oh boy, do you have in your pants, he asked without delay.
And he, striving spot to discover who stole the sinlessness busily washing his clothes by hand by his mother, I do not know, do not see it with innocence, said. And let me clean you, kindly offered the other.
-Sin imagine their evil intention let me sweeten their generosity and deference (last epithet is mine).
shook the fabric with boldness, and according to him, did not come out dirty. God again corrupts the original version of literary aftertaste-a task to do so with care, brushing the rear to achieve its mission. I take off my pants, I asked.
- Why Why? It is not necessary, affecting roughly snapped.
Dame candies which I workaround then I with my mother. "Well look
doctor, I dropped everything, told me how she could be so reckless with her, my parents, who had spent many hours whitening the pants, which he did not want any trouble, that he wanted her to was to claim, and therefore should be clean. And I messed up. Once
with nothing on, I caress the buttocks, I had prostate exam thus could not see what all for what? Not at all, doctor. Because there was no candy in your pocket and all that made him a distraction, not to pay me, the bastard. What a fraud as low doctor, wounded my dignity, let me dirty, I did not request a review, without consultation and without an invoice, and do all for what? To not pay me mine. Once finished the auscultation of my privates parties, sent me out and told me he had forgotten at home the promised candy, come back tomorrow, which would bring them safely. I came back tomorrow, after tomorrow and three days later, but always acted the same way to cajole and released without which accounted for helping me to get the wheel to the bottom, background, the workshop. This happened on Wednesday, came on Thursday, arrived last Friday and Saturday. That was his last day of work. Since the holidays ended and he returned to the Polytechnic was imminent.
Monday passed and then on Tuesday, each day I returned disappointed and downcast in my sidewalk, doctor, wanting to give me the pledge, but this idiot made fun of me. Still yearning to come back and keep his word and give me three fingers of candy that I offered. Doctor yet, I hope in my dreams, three cookies: one ring, another finger and a thumb.
* In the picture from Flickr.com, a place that may well have been the tenancy.
** To see the first part of this post: click here .
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