Extraordinary Naked

Extraordinary Naked

The setting lies thirty minutes from a cosmopolitan city, either by train or bus. Four roads linked this tiny community to close by villages. The construction there was unique, most properties having been built by a few people with some knowledge of carpentry, although once in a while a different architecture could be observed. A brick two- or three- story building will confuse the onlooker by such relevant contrast. Such buildings were erected by rich foreign merchants and men in power over a hundred years ago. Surprisingly, a big aqueduct reached every home bringing clean, colorless water. The high unemployment was visible everywhere – the adults as well as the youths wondered around at all hours, a somewhat depressing sight to the outsider – but for some reason, a sense of tranquility seemed to be with everyone. People possessed very few material things and they developed a sense of conformity, because of the impossibility of acquiring. This mental concept, uprooted anxieties and replaced them with a serene disposition of acceptance.

Julia was a feeble-minded, always complaining housewife, though a neurotic condition had started to take over her mind and body. Her protruding, tiny, tac-like teeth were constantly grinding, a manifestation of her unhappiness. She was always panning with distress. She would start a chore that she knew somebody else would finish for her, then she would go through her normal routine of running to bed, covering her head with a blanket and turning her face around when she heard anyone approaching. Her husband and son knew this and babied her, making more acute her cloudy life. Miguel Prieto her husband, and Pepito her son, both thought many of her diseases were imaginary. But the real truth was that she had pretended for so long, that she now became affected to the point of getting really sick.

The Prieto's home was one of the poorly built asesorias [or rows of attached houses], where each neighbor knew everything said next door. They were in a sense all living together and only divided by a thin wooden wall, giving the mental placebo of privacy. Julia occasionally talked to one of the neighbors, but she detested all of them with a tangible reason. She picked on each weak point, those that all human beings possess, making an issue out of everything. She was very judgmental, never recognizing any good deed or any virtue in other people because she had a difficult childhood, starting with a hard, instrumental birth. At age four she felt backwards and had a short of a period of unconsciousness. At nine, a man who visited the house periodically exposed his sexual organs at her. At age twelve, she experienced her first menstrual period for which she had not been prepared. At age eighteen she had a very unhappy love affair. All of these factors contributed to her strange behavior, and as a result her husband and son seldom took her seriously.

At seven, Pepito her son was growing up in this unstable environment while keeping his sanity: nothing affected him. Julia his mother, besides all her emotional conflicts, wanted her son to be healthy. She could not bear the idea that he could be sick, and thus forcing him to overeat. That was one of the obsessions in her life. My son is so thin. He is going to die of malnutrition, she said and repeated. She repeated it at breakfast time, lunchtime, and dinnertime to the point of annoying all the neighbors, but to but her son continued to chew and swallow indifferently. One thing that was hard to believe, but a true story nonetheless, was when she found out that Pepito complained of having not much appetite. She called on La Sobadora, who made the person complaining of any stomach discomfort lie down in a bed, got her hands greased with lard, and starting to rub the patient’s stomach while praying in a low voice. Julia was not the only one to call upon her. It was apparently a simple procedure and a majority of the people had faith in it, using it as well. The healing woman transformed Julia for a couple of hours, after the healing method was performed on her. She constantly praised and paid her happily of course. Two or three pennies, plenty for the woman when most people had so little or nothing at all. Also, plenty for the rest of the Prieto family while her human psyche was temporarily revived. This woman was a weekly visitor at the Prieto's and Pepito had to be submitted to the treatment if he happened to be around. The pathology nobody knew, but the people affirmed that they got well. But sometimes, all this wealth of mental psychosis resulted in catastrophe.

A young boy with an acute pain on the left side of the stomach, supposedly due to indigestion, was submitted to the rubbing treatment and advised to take four teaspoons full of baking soda. He died three days later; his appendix had burst. But it was not disturbing to the cardinal practice that was this gastric treatment. The whole rationale for it went way back, being too deeply rooted to be discarded by one isolated instance.

Young Pepito loved to accumulate marbles; he had hundreds of them in all colors and sizes. Sometimes he spent hours looking at their bright colors or counting them. It was his treasure. He won most of them from other children. A good spirit possesses him while he is playing, that’s why he always wins, the kids would say to each other, and sometimes to their parents when coming back home empty handed. He was a devoted kid, working hard on every challenge, until mastering was accomplished. On the contrary, his mother was critical and self-condemning. Miguel his father was fifty years old about six feet tall, and balding, with overlong wobbling ears and a battleground of disappointment on his face. Sometimes it can be difficult to identify a person, even on a drawing or in a picture. But Miguel’s delineation was unmistakable. Born with a great disposition – he was non-temperamental – he had become but somewhat obliterated as his wife's bizarre syndrome had taken a toll on him.

After getting married, he unemployed most of the time. He constantly tried to find a job, and sometimes he succeeded for a few days when a corn or peanut crop had to be harvested, but after that he had to gamble with the few pennies he saved to provide his family. If he were winning, he would buy some bread, coffee, and milk. Nevertheless, his had wife comments of disapproval. I am tired of this bland food. But still grabbing everything from his hands, walking towards the kitchen mumbling. The game he played looked like a simple one, but it required a lot of concentration and memory. He was a bad player and had a hard time finding a partner, and they ended up being unreputable contenders like him.

Three Cafés in town, provided the players with full tables, chairs, and a set of dominos, charging a minimum fee for their use. The biggest and most prosperous of the three Cafés was owned by a tall, good-looking individual. On his face was a resentful feeling. He was rude, vulgar, and believed he was immortal. Domingo Soto, proprietor of heaven and hell. Once in a while his Café was the scene of fights and dangerous quarrels since all the men carried knifes in concealed vainas, keeping them to the right of the body and close to the hand for a quick pulling out. That environment gave the men a sense of hidden power. They kept feeling their weapons with their elbows every once in a while, to reassure themselves of their manhood. When a discrepancy would arise, the knives shone in the air, causing serious injuries and sometimes even death. Sometimes, but rarely, a wedding or other social event took place on the premises. Mr. Soto, the self-crowned king, could be in either place, hell or paradise, and feel just fine – pacing his establishment ambivalently.

Domingo had two brothers, Tilo and Tito, who both owned other businesses in town. Tilo a drugstore and Tito a grocery market. Tilo at the beginning could not get any of the necessary credentials to open the business. But after a few days the three brothers got together and falsified all the documents required to open a pharmacy. Nothing ever stopped the trio, whatever they started they managed successfully. The pharmacy was next to the Central Café, and the grocery market right across from both. The three brothers were like one being, a very unique stronghold and no one could disturb in any way their powerful links. They were motivated entrepreneurs, twisting solutions to always get what they wanted, even using violence if necessary.

Very often credit destroys establishments when they can't meet their expected outcome, but not the Sotos’. They always had their accounts up to date. Nobody ever ventured to be late in paying, even when someone lost his job or was through a difficult vicissitude, the triumvirate made sure the matter was resolved in their favor. Iginio, one of Tito's customers who was a light skinned mulatto with a rigidly limited intelligence, was vituperated and assaulted to the point of unconsciousness, dying two months later from the inflicted injuries, all for the crime of not clearing out a small account. The Sotos' evil dexterity in disposing of the battered man and continuing a method of intimidation with threats to his family silenced him until his death. The family dominated and terrorized the town, all while leaving no trace of their actions. Iginio's terrible tragedy was inconspicuous, after all, a mixed breed was not a concern to the Sotos.

The Sotos were brought up the way they behaved. Their mother a callous, viperous woman – looking at her any sensible person would feel like throwing up. A moon-stony face giving the impression of an unfixed road full of potholes was Ortenza, mother and queen. History condemns horrible men for periods of famine and slaughter of the humankind, all the while remaining oblivious to those who obliterate our planet in smaller ways, those who dement everyday individuals into instruments of evil, those encircling our daily life. Ortenza Soto, without any doubt made a perfect candidate for that definition. Don Soto, her husband, was a dedicated worker – a tradition he gained from his good family. Ortenza, wanted to leave the country life, and build a house in town. Don resisted for a while continuing his peasant, benign, and productive work, making their lives easier. But she so much pressed on the issue, that when the children were in their teens, she reached her goal.

A house was built according to Ortenza's exact specifications. She emphatically said that one bathroom was to be built outside the house and used by the men, meaning Don her husband, and in that way was the dynasty built. Don was used to his farm life, in other words, that was all he knew. When the new transition took place, he had to get used to walking forty minutes each way to and from the farm where he worked. When he arrived at his farm early in the morning, he was already tired and by the time he was on his way back to the new home in town, after all day attending to the farm’s chores, Don was exhausted. It did not matter at all to Ortenza his wife, who followed him with canine madness, angrily attacking the man for any trivial thing. One morning the tiger was loosed when she realized that Don had used her bathroom. The early morning sun was hitting her right on her face, like a lunar eclipse. Don usually had to get up and urinate at least three times in the middle of the night, evidently his condition had gotten worse and naturally had to use the closest one. He tried to explain his emergency, succumbing to the tiger's paws with humiliation. An outburst of insults he received instead of mercy, and she carried on awakening the close by neighborhood unconcerned for the tranquility of others. She called herself castle-ruler.

Domingo her oldest son lived with his mother and he was his mother's motor activity. A child learns by repeating and imitating and Domingo was the best educated at home. During his adolescence, he was found in isolated places, copying his mother's postures, ramping up and developing a psychological defense mechanism, a tool she insisted was needed for survival. Tilo and Tito her other two sons, also flew under their mother’s wings but did not take up any of her obsessions like having the huge emotional instability and dominating the household. The children were indifferent to everything and not loving or affectionate to anyone, including their father, but they never were cruel to him. Conception was the key issue. When the genes started to separate and spread in the babies, Ortenza's symptomatic manifestations were wedding Don's.

Gustavo Valo's household was a living contrast to the Sotos', an example of a moral and moderate manner of behavior. Naza his wife was a young woman in her mid-twenties while Gustavo was in his late thirties. They married in Spain and migrated to this town, in search of new horizons. They lived in a genuine and kind home. He was a felicitous person, who carried on the etiquette of past generations. He was an example of authentic tradition; veracity always ripens and endures. Whenever Mr. Valo discussed or commented on any subject, a stamp of overwhelming trust shone in the air with approval. Naza possessed a well-sculpted body frame, that riled up the cross-grained and unpolished desire of the mob to the point that she became apprehensive about leaving the house by herself. She was never assaulted in any way, but her self-esteem was hurt by the insidious, impertinent, and piercing looks which oftentimes came with some audacious words. One afternoon she ventured outside to the post office and on the way back, she saw two young men standing behind some tall bushes that divided two properties. They were exposing themselves from head to thorax and vehemently staring at her with an ecstatic fascination, with their visible shoulders setting in motion. She rushed home and closed the door after her, feeling safe, but the experience made her speed to the bathroom, weeping and vomiting, invaded with a dreadful anguish.

Since his arrival in the town, Gustavo got a job as a truck driver for one of the haciendas close to the town. After few years in that job his boss suddenly died, and the unexperienced widow sold the business. He managed the trucking business so well that he bought his own truck and established his own route. Naza never went out the house by herself, once in a while she risked it, but was always accompanied with her husband. A ghastly feeling invaded her with a phobic reaction to the outside.

The Valos raised two children, Carmen and Rudo. By that point, Carmen was in her early thirties and Rudo in his late twenties. Carmen was a replica of her mother. She never left home without Naza's worrisome eyes. Her psychological experiences and ephemeral youth developed in Naza an erratic and confusing attitude that was of no help to her daughter Carmen. With her restrictions and maladjustments, she created in herself, a strong desire for constant eating, which of course lead to Naza gaining weight.

The Valos rain or shine never missed a mass on Sunday. It was to them, besides their strong faith, also an ethical custom. The church was in the center of the town, a huge building filled to capacity, where men and women, but mostly women, with popular identifiable names were seated for quick recognition. The few well-to-do characters, strolled in slowly to garner attention, exhibiting their expensive clothing, while the least privileged, with nothing to show off, quickly and quietly went inside. That was the Sunday morning pattern, different from the everyday routine. The church owned the only graveyard in the town and charged a fee for the plot. The tolling of the bells could be heard everywhere, sounding off at intervals of ten seconds.

The Cafés opened early in the morning and sometimes closed past midnight. Money was hard to come by, but gambling was always in abundance. Miguel Prieto, like most of the people, was out of work and deprived of peace at home. So naturally he became a regular guest at Central Café, owned and managed by Domingo Soto. The same populace always attended. The same faces were unmistakably seen in the same, habitual places. Children entered and exited the Cafés at will, despite alcohol and gambling being rampant. This particular day, Pepito was on the lookout for his father, whom he loved dearly. Since an early age, he saw him as an exceptional man, listened to him and admired the endurance and patience he had with his mother. Rare qualities in the environment in which he was growing up, uplifting his young soul. He had overheard his father Miguel, talking to a friend about a prearranged hand of dominoes, so he directed himself towards Central Café. All tables were as usual occupied. The clouding smoke, outbursts from the winners and losers in sorrow were the common atmosphere. The sounds were helpful for identifying which individuals had euphoria or irritability. The big, wide, opened doors exposed the dramatic and passive performance to all those who passed by the Café. Pepito stood at the center of one of the big doors, hesitated, but then with discretion turned his eyes upon the sitting crowds, trying to locate his father. Then he proceeded, passing through the standing crowds, sniffing the fresh made espresso by the round countertop and narrow that separating the taburetes where the absorbed throngs sat. He brought himself to a halt standing next to his father. Miguel was so concentrated on the game that he did not notice his son at first. When his partner in the game said, in a musical combination of words, See who is here, Miguel awakened from his concentration as did the other players at the table.

Miguel stared at his son with a pleasant expression on his face, but also with a question mark. The boy knew his father well and without any intimidation approached him.

What are you doing here? asked Miguel, somewhat surprised to see his son next to him, inside the Café. It was very unlike him to be there but not unlike the other children. He lowered his eyes on top chips and started counting the first hand, he had won it but was still down on the game overall. Before spreading the twenty-eight chips that the winner must do, he asked his son again, Is there anything wrong? and took one empty taburete, put it next to him and asked him to sit down.

No, dad, there isn't anything wrong, answered Pepito in low voice. Miguel and his partner in the game were losing as usual. He had tried and tried to improve, practicing and concentrating in the game but seldom having any luck and having a victory. Today Miguel was at his wit's end. The deadline was four hundred. He and his partner had scored three hundred while their two opponents set of points had already reached three hundred and ninety. They were ten points away from winning. Pepito overheard a fellow from the opposite party saying, in a sarcastic manner, Another loss for the goofers. He felt an internal outcry, mixed with sympathy and sorrow for his beloved father. The game was not over yet, but when only ten points are the deciding factor, it was taken for granted.

Nobody paid any attention to the boy next to his father who was also waiting for the sad outcome. If a miracle would sum up the one hundred points my father needed, his spirits would revive and with the profits from the winnings, Sunday dinner would be a real thing thought Pepito. An internal outcry compelled him to close his eyes for a minute, during which time, a solid, intense, bright light, started to move around him. Pepito was very frightened and did not have the faculty needed to gain perception of what was going on. He closed his eyes again, when the same light reappeared, suddenly stopping in front of him followed by a succession of numbers beginning with three hundred and ninety and a series of four-hundreds, five-hundreds, up until a thousand. To his astonishment, a pointer stopped at each number. With a supercharged eagerness, he induced his mind to point to the one hundred his father needed for wrapping up the contest in his favor. All of this occurred in a minute, nevertheless, when he came back from the emotional intangibility, his father, Miguel was shaking hands with his partner and collecting the money from the opposite team. The time that had lapsed among the players was exactly fifteen minutes.

Your son has been sleeping all this time, said one of the guys who of the losing party, trying to change the subject. Miguel's partner thought their ordeal was heroic, not recognizing that what had happened maybe was just being an accidental stroke of good fortune, and said in loud voice, We are the best, in the highest of degrees! Miguel's partner continued with a delirious yelling, shameless beyond comprehension.

The boy recalled stories, that when anyone showed pity or contentment in a rowdy manner, violating the rules of the Café, Mr. Domingo Soto, the proprietor, would clear his throat noisily, as a sign of disapproval. The clientele understood from past experiences that showing rudeness and arrogance was not tolerated. All at the table knew the significance of being out of place at Central Café and tried to calm down their friend. Antonio, please, relax. It is all-right. I think the man is hearing you. Antonio was only revealing his excitement. He was not creating any disturbance or agitation, but in this encampment, Mr. Domingo Soto's domination was absolute. Father and son foresaw negative events about to transpire, and right they were, when they observed Mr. Soto coming closer to them.

Then, without notice or warning, a mass of pitch-black darkness obscured the entire spot. Dark negro, not of the night which has patches of shade, blinded the visible world, as the region of dead. An infectious fear came over the multitude, all now crushing together with one another. Many ventured outside, crumbling, getting upright and continuing desperately to nowhere. The same blinding darkness was everywhere. The feeling of no exit generated panic; the psychological, mechanical defense possessed by all human beings. Miguel and his son remained put by the table. The father squeezed the boy against himself with apprehension of what would happen if they were separated.

Sunday communion was held earlier. The crowd, on their way home likewise was cut off from communication or retreat. A heavy cry came from among the hysterical women. Suddenly, a radiant energy gave everyone visual perception, setting up a temporary calm, intercepted by a rumbling sound, followed up by thick lighting and torrential rain. Heavy drops fell, striking like blows on the parish women still in the open, unprotected areas. Central Café became the only accessible place with its big wide doors opened for shelter. In a matter of minutes, it overflowed to capacity with both sexes. Any woman who ever entered one of the Cafés was subject to criticism and considered woman of the world, nevertheless the compelling peculiar event granted absolution. When circumstances come upon people unexpectedly, the principal of living reconciled and putting in place man's qualities is at its best.

The ordeal of the dark hole and the never-ending tempest brought the opulent and less fortunate into amiable conversation. Even the few blacks there were with the whites, invariably equidistant since in the extreme circumstances they seemed to have forgotten all prejudices and differences. Domingo Soto was in his glory, standing up in the middle of the crowd like a rooster surrounded by hens, getting from one to another, loosing and easing up, the opposite sex in a rational sense. He neared the sitting men, bent over their shoulders, and in an unfriendly, low, hoarse voice said, Get off the seat. Moving all the men off their seats.

The Café provided the customers with popular music from opening till closing; the radio station also broadcasted the weather between commercials. And that day it was informing everyone about the odd events, commenting on the eclipse that had just occurred – giving the approximate time that the moon had passed between the earth and the sun causing the complete absence of light. Also, the commentator emphasized the duration and massive obscurity that was never before experienced.

The Valos became uninvited, forced guests at Central Café like the rest of the crowd, but Domingo roosted around them. Carmen was flanked by her father on the left and her mother on the right. The storm is subsiding, said Domingo, abashing Carmen by staring at her. Yes, it is about finished, replied Naza, getting up and calling for immediate attention; she became mentally disturbed, maybe foreseeing events. On the other hand, Carmen, exchanged glimpses with the man that kept his eyes fixed on her. Why not, she said to herself, after all he is a well to do man and seems to like me. Naza felt very low in spirits, suffering a temporary depression. She had heard many unpleasant stories about the man who shamelessly laid his eyes on her daughter. Mr. Valo maintained his always pleasant, peaceful attitude, unaware of the malice in the man next to him. Naza rushed herself out the Café, followed by her daughter and husband, passing through the multitude, still gathered in large numbers, talking about the strange and most desirable natural happenings. The outlandish and rapid abandoning of the Café caused Mr. Valo some anguish. I want to express my thanks to Mr. Soto for his generosity and courteous hospitality at his business, said Mr. Valo to his daughter and wife, making a sudden turn back towards the Café. This quarter of a day, short and abnormal, will inflict on us deplorable grief forever, mourned Naza to herself. At Central Café, the usual crowd, like in a game, had already wholly given up on the developments of the day’s events, for good or bad.

Right across the street from the Café, in one of the attached houses, a peculiar man of oriental descent, naked from the waist up as if ready for a wresting contest, was pressing hard, using both hands, on a young black girl, reducing her to bondage. She was trying desperately to get rid of him with no luck. The more he tried to seduce her to surrender, the harder her piercing cry shattered unavoidably on the ears of all at Central Café and the proximities. The attentive multitude loosened and displaced, with no one daring to approach. Some of them said to each other, Tato is out of control today.

Everybody knew that this individual had no regard for any social or moral code; besides his nick name ‘The Wolverine’ was enough to allow his erratic, violent conduct to be like a daily routine. Her climacteric condition spread over the mob, because of human self-preservation some men even abandoned their games and stepped out the Café, not in a defiant manner, but just enough that the so-called Wolverine grasped the significance of their presence. He came out the house and called upon any person to settle with him. Subsequently, muteness invaded the whole area, like an order forbidding speech. The girl momentarily freed herself from her restraints and moved on arms and legs into an adjacent room, confining herself into a shabby bed, waiting for someone or some event that would stop the Wolverine from another attack. One fellow from the morbid crowd, opened his arms widely and said, Something is wrong with that girl. I believe she likes what this man is doing to her. Look, she went right back into the house when she could have run away, and instead she stayed put, close to that lunatic! Let's go and take care of our own business. He expressed himself so emphatically, as if he had done something to help the girl in misfortune.

In this town, the police only responded when a formal complaint was set forth with authority, otherwise they stayed at a distance, refusing to take any notice. Occasionally, they got involved in some kinds of disturbances, those that required immediate action, and using extreme discipline reestablished control, using all kind of force if necessary.

Tato's home was a daily comedy on the tougher side of life and not easily changed. This particular day he wanted some confrontation, boasting loudly to the growing crowd who morbidly continued to assemble outside the Café. Without Tato taking notice, two officers appeared in sight, moving in rapidly, waiving their clubs in the air ready to strike, passing within and dispersing the standing audience. They pushed into Tato's house through the front door and once in the position of a fighting unit they started to utter harsh words. Where are you bastard! You son of bitch! They continued the search into another unobstructed space and threw thing around but there was no sign of Tato or the supposedly battered girl. They came into a halt when they saw a huge, loosely woven, woolen bedcover suspended from the ceiling. They opened it up and Tato cast forward, grasping around a bulky paper bag with both hands.

What do you have in there? asked one of the policemen, with a commanding, solid voice. None of your damn business! responded Tato, setting the bag aside and challenging them to a confrontation. Then to the confusion of the officers, he started to leap in an endeavor to get away. The men in the uniform realized what his intention was and blocked the only exit out of the room. But Tato, in a split second, flew like a bird over the cops' heads, landing on the other side of the room. He was tidy and confident, fully gratified. To the perplexity and bewilderment of everyone, he snatched a chair and sat on it, looking at them indifferently. Rapidly recovering from the unusual episode, the police came near him cautiously. Where is the girl? asked one of the cops, less aggressively since Tato remained sitting calmly without any intention of retaliation. This is only a family matter, replied Tato, in a low of tone voice. Absurd! She is as black as the night and you tell us that she is your kin, answered one cop, pointing his club at Tato, waiving it in front of his face nervously. Of course, she is no blood of mine, but she lives under this roof, replied Tato while getting up from the chair and asking the officers to follow him. They became so impressed with the man's ability of flying over their heads, that a sense of intimidation subdued their animosity and they started to follow him with caution. They passed along a tiny room, similar to the one they went through before, full of all loose stuff, stopping at a small room with a sole metal bed without windows. She was here a minute ago, if you want you can wait and ask her if she has any animosity against me, said Tato in full confidence.

The black girl, noticed the confrontation between the police and Tato, signaling her a possible escape. She began running out of the house and taking refuge two doors away from the house. As usual, without testimony to render proof for the Wolverine's arrest or prosecution, the police refused to act now. Huge Tato, in the police's eyes became a sudden danger and they did not want to deal with it now. The flamboyant, sarcastic character, stepped out the house, exhibiting his victory among the few men still waiting for the outcome. He extended his arms defiantly with no response from any of the morbid men, who slowly started to disperse. All of a sudden, something entered Tato's mind, ignoring the crowd outside, the police and even Lunga, the black girl. As if he became possessed, he changed all his antagonism, bringing himself under his own power. He turned around, troubled, and worried, even frantically. He entered the house running madly into the opened room and towards the hanging curtain. He grasped it suddenly and then the bag that he had put aside when he appeared like a ghost to the police and snatched it from the floor. Dozens of decapitated birds were stuffing the bag to the top. There wasn't a vestige of blood on the floor or anywhere after the slaughter. Calmly, he sat down in an old rocking chair, putting the bag close to his feet.

Then as if a book were opened, a scene entered into his mind of an enormous landscape, the vast countryside of East Asia. A six-foot-tall, gray-bearded, Asiatic man in his late forties was walking leisurely from place to place, in an opened field surrounded by huge trees. According to the local custom, he was wearing an array of splendid garments, full of reds and blacks, the descendant attire of a barbarian clan. He was so thickly bearded, even disclosing his eyes. Accompanying the man in his stroll was a long-headed boy with ponytails close to his waist wearing identical clothing. Birds defy the law of gravity, said the man pointing out a flock of flying, gliding cranes. Then like a sudden lightning, he changed his posture, curving down and picking up a rock. With the same speed he thrusted it into the air, to an intended crane, hitting it in the eye and cutting off its neck with the impact. The power of the thrust was so strong that it could have knocked down the whole flock in horizontal line. He accelerated himself like a racing machine from his standing position, entered a tall undergrowth, looking through the grass to find the killed bird. He found it quickly and lifted it with both hands, then using his lips and tongue, sucked the last drop of the remaining blood of the dead bird. With an invigorating movement, he discarded the feathered bird frame, aimed at it with one closed fist, and fueled himself up like smoke from a pressure steam-engine. The little boy saw his father flying together with the birds in the air. How could he do that? asked the son to himself, staring at his father descending slowly and sitting by him. The image of his father drawing blood and flying, fixed a picture in his mind. It was a rare and unforgettable experience that was going to be with him forever.

What you witnessed today, is a secret example of what you must master to conquer gravity. The key to this seems to be simple, but it is a mystery only known by our clan. Remember this! You must have in your body, your weight in blood from birds. It is the practiced and known rite. Only known by us. Then the air is yours. Hardly had he uttered the last word, sharp arrows started to come from all directions, puncturing his body and killing him instantly. The boy watched his father fall down, bleeding from the hundreds of wounds inflicted by the sharp blades, but immediately an extra sense told him to take cover, hiding inside the dense herbage. It took less than thirty seconds for a dozen masqueraded men to approach cautiously, investigating the success of their mission and reassuring themselves of a finished job. The boy remained silent at a very short distance.

All the men were dressed in orange and blue, possibly indicating they were from a rival clan. Then they all disappeared, almost ceasing to exist, as fast as when they came insight. With his father dead, he committed firmly to a small quantity of practical skills and information that always ruled his mind with an abnormal emotional excitement. Because of the interaction of the short period together with his father, he wanted his father's spirit to take over him, to gain in full his guidance. The Wolverine's stress and tantrums manifested sometimes aggressively and some others submerging him into fugacious ecstasy.

Miguel and his son Pepito arrived home together to find out about another striking Sunday episode. Whenever Julia did something that would result in disapproval, some kind of remorse and guilt assaulted her. She justified these things with a fiery attitude, mopping and drying the floor, sometimes on the same spot and mumbling to herself, What is done is done. She had pointed out a few times disapprovingly, what she thought were useless, non-valuable things, the marbles that her son relished like a treasure.

What's wrong Julia? asked Miguel, trying to calm her down with soft words. Do you see anything wrong? answered Julia rapidly with a quivering voice. He recognized that something had gone wrong during their absence because it was her pattern to release her hostility with a dead silence when being questioned. I disposed of things of no value, that’s all. interrupted Julia looking at her son fixedly. The boy put the things together and ran along to his room.

"All by myself, under a scary darkness,