Relato presentado esta semana para continuar la historia:
”Frotaba sus manos para encontrar calor, después de cargar trozos de hielo por más de dos horas. No había otra forma de lograr el objetivo. Su padre siempre le presionó para que fuera muy metódico y ordenado. Aquella disciplina se grabó en su corazón de tal manera que sustituyó a los sentimientos más nobles que suele haber en un niño. Ni siquiera la muerte de su madre lo hizo llorar, aunque lamentaba su partida. Pero el interés de que los familiares que vivían más lejos pudieran llegar al funeral, y mirar por última vez a Elena, le obligaba a mantener lo mejor posible su cadáver fresco, una empresa nada fácil cuando vives alejado en una montaña. Afortunadamente, el lago proporcionaba una buena fuente de conservante, cortesía del crudo invierno que azotaba aquel lugar”]…
En la Montaña
Después de haber puesto el último bloque de hielo en aquel cajón donde yacía su madre, se sentó y vio sus manos amoratadas, fue al patio para ver si conseguía algunas ramas secas y prender una fogata, todo estaba tan húmedo que prefirió seguir frotando con más fuerza.
Su padre no estaba, miró hacia la montaña dónde las cumbres lucían blancas y brillantes.
—Te vas a quedar con tu madre, sabes muy bien lo que tienes que hacer, no necesito repetirte nada, traeré la medicina que se necesita y le avisaré a sus hermanos, quizás quieran venir, de regreso iré por esos lobos, ya me tienen cansado.
—Está bien papá, me haré cargo.
Ahora miraba ese camino, esperaba que alguien llegara, pero los días pasaban y su madre no pudo más.
—¿Qué te pasa mamá?
—No puedo respirar bien, el dolor del pecho es insoportable.
—Te traeré unas compresas calientes.
Ella apenas le pudo sostener la mirada, él fue a la cocina para calentar el agua, oía como se entrecortaba la respiración, ese pitido leve que se iba perdiendo, cuando volvió con el agua caliente la vio tan quieta, supo que ya descansaba.
Ahora tenía que esperar y conservar su cuerpo, en un pequeño galpón, tenían un cajón para guardar alimentos, sacó todo y cargo con el cuerpo de su madre, ahora tocaba buscar los trozos de hielo en el lago, era una tarea ardua, pero tenía que hacerlo.
—Ya eres un hombre hijo, vas a necesitar una compañera, quiero ver algunos nietos.
—Llegará el momento mamá.
Pensaba, como todo era tan diferente a lo planeado, la vida es la que te va llevando. A pesar del frío se sentaba frente a la casa para mirar el camino. Tal vez alguien venga mamá, esperaremos unos días más, dónde te gustaría quedar, hay tanto espacio libre aquí.
Los días eran agotadores, no podía descuidar la siembra y los animales, ver qué no hiciera falta más hielo, terminada la faena se sentaba, se quedaba mirando el camino, se le cerraban los ojos, hasta irse quedando dormido.
Un lobo fue acercándose muy sigiloso, salivaba sabiendo que su presa era una caza fácil, el hombre dormido no escuchó el aleteo nervioso de las aves en el corral, el lobo se preparó para saltar y lo hizo, un disparo se esparció por la montaña.
Se levantó rápidamente y vio al lobo muerto a su lado, a lo lejos su padre bajaba el rifle.
Story submitted this week to continue the story:
"He rubbed his hands together to find warmth, after carrying chunks of ice for more than two hours. There was no other way to achieve the goal. His father always pushed him to be very methodical and orderly. That discipline was so engraved in his heart that it replaced the noblest feelings a child usually has. Even the death of his mother did not bring tears to his eyes, though he mourned her departure. But the interest that relatives who lived further away could come to the funeral, and have a last look at Elena, compelled him to keep her corpse as fresh as possible, not an easy undertaking when you live far away in a mountain. Fortunately, the lake provided a good source of preservative, courtesy of the harsh winter that was raging there..."
On the Mountain
After he had put the last block of ice in the drawer where his mother lay, he sat down and saw his hands were bruised, he went to the yard to see if he could get some dry branches to light a fire, everything was so damp that he preferred to keep rubbing harder.
Her father was not there, she looked up at the mountain where the peaks looked white and shiny.
—You are going to stay with your mother, you know very well what you have to do, I don't need to repeat anything to you, I will bring the medicine that is needed and I will tell her brothers, maybe they will want to come, on the way back I will go after those wolves, they are already tiring me out.
—All right dad, I'll take care of it.
Now he was looking at that road, he was waiting for someone to arrive, but the days passed and his mother couldn't take it anymore.
—What's the matter, mum?
—I can't breathe properly, the pain in my chest is unbearable.
—I'll get you some warm compresses.
She could barely hold his gaze, he went to the kitchen to heat the water, he could hear her breathing getting shorter, that faint whistling sound that was fading away, when he came back with the hot water he saw her so still, he knew she was resting.
Now he had to wait and keep her body, in a small shed, they had a crate to keep food, he took everything out and carried his mother's body, now he had to look for the pieces of ice in the lake, it was an arduous task, but he had to do it.
—You're a man now son, you're going to need a woman by your side, I want to see some grandchildren.
—The time will come mum.
He thought, how everything was so different from what he had planned, life is what takes you. Despite the cold, she sat in front of the house to watch the road. Maybe someone will come, mum, we'll wait a few more days, where would you like to stay, there's so much free space here.
The days were exhausting, he could not neglect the sowing and the animals, to see that no more ice was needed, when the work was done he would sit down, he would stare at the road, and his eyes would close, until he fell asleep.
A wolf was approaching very stealthily, salivating knowing that his prey was an easy meal, the sleeping man did not hear the nervous flapping of the birds in the pen, the wolf prepared to jump and did, a shot spread across the mountain.
He got up quickly and saw the dead wolf beside him, in the distance his father was lowering his rifle.
Invito para que se unan a: @eleazarvo y @annafenix
las imágenes fueron generadas con la IA Wombo.art y editadas con PhotoScape
The images were generated with the AI Wombo.art and edited with PhotoScape.
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)