cuentos de barro - DSpace Universidad Don Bosco

El sobador la amarró con sus manos
huesudas.
—¡Andáte ligero, te la vuá tener!
El tata se fue a la carrera.
El sobador se estuvo acorralándola por
los rincones, para que no se saliera.
Llegaba la noche y cantaban gallos
desconocidos. Moqueó toda la noche.
El sobador vido quéra chula.
—Yo se la sobo; ¡ajú! —pensaba, y se
reiba en silencio.
Serían las doce, cuando el sobador se
le arrimó y le dijo que se desnudara,
que liba a dar la primera sobada. Ella
no quiso y lloró más duro. Entonces el
indio la trincó a la juerza, tapándole la
boca con la mano y la dobló sobre la
cama.
—¡Papa, papita!...
Contestaban las ruedas de las carretas
noctámbulas, en los baches del lejano
camino.
* * *
El lunes llegó Tules. La María se le
presentó, gimiendo... El sobador no
estaba.
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The witch doctor wrapped his bony
hands around her, tying her up.
“Go away fast. I will keep her here for
you.”
Her dad left in a hurry.
The witch doctor kept rounding her up,
chasing her into every corner so that
she wouln’t get away.
When the night arrived unseen roosters
crowed. She sobbed all night. The witch
doctor noticed that she was pretty.
“I will give her a massage, yay!” He
thought and laughed in silence.
It was about midnight when the witch
doctor came to her and told her to get
naked, that he was giving her the first
treatment. She didn’t want to and cried
louder. Then the witch doctor forcefully
grabbed her putting his hands over her
mouth, and threw her on the bed.
“Dad, daddy!”
But her only answer was the wheels
of the nocturnal ox carts hitting the
potholes in the distant road.
* * *
Tules returned to fetch her on Monday.
Maria came to him moaning. The witch
doctor was not there.