cuentos de barro - DSpace Universidad Don Bosco

Temblaba por ella. Hubiera querido
podarla un poco. Se paseaba, se paseaba
por el largo corredor, campaneando la
lustrosa sota na vieja, como si en ella se
hamaqueara su inquietud. Apretaba, sin
que rer, el crucifijo de plata que llevaba
siempre colgado del cuello. Si hubiera
sido de cera, lo habría convertido
pronto en una hostia. Allá a lo lejos,
la risa de la Chana sonaba como una
campanilla mundana. Cuando pasa ba a
su lado, apagaba los olores del incienso
con un fuerte aroma de jabón diolor.
Por el corredor silencioso, sus tacones
pasaban, clavando la tranquilidad.
* * *
La niña Queta y la niña Menches, la una
fea de tan vieja, y la otra vieja de tan fea,
entraron apuradas en busca del padre
para un asunto urgente. La puerta
estaba entreabierta y empujaron. Y
fue como si hubie ran empujado su
alma en un abismo. El padre estaba
todo él sentado en un sillón y la Chana
estaba toda ella sentada en el padre. Su
cachete rosado se posaba dulcemente
en el cachete azul del cura, como una
madrugada sutil se posa sobre áspera
montaña.
—¡Virgen pura!...
* * *
131
She made him tremble. He wished he
would have trimmed her a little. He
walked and walked along the long
corridor, swaying his lustrous old
cassock as if he were hammocking
his inquietude inside it. His fingers
involuntarily squeezed the silver
crucifix that he always wore around his
neck. If the crucifix would have been
made out of wax, he would have soon
flattened it into a host. There, in the
distance, Chana’s laughter sounded
like a mundane bell. When she passed
by his side, she made the incense
smells disappear with her strong aroma
of shower soap. Through the silent
corridor, her heels passed by nailing
the tranquility.
* * *
Señora Queta and Señora Menches,
the first being was ugly because she
was old, and the other was old because
she was ugly, entered hurriedly looking
for the priest to discuss an urgent
matter. The door was semi open and
they pushed it. And it was as if they
had pushed their souls into an abyss.
The priest was seated on a couch
and Chana was seated on the priest.
Her pink cheeks were sweetly posing
against the priest’s blue cheek, like
when a subtle dawn poses on a rough
mountain.
“Holy Virgin!”
* * *