cuentos de barro - DSpace Universidad Don Bosco

Santa Rosa, ponían un fostró. Tres días
estuvieron andando en lodo, atascados
hasta la rodilla. El chico lloraba, el tata
maldecía y se reiba sus ratos.
El cura de Santa Rosa había aconsejado
a Goyo no dormir en las galeras, porque
las pandillas de ladrones rondaban
siempre en busca de pasantes. Por
eso, al crepúsculo, Goyo y su hijo se
internaban en la montaña; limpiaban un
puestecito al pie diún palo y pasaban allí
la noche, oyendo cantar los chiquirines,
oyendo zumbar los zancudos culuazul,
enormes como arañas, y sin atreverse a
resollar, temblando de frío y de miedo.
—¡Tata: brán tamagases?...
—Nóijo, yo ixaminé el tronco cuando
anochecía y no tiene cuevas.
—Si juma, jume bajo el sombrero, tata.
Si miran la brasa, nos hallan.
33
it were the tracks of whip. They put on a
record on the phonograph and listened
to a fox trot while they ate, chewing
tortillas and cheese from Santa Rosa.
They had walked for three days through
mud up to their knees. The young boy
cried. The father cursed sometimes and
laughed at other times.
The priest of Santa Rosa had warned
Goyo not to sleep in abandoned huts,
because gangs of thieves were always
around hunting for travelers. So, at
nightfall Goyo and his son escaped
deep into the woods. They cleared a
little spot at the foot of a tree and spent
the night there trembling from cold
and fear, not daring to say a word. They
listened to the chiquirines 69 sing and
to the buzz of the blue-tailed, big-asspiders
mosquitoes.
“Pop, will there be tamagases 70 ?”
“No, son. I examined the tree trunk
before dusk and it ain’t got no holes.”
“If you smoke, do it under your
sombrero, Pop. If they see the glow,
they’ll find us.”
69. Dwight Wayne Coop from Revue Magazine explains that “The song of one common species is
onomatopoeically called chiquirín, because its series of sharp chirps climax in a sonorous, motor-like
hum. Cheek-cheek-cheek-cheek-cheek-cheek-areeeeeeeeeennn. Many people find this tune to be
soothing, and moviemakers record it and other cicada music to enhance their sets with creepiness and
other ambiences. Over a century ago, while British entomologist W.L. Distant began cataloging Central
American cicadas, he noticed that some cicadas have a repertoire of three or even four songs. Aside
from the deafening mating call, there is a softer “honeymoon croon” that a male serenades his mate with
after she accepts his advances; the pair separates after an hour (more or less) of coitus. Males also emit a
distress screech when snagged by predators, and some species have a “fight song” that tells other males
to back off.”
70. Same word in both languages but not related to the harmless U.S. namesake snake. This dreaded
poisonous Central American snake is small in length (20 inches max.) with a triangular head.