cuentos de barro - DSpace Universidad Don Bosco

— ¿Lo vido? Son esos babosos bagres,
vos.
—Si quiere nos hacemos al lado de la
isla.
Iba a sacar su cordel, cuando un fuerte
tirón, que ladeó el bote, les advirtió de
una presa mayor.
—¡Jale, mano; debe ser «mero»!
El indio tiró con todas sus fuerzas.
—¡Ya mero revienta este jodido!
Llegó el otro a ayudarle. Tiraron
penosamente. El bote cimbraba,
voltión. En la cola de un espumarajo
surgió de pronto una sombra enorme,
que arrollaba la linfa con ímpetus de
marejada. La luz nerviosa le mordía en
redor.
—¡A la ronca, mano, es tiburón!
—¡Y del fiero, vos!
—¿Lo encaramamos?
—¡Déjelo dir, chero, nos puede joder al
chucho!
—¿Guá perder mi anzuelo?...
—¿Qué siarremedia?
47
“You seen that? It’s the stupid catfish.
“Let’s go to the other side of the
island.”
He was about to pull in his line out of
the water when a strong tug on one
side of the boat, warning them of a
bigger prey.
“Pull, pal, this must be the one!”
The peasant pulled with all his might.
“We’ve almost got the sucker!”
Then the other peasant quickly came
to his rescue, but all of their effort was
in vain. The boat surrendered, and spun
around. Suddenly, in the middle of the
foam, an enormous shadow sprung
forth creating a destructive wave that
washed away the water lillies. The
nervous light seemed to be biting at
them.
“Holy shit, man... it’s a shark!”
“Shit, the nasty kind!”
“Wanna try to bring it in?”
“No, let it go, man. He might fuck up
the dog!”
“Am ah gunna lose my hook?”
“What else? There is no other way.”