Don Martín Salazar, like all old men, at the
end of the afternoon went to his office every day, accompanied and supported by
his old carved huayacán cane; his slow walk showed that his body was already
tired of carrying the long years of his life with him.
Don Martín, from a very young age, underwent
the heaviest work in the fields, starting as a cavalry squadron, until he
became one of the most prosperous landowners in the region.
When he did not yet know economic opulence, he
met María, the woman he married and came to have four children. Precisely, when
he was waiting for the fifth to be born, fate cut short Martín's happiness,
because María inevitably died.
The last goodbye was a sigh accompanied by a
handshake, while Don Martín cried, no matter how many people looked at him with
compassion. The exemplary marriage was dissolved. Don Martín pleadingly
implored the divine creator with pain.
"Take me too, my life without Mary is no
life," he cried like a child. The consolation of others was not enough to
soothe that deep pain, and the whole town looked at him resignedly without
being able to do anything.
At this moment Doña Pascuala, a sincere old
woman, without mincing words, and more imposing than words, approached him.
-Martín, listen to me. You know that good
things don't last, you're young and with a lot of money, you can find a good
young girl from the place.
"No," said Martin. "Love like
Mary's would not be found here, or in the afterlife.
Over time, Martín's acquaintances watched with
pity as that fact consumed him for a long time.
When Martín went out in the morning to
contemplate the sun, he would grab a flower and talk to it, he would stick it
to his nose and kiss it as if it were his own Mary. Seeing that fact, the
people who passed by looked at him and looked at him, taking care of the old
garden with care.
The gossip did not cease. Some said that Martín
was crazy, others murmured that at home he talked alone. But Martín was neither
one nor the other, he stopped at night to contemplate the moon to see María
smile.
She died just when everything was beginning to
bloom, and what people did not know was that from the day of that cruel
incident, Martín, in an effort, and looking at his four children who were still
young, became from that day on the father and mother of the four pelaos.
Thus, during all those years of orphanhood, it
seemed that from heaven he was encouraged by his beloved Maria.
Martín progressed quickly and with great
success in his work and in his business, with clientele from all over the
country; he received large orders for his merchandise and products. They were
the most sought-after in the market and everything his hands did acquired an
incomparable value.
That was success. Besides, what to say about
Martín's human value. He was not a person who went to church, in fact, he
almost never went, even if that made the priest sick, but his high value of
sensitivity placed him as a very charitable person.
People commented: "When was there a day
when the poor did not receive their help? The needy always found the doors open
in Martin's house, the hungry always found bread to satisfy their hunger, the
sad received comfort from Martin's wise words, the lonely one, company, and the
stranger, hospitality where he could spend the night and rest his body."
That particular afternoon, as he walked, his
eyes gazed at the cloudy, dull, sad sky; the flowers, with their petals open,
absorbed the cool afternoon breeze.
The sun appeared at times, waved and hid again
behind the clouds; Martín's mood was bad as the weather. Suddenly he felt the
ground spin around him and he lost his balance, he felt himself fall to the
ground, but his hand held on tightly to the cane, and once again, the faithful
friend saved him from collapsing on the ground.
Worried about the frequency and manner in which
the dizziness came to him, he hurriedly opened the door, and once inside he sat
down on the Louis XV chair at his desk, whose legs had carved in wood the
shapes of eagles. He rested his skeletal back on the backrest and his gaze was
fixed on a very old painting of high value, and once again he read the memory
that was written on the lower part: "In good times and in bad, until death
do us part."
Beautiful in their youthful years, marriage and
four children transmitted life. He cried again as always, but now he cried with
happiness and joy since he knew that he had little time left for his long
journey. The old man thought silently:
"He is calling me, I feel that at night he
prostrates himself on my bed and whispers in my ear, and with soft words that
tell me: "I have been waiting for you for years Martín, here in our new
bed of love, do not stop, beyond the stars, where beautiful birds sing soft
melodies, from dawn to dusk, and where flowers grow all year round spreading
their perfume with the breeze. I am waiting for you in this place for the two
of us dreamed of, where spring never ends."
At that point, Martín said:
"Ah, this head!" and he grasped his
tormented head with his thin fingers.
He covered his ears with his hands, but after a
while, as if his senses demanded that he continue listening, he lowered them
again.
"Maybe," she said to herself.
"That voice is the same as my Maria's.
He sensed that he was calling him desperately;
then Martín would stop, walk and sit down.
"Could it be that he needs me to start
another life away, perhaps, from pain? But if it is, or if it had to be, I have
to hurry!"
From that moment he began to leave everything
ready. He prepared himself like any businessman and organized everything to
leave it in the hands of his children, the new heirs. And of course, that would
take him little time. He had everything almost ready for a long time, and he
himself, in his own handwriting, drafted the wills that each son would have.
All the money in the bank was in the name of
his four children; jewels, animals, merchandise, houses and also the land. All
the servants, cambas and cunumis, would be freed from all kinds of servitude
and would keep the house after Martin's death. Only they would stay of their
own free will, if they so wished. That night was the longest of his life; he
did not sleep a single minute during that night and his eyelids dilated.
The dawn caught him with its golden rays. It
was the beginning of a new day. You could see people walking through the sandy
streets in search of the everyday; at breakfast that day he had to wait for the
last of his children to get up and it almost didn't strike midday.
Those were his children, Dad's little children;
they would never understand the high value of sacrifice, the years it took him
to build and accumulate all that fortune.
Nor did they ever bother to grasp a pen or a
leaf, nor did they learn the business of their father, no matter how hard the
father tried to guide them. They looked at life every day as if going through
it were the most beautiful thing.
Although of course, apart from sleeping until
noon after a heavy night of lust, it was easier every day to get money from
their father's wallet, because Martín never resisted them, he always gave them
what they needed, and whenever this happened, Martín smiled inside. The four
lazy cambas admired the courage and example of the father.
They admired that Martín, even though he was
illiterate, managed to accumulate great economic success. Would they do the
same when the time came to face their destiny alone?
Thus came the unexpected but longed-for day;
this impromptu meeting was held, and the four sons paid close attention to the
words of the old father.
That silence was absolute, you couldn't even
hear the flight of a mosquito. The boys' hearts were beating at full speed,
emotion overwhelmed them. The big day had arrived.
The old father did not stop talking, he only
stopped for moments, because of his heavy breathing. First he lectured them
with the usual father's advice, then he bent down to the ground, took out an
old carry-on suitcase made of cowhide. Opening it, he took out some very clean
and well-preserved papers.
He dipped the pen in the inkwell and very
ceremoniously, in order of age, he called them so that each one could sign the
agreement of what they were going to inherit. First Saúl passed, then Raúl,
then Pedro and finally the youngest, Ronald. In the will it was not known who
was going to inherit the cambas and cunumis.
Finally one of them asked:
"Who do these guys stay with, Dad?"
The old man answered:
"They, the Cambas and Cunumis, are free
from this moment on.
Another asked.
"And this house?"
The old man answered:
"This house will become theirs, except
that I will remain in it until the end of my last days of life; then they will
come and take possession."
"Papa," said another, "the lands
of the so-called Inheritance do not appear in this division either.
"That's right, my children. That's the
only thing left with me until I decide what to do with them, it's barely five
hectares.
The children were silent, doubts and questions
floated in the air that they did not dare to ask the father, and in the eyes of
each son there was a thirst for answers.
Could it be, they thought, that our father is
saving those lands for another son who may have four of us besides?
Others thought:
"Are the rumors that people used to pour
out about that small extension, called the Inheritance, true? That one, the one
in Paso.
Paso, was the first one that Martín bought in
his youth. The good neighbors said that he was very lucky since he had found a
large vein of gold.
So many of the envious neighbors kept watch
near his house and very early in the morning they followed Martín without being
seen with him. Martín did not realize it, he worked incessantly, until he
finished his task, and he used to let his lunch break pass. Then dinner, in
order to advance in the clearing of his land. The curious and the envious also
returned without being able to catch Martín's secret. They returned
disappointed, and therefore, on some occasions, they used to murmur that in
that same jungle place they saw that Martín invoked the power of the Devil and
that they made a pact right there, and that the devil granted him luck and
fortune in exchange for something more precious than his life, and that in
exchange he gave him the life of his beloved María.
On that occasion, it was Martín's turn to burn
his chaco, a task that he had to do at night. The curious cambas followed him,
protected by the darkness of the night, and then the rumors came from them,
from those who claimed to have seen him worship a shadow in the shape of a
monkey.
Others said that they could not see anything.
In short, it was all pure hearsay.
But going back to the great moment, the point
was that on that day Don Martín was the same as before. First he was left
without his wife and now he was left without money; he only had the Inheritance
left and he would live in that house for the rest of his few days.
A long time passed and the nouveau riche were
exalted. The new economic position made them dizzy, some dedicated themselves
to traveling, others sought to make themselves known and make themselves famous
as womanizers.
The music band played every day in different
houses, and where some good girl lived, there they were. Others frequented the
playhouses; in short, the waste was such that they never had time to visit
their father, to see how he was.
Nor did they think that one day what is not
activated will be extinguished, and the priest of the church was as sinful as
they were, since he married them in secret two, three and four times, all in
exchange for a large sum of money.
The life of a scoundrel and a bohemian reigned
in these young sinners, blind to everything that is not fun and a good life.
Not too late the day came when they realized
that they had no money left even to make a blind man pray; it was then that
they stepped on land and remembered old Martin: their father. But something
made them stop; perhaps shame. How would they get home again, empty-handed, and
without any money?
"Was Martin alive?" They thought at
last.
"But what did we do all this time!"
They asked each other several questions, but
they could not find an answer. Then, pride made them think differently; they
would start with the little they had of their inheritances and take the same
example as their father. They would go out to face life with time as it
presented itself, under the sun, under the rain, the cold and the wind. They
would not stop working, and determined, they went to the church to ask the
blessing of the priest, who first lectured them.
A few days passed when sadness made them
desperate again, business was not going well, they said among themselves, as
they did not find the way out of success, they got together again like those
warriors who flee terrified from combat with their wounded captain. But on that
occasion they did not dare to go looking for their father either.
Despite trying to do everything, they failed in
everything. Saul, the eldest of the brothers, took the initiative and said:
"Brothers, listen, we have to do
something. You have seen that we have tried to do so many things and nothing
has gone well, it will be better to go and look for our father.
"If we still find him alive," said
Raul.
"No one but him also knows the art of
business.
"I'm sure he's going to get us on
track," Pedro added, showing his admiration. "Yes... Besides, let's
not forget that our old man still has a little ground left.
"What terrain?" Ronald asked.
Peter reminded them of that part of the
so-called Inheritance. They all, at that moment, looked at each other surprised
by this valuable suggestion.
"I did not tell them," said Saul,
"that four heads are better than one."
It was very true that these five-hectare lands
existed. But what was the importance of five hectares?
It was not so much the interest of the lands,
but rather what the land contained, the Inheritance, and the rumors that there
was an exploitable vein of gold in that place, or that it could also be that
this was a place frequented by Lucifer.
Yes, the desperate boys said to themselves,
there is no doubt, not for nothing did our taita not give it to us for fear
that we would discover the mystery.
And without further loss of time, the four
failed sons set off in the direction of their old father's house. No sooner had
they arrived and were about to enter, than something inside stopped them, and
looking at their old house, sadness invaded them.
The old walls seemed to speak to them,
reproaching them. The wind stopped blowing in the gardens where they used to
play as children, where they learned to take their first steps supported by
those old hands of a cunumi that acted as lifter for each boy, one by one and
in its own time.
Everything was abandoned; the house was dirty,
the grass prevailed covering all sides completely. Of the old and delicate
plants of roses, jasmines, gladiolus, ferns and papies, some of them wanted to
smile at the boys but they were old and without strength, all of them died in
the most absolute silence. Everything showed signs of being in the saddest
orphanhood.
They stood on the door undecided, until one of
the boys decided to push the door open. The old hinges sounded, the door
creaked like a cry of pain. Then they entered, and when they reached the
interior; they looked for the father. But great was his surprise to see Martin
lying on the ground. A lake of blood surrounded him, and in his right hand he
held the cane and in his left hand he carried some of the old pictures of the
family or of what was once a great family.
Perhaps those memories tormented him day and
night. Immediately Martín was picked up by the children.
The blows were not serious at all. The naturist
came home, did his work and ordered him to rest. From that day on he was
accompanied by his children, who, under the pretext of taking care of him,
stayed to sleep each in their old rooms.
At night, one of his sons would stay by his
side. They took turns. Martín would take advantage of those moments to ask them
questions about how their business was going, and smiling, he would encourage
them.
"I knew that my children would progress as
their father did," he said proudly, and he would raise his weak arm girded
with dry veins and pat them on the back or on the leg and sigh as if relieved
thinking that his heirs were responsible and compliant.
Three days passed and Martín told them:
"Children, I think I feel better. Wouldn't
it be better for each one of you to go home and see your business? Don't worry
about me, I've lived long enough.
"Oh! No, father, how can you ask us
that?" said one of the brothers.
-There is time for that, we want to stay and
keep you company for the last days of your life.
The old father smiled pleased. He had raised
them, he was mother and father at the same time, he knew them. In silence he
went back to sleep.
The priest also came to see them, prayed for
Martín and then left.
Meanwhile, the children could not find the
beginning of a talk to confess to the father all the failure and the waste of
money they made until they were tinder. But Ronald, who was the youngest, and
who always enjoyed more consideration from the father, on one of those nights
when he stayed keeping him company, could not stand the situation any longer,
and had to confess all his failures and the vain attempts that the group of
brothers made to get ahead.
Martín, after listening to everything, replied
to Ronald:
"My son, I don't want you to worry, if I,
your taita, knew how bad you were doing, the rumors reached me, but anyway,
what are we going to do, luckily you are healthy and complete, and you just
have to look at where the same sun rises and dies, and the next day it shines
again."
"That's right, taita.
"That's right, son," said Martin.
"But, taita, that's not all. Our brother
and I have decided to ask you for the last chance. Tomorrow we will meet, and
we want to ask you for the lands of the Inheritance.
There was a silence. The old man swallowed
hard, then shook his head as if remembering something, and exclaimed:
"Of course, very true, very true. We still
have those lands, yes, yes, yes." "Heh, heh, heh," Martin
laughed.
"Is it true, father, that those lands hide
a very high value for you? As we have heard since we were children, those lands
contain your secrets. From there you, taita, went out and became rich.
-Yes, that is very true. Those lands hide
something very significant in my life, it was the first part of land that I and
your deceased mother, may God have her in heaven, bought each other, and
without expecting anything. But to our surprise, we found the treasure of our
lives. It is true that the land is small, but it hides an invaluable wealth
never seen in another area.
That short dialogue ended up plunging the
father and son into sleep.
The next day, when the brothers had gathered to
relieve themselves, Ronald told the whole conversation of the previous night
with his taita. He also told them that it might even be that their father would
grant them the land of the Inheritance, and that he would also reveal the
mysteries and show them where their riches were. The other brothers listened in
great surprise.
The quartet of irresponsible people arranged to
meet with the father without further delay, and, as always, Saúl, the eldest
brother, would be in charge of taking the floor and would have to narrate
everything that had happened. And so it was, a silence of sadness reigned.
The children, crestfallen, asked for the wisest
advice and with them a new opportunity, they also promised, that if it
happened, their lives would change, it would be different, because now, they
were sure that they knew the bitter taste of need and poverty. The other
brothers spoke in the same way.
Martin listened to them very attentively,
without interrupting anything, and after finishing telling all the children the
details and the greatest inconveniences, Martin gave a deep sigh.
This reality took away the last days of his
life, he felt incapable of creating ideas, and it would be less possible to go
back to being the same father as before: to work, to accumulate money... He
looked at his children, he saw in their faces the inability, he imagines them
all falling into perdition, begging for a plate of food or drunk, fallen in the
mud, or perhaps lying on the grass of some pasture.
What can I do, Martin thought, while the
children looked at their father waiting for something or some solution that
would lift them up; then Martin spoke to them with authority as he had done
before, and thanks to the fact that the faith that the children had in him was
so great, they were once again sustained and believed in that man who was their
father and who was dying.
"Well, well, my children," said
Martin. "He who sighs is not dead, and life is a constant battle where the
weak die alone and helpless; take the example of the baker, he only builds his
house with mud and straw to defend it from the wind, or have you ever felt that
the wind blows downwards, or upwards?"
Oh, the children thought, how wise the taita
is, and Martin continued to speak to them.
"Do you know who it is that fails?, - and
he himself replied, "he who never tried anything fails; that's right, my
children, and I ask you that this mistake be only a lesson or let's suppose
that it is a losing battle of this life.
But the war was not lost, and afterwards, more
calmly, he asked them to be patient; soon they would know the true secret of
the sacrifice, they would know the mystery of the Inheritance.
In spite of the many attempts that the children
made to find out what the Inheritance contained, the only answer from the
father was to be patient, that they would soon know the mystery. In that long
wait, the days were long and at times despair spread in the spirits of the
brothers.
The children wondered how long this situation
would last. Then it happened that while they kept the expectation latent and
took care of the father day and night, they were deprived of all taste and lust
to wait for the big day to receive the news.
In that long wait Martin fell without any
possibility of recovering; he fell definitively ill, day and night he had a
burning fever; he visited his ancestors, he talked with his father, with his
mother, then he began to talk with his Mary, in that long dialogue where only
souls have that gift of meeting in that silent dialogue.
He could be heard smiling and sighing with a
light, tender sigh and with new laughter between his lips; the children were
waiting for him to come to his senses, for his soul to resume its body; Martin
soon overcame death, he fought like a lion against it.
When he came to, in those short seconds, it was
to look at his children, who desperately placed themselves near the sick man to
ask him where the richness of the Inheritance was or what the mystery was. But
just when the answer was about to be announced, Martín lost the reason for this
life again and began to articulate unintelligible words. It was as if he liked
that introduction to death. Everything was lost for the desperate children,
until Raúl said:
"Brothers! Wouldn't it be better to bring
the priest and make our father go to confession at once?"
"Could it be that his soul is in pain
because he wants to say something?" said another of the brothers.
The suggestion was very well received. Two of
the brothers went out to look for the priest, and incidentally asked him to get
the secret from their father about where the wealth of the Inheritance was.
When the priest arrived that morning where
Martín was ill, he was sleeping peacefully for the last minutes of his life.
The priest looked at him, he felt the cold room as if he were dead. The priest
thought: "Martín is leaving us", to see the sick man with yellowish
skin, and closed eyelids. The face was skin and bones.
"He has no more hours to live, if he
didn't beat me to it.
The stocky and massive man of times gone by,
today he was only an accumulation of bones and skin. Suddenly, as if returning
from a long journey, forgetting something, Martín's body came to its senses.
Each time he returned he was more unaware of
the need of this world, only this time he shook his head and looked at the man
in the cassock; he smiled showing his dry and dehydrated jaws, the heavy tongue
prevented him from speaking, but he managed to speak to him:
- Father, father, I know what you are coming
for.
"That's right, brother, I come to confess
to you before you meet your ancestors there in the other world, in that world
full of mysteries and that only the dead can know.
"Oh, father, perhaps it was you I was
waiting for, so my soul was reluctant to make this long journey.
"That's right, brother Martin, and so as
not to tire you," said the priest, grabbing his hand, "shall we begin
at once?"
"Well, father, you say," said Martin.
The priest asked again.
"Do you owe any guilt, Martin?"
"No, father! Only the debt of not
correcting my children's mistake in time!"
-Anything that the Church can do for you on
earth? A child, infidelity, greed?
"No, father," said Martin.
"Well," said the priest.
"Brother Martin, I am the evangelist father. Do you recognize me?"
The priest asked to make sure of the dying man's sound mind.
"Yes, father," replied Martin.
"Well, brother, then tell me, and tell the
truth about the vein of gold you keep secret in the Inheritance, or whatever.
"Well, father, I just want my children to
change their lives.
"Well, Martin," interrupted the
curate, "don't waste your short time talking about anything else, or you
don't realize that time is money. Tell me about that vein."
"It's all right, it's all right,"
Martin said, panting.
The priest insisted again:
"Is it true or not, little brother?"
Martín answered for every answer and seeing the
priest's interest, and answered:
"Did you know, father, that in every piece
of land there is a hidden treasure? It is man's problem to discover it!"
"Hail Mary Immaculate, thank God, I
thought that you really had a pact with the devil, Brother Martin, just as the
comments of the people of the town said.
The sick man again made an effort to stretch
his dry lips; and with a slow prayer he said to the curate:
-That is my concern, father, that in the face
of this insatiable search, my children's ambition will be blinded.
"Don't worry about that, Martin.
"Well, father, I only want my children to
change the type of life they lead at this point, and that's why you promise me
that you're going to help them, promise it to a dead person, so that my soul
may rest in peace."
"At this moment may we obtain peace and
let your children hear your last wish," said the curate. And he went out,
and let in the four sons, who were waiting outside, anxious for the curate's
results.
The man in the cassock made the recommendations
of the case and in passing also recommended not to forget the contributions to
the Church, and when everything was agreed he pushed them inside, to the sick
room. Martín looked at them far away and blurred, he hardly spoke anymore, the
air he breathed did not reach his stomach. When he turned, he tried to make a
sign that was very well interpreted by the children, who sat around the father,
while the priest remained standing with his cassock touching the floor.
"Well, Martin," said the curate,
"here are the boys, you can say what you like, they will hear you. And
above all, there is the word of the Church that everything will be all right,
and so your soul will rest in peace.
Then the sick man gave a deep sigh and drawing
strength spoke:
"It is true, my children, that the
Inheritance, so called after your deceased mother, contains a real richness.
Your mother and I, after raising it, settled in this town and never returned to
that place. But what those lands gave us was more than enough to increase our
wealth, which you finally squandered in a short time; and you, father, said
addressing the priest, listen carefully: you have to help my boys to look for
that vein, because I, because of the years in which I never returned to that place,
I do not remember exactly where it is. And my strength is no longer enough to
walk. But father, promise me that you will help them.
The priest answered:
"You may be sure that I will help you in
your search, but don't you remember anything, Brother Martin?"
"Nothing, father, I only remember that my
Maria and I dug a little less than half a meter under a dry tree.
"Where Dad, where Dad? Tell us where it
is," the children asked.
Too late. Martin let out one last breath, so
slow that it lasted an eternity, and his soul flew to be reunited with his
beloved Mary and his ancestors.
In this way, the possibility of finding the
golden vein to become rich again was opened, while the priest did not stop
asking for future contributions to the Church.
After fulfilling all the sacraments of
Christian burial, when they were alone, they looked at each other, and as if
they were receiving an order, they left for the Inheritance, which was not far
from the town. The four of them marched in silence, plus the priest; there were
five of them. When they arrived in the area they looked at the green mountain
like a blanket. Everything was a plain, the plants were more robust than those
on the other side, large leaves, and the soil was moist. You could tell the difference
by comparing it with the neighboring lands.
The five men looked desperately, anxiously
looking for and searching for the dry trees. When they discovered the first
tree, one of them went to the trunk. They walked desperately, they stumbled
nervously, and it even seemed that the dry tree was walking away from them.
But when they looked around, they discovered a
new tree, and another of the brothers said:
"Here it is, we're making a mistake, it's
this one.
"No," interrupted another. "It's
over here," he said, showing another tree. Then they saw another; until
they realized that time and years had withered the trees.
Meditating, they stayed about the fact that
perhaps those trees were also young like Martín, their father. They were all
dry and with holes under the roots. They went through each of the trunks they
found in the five hectares.
All the trunks were surrounded by herbs, vines,
hollyhocks, others had holes dug by a tatu under the trunk. In desperation,
they watched them without realizing that the day was leaving.
One of the brothers had an idea and
communicated it to the others. He proposed that, since it was Monday, they give
each other a week to find him, and that they start the next day, machete in
hand.
They did so, touching five hectares. Everything
was flat, and only the thickest trunks were left standing.
Thus the first week passed and there was no
sign of the vein; sitting under the shade of a tree with their hands protected
by a bandage so as not to bleed, the brothers thought: "Has our father
lied to us?" But then they remembered again the bombastic wealth that they
themselves knew and enjoyed, and with that insatiable faith that every
desperate man carries, they set a new goal.
To turn all the earth. If necessary, the five
hectares, and for this they talked to the priest to see if the satannado would
dare to hold a hoe, or pillory or shovel in his hands, and not only to ask and
ask for what was about to be discovered.
That night, when the priest appeared, he
listened, and from his face you could tell that he was not very pleased with
the proposal, but he remembered that in between he had pledged his word and the
Church itself to support the boys, so he reluctantly accepted his part of the
work.
He would remove a hectare, although he did put
one thing as an observation. This would not be a competition, and the one who
finished first would help his companion, and he would enter a little later and
leave earlier than all of them, an observation that was accepted by the
brothers.
Thus began the heavy journey and each one
covered his area, but the sacrifice did not bear fruit; only hope kept them
standing. They had been digging and turning the earth for three days, just as
their father had told them at the end of their lives. Until one of the boys ran
into something hard with his pillory, and then he called his brothers. They dug
around, but reluctance took over them when they saw that it was a piece of old
and filthy jar.
In short, so they continued the heavy journey.
Some finished first, and those helped the others; the priest was the last to
finish digging, and in this way, the land that yesterday was a green carpet of
the mountain, today was bare and deserted.
The green and dry trees were all knocked down,
the disturbed earth was loose, and in the afternoon, when the dew fell, a
scented tree gave off a smell of smoke.
Totally fertile land. That stain was different
from others.
The children and the priest watched in silence,
resigned to fate. All hope was lost. The mystery of the vein was a falsehood.
Disillusioned, they were leaving the place,
when in the distance they saw an elderly man approaching them, and when he was
close to the boys he greeted them and asked them:
-Young people, can you know what you will do
with that land?
The boys, who had nothing in mind,
disconsolately answered:
"Nothing, we just clean it!"
The old man spoke to them again:
"I sowed it and as it is so disturbed, in
a very short time you would reap the best products of this season.
"Yes, yes," thought the young men.
And without wasting any more time they began to
plant the product of the time. Not four months had passed when they saw the
ears of corn. Everyone was impressed by the size. When the day of the harvest
arrived, the yield was such that all the customers who bought did nothing but
comment on the good quality of the corn.
In this way they bought them at the stalls, as
Don Martín would have done many years ago, and in truth, the children did not
understand the true message of the father:
That by removing that land, after producing a
few years, it would return to yield as years ago. And, although they did not
become rich as before, now they did take great care of the money they earned
with the sweat of their brow, and they also sent the contributions, which by
agreement corresponded to the Church, where the priest gave Mass happy to have
fulfilled his promise.
END
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