THE STORM DOES NOT CALM

“Don't let the night break!” exclaimed a madman who was called Coffee Cup for having only one ear and who faithfully assumed that if he did not shout this throughout the neighborhood, the sky would collapse. Perhaps he was right because that night, when he was about to begin his task, an ex-insurgent insulted him for insisting on this absurdity, and without saying a word, a coffee cup gave him a jug. Similarly, the person who was pardoned but was not found innocent He thought of himself as more important than others, and despite the fact that he started first, he was unaffected by the town crier's actions. In retaliation for the action, he pulled out one of his guns and broke this “little savior of his world” forever. I hope he is caught and tried. That this crime does not go unpunished like those he committed when he was an official militant, covered by a false demobilization, which like many noble acts of the government concealed some dark economic motives. I now resembled the beautiful cream of a nauseating cake, of which the top leaders took big slices.

In that same neighborhood, the next morning, Luis opened his eyes. Disoriented, he thought for a few seconds that it was a normal day and that he would have to hurry to go to his occupation, which was to look for a job, something very complicated in these dark times. When he was about to get up, a sharp pain in his chest, in addition to the pressure of the bandage that made it difficult for him to breathe, brought him back to reality. Making him suddenly remember what had happened the night before. With effort, he rolled over to the edge of his bed and lay down on his stomach, placing his legs on the floor, where he carefully rolled back to minimize the pain. He reached for his flip-flops as the icy cement floor made it painful to urinate. This overwhelmed him until he couldn't stand it, and a groan came out. That caused the door to open, revealing beautiful eyes that showed concern. It was Luisa, whose eagerness to help made her forget caution and open the room at the cry of her savior. Her face was so upset from crying over the tragedy that even though he diminished it, it was still there because they were there. Although everyone alive was faced with the harsh reality of having lost the little they had, for them, it was their world. He saw her as beautiful as if the whole house ran behind her, and the landscape became blurry and bright, highlighting her as a divine apparition, which for a few moments made him forget all his pain. Seconds, or perhaps minutes, passed before the souls of these young people seemed to merge without even touching each other. His brother came to help him out to the dining room for breakfast, breaking the magical silence.

At the table were the two parents, talking as friends despite having had some clashes, especially over soccer and politics. Both mothers were in charge of the kitchen, and two girls were waitresses. It was as if everyone was walking in pairs. Except Luis, who was helped to walk by his brother, to whom he leaned almost all his weight. And by Linda, who, knowing he was not very strong, did not lean against her, but tried to rub against her to feel her warmth.

At breakfast, there was an aroma of camaraderie mixed with uncertainty. As expected, Don Fabio, Luis' father, spoke at the head of the dining room:

“I want to tell you that for me, it is a pleasure to be able to help our friends and neighbors, the Monroe's. Too bad that under these circumstances, my family is very happy to be of great help.”

To which the other father, Don Car, naturally responded:

“For us, it is an honor to be here in your glorious home. We are infinitely grateful for your great hospitality. I also take this opportunity to thank and apologize to young Luis, because it was a miracle that he heard my daughter's calls for help and, without hesitation, he helped us. I am very sorry that some debris almost killed him, and although we lost almost everything, we still have the most important thing, which is life and health, as well as the best friends and neighbors in the world.”

So much lambasting and etiquette came together on the part of some people who used to hate each other, but who had been united by misfortune and soon by marriage or something similar.

The clerk of the drugstore knocked at the door, interrupting their breakfast. She arrived to change Luis' bandages, the ones she had put on the night before. Which surprised him, His clothes had been ripped by claws. Although, luckily, he was not seriously injured, there was something very strange in the cuts with a greenish tone that reminded him of the wounds of the miners because of the dynamite. Besides, he had a reason for the Monroe's; the news of his misfortune had spread like wildfire in the town square. The people from the Christian church had already arrived to help them, so they went. Although they were not very devout, since they said they were Catholics, they went to that church sometimes when they gave markets or lunches. That is why the pastors knew them very well—I mean, why they went and pretended to be suffering in order to get as much help as possible. They hurried to breakfast, almost passing the whole loaf of bread and sipping the very hot coffee. They left in haste and began their procession of loud cries a few meters before reaching the place where their home used to be and which was now a place of pilgrimage for curious onlookers. But there were also some foreigners gathered who came from the head office of that church and who welcomed them with open arms and cried with them.

After the show of tears, construction materials began to arrive, and from under the rocks came workers to rebuild the house, or better yet, this time to build a sturdy house. Collaboration arrived as if by magic, thanks to the divine presence of the news.

“But wait, old Mike, you said it was very old, and now you come out with what people helped to get on the news.”

“Yes, it is very old; the thing is that at that time there was also something similar, and besides, suddenly your temporal perception is not the same as the one I have. Besides, people helped just to look for fifteen minutes of fame. No, the main thing was the disinterested sense of helping—what moved all those hands that did in a few days, what was not done in years—a house of cement and bricks. Thus turning around the misfortune of the Monroe's, they even got appliances that they never had and even food to throw away because they did not know how to eat it. Clothes and money that the father promised to buy what was missing. And he did it, but according to him, what was missing were liters of beer.

Soon the Monroe's were living in their new home, which was even inaugurated with a mass. Linda's parents promised to be better neighbors and even to invite Luis' parents to lunch often. But this was a promise even emptier than the edge of the galaxy; what did last was the friendship between the young people of reference, and it did not stop their storm of love.”