DISCLAIMING THUNDER

“Old Richard, I don't see how that affects me, except for the fact that you're almost helping me get rid of my bottles of booze; I'll have to go buy more very soon.”

“Don't worry, I promise to get to that point. What happens is that your love is almost impossible, or not impossible; it's more like an imbecilic love. You are the one who wants to complicate things, or maybe things are not what they seem. Because it seemed to me that that mafioso with whom his girlfriend left is an old acquaintance that has something to do with you. I'm going to get my head together while I continue telling you the story. Where were we going?”

“They built them a house, they gave them a market, and even money; better said, that misfortune went well for them, even for Luis, who fell in love with Luisa, except for the part where he almost got sliced.”

“Oh yes, that's where my friend appears, who was attracted there by the news. He arrives with all his instruments, analyzing the ground. He tried to look for the remains of the ranch, although no one would give him a reason because they had already been sold for scrap. Likewise, he analyzed the soil, took out pendulums, tested the soil, and wrote down each thing in a small, shiny notebook that contrasted with his shabby clothes, although they looked expensive. He knocked on Monroe's door, and when he opened it, he greeted them like this:

“Good morning. I came because you needed me, although you don't know why.”

The mother thought that this strange old man had come to give her some help, and judging by his scanty luggage, it should be in cash. What a joy, because the beer cupboard was almost empty, so she answered him:

“Yes, sir, we are attentive to any blessing, but we are still very bad.”

My friend entered sitting on the sofa, which was uncomfortable, maybe because it was new or maybe because the carpenter had donated it. While he introduced himself by saying a thousand gadgets, he observed each part of the house and each of the lady's children; only when he observed Luisa did he remain silent, until he said to her:

“Hello, my name is Michel. What is your name? Why are you here?”

To which the very shy young woman answered:

“My name is Luisa; this is my house, and Michel is a woman's name.”

He laughed loudly, smiled, and told her:

“I don't know how you were saved; the fact that I destroyed your house is very powerful, and where I come from is a man's name.”

He approached her, looking her in the eyes. Likewise, he grabbed the small white hand that contrasted with his because it was plump, big, wrinkled, and blurred, possibly because of the sun. At the same time, he continued, saying:

“You are very strong; that's why they have been after you.”

Without letting go of her hand. He looked back at her mother to ask her:

“My little girl, I see that you are very strong; that is why they have been after you. Lady Mother, I realize that you had many difficulties with her. Right? But fortunately, someone very skilled placed some protections that have served you very well, even with the being that destroyed your house. Right, now please tell me: what symptoms did you have, and what did he tell you? And what did he tell you? How did he relieve you?”

The surprised mother clutched her hands tightly, lowered her eyes to the floor, and answered:

“Yes, it all started when she was a baby. Every night at one o'clock in the morning, her crib would squeak like a violin, so we decided it was better for her to sleep with us. But one day when I was in the bathroom, I heard the baby crying a lot, so I went for a run, alone in my towel. I thought I saw a very big snake with two arms, with which it was lifting my daughter. I tried to scream, but I couldn't get it out—just a shriek. Furthermore, I quickly began to pray the rosary and ask the Virgin for help. Finally, I was able to scream. The neighbors came into the house, broke the cans we had for walls, and were very impressed when they saw that creature. We tried to confront it with sticks and knives. But the monster was very fast; it wounded many, including me, she observes (she lifted her dress, showing four scars in a row like a claw and the one from the cesarean section). The whole neighborhood arrived, even the priest, who threw a jar of holy water on him, but nothing seemed to stop him. The police did not come; maybe they thought it was a trap or a mockery. Everything became even more complicated when the beast out of nowhere took out a thunderbolt with the one he wielded, breaking the cans like paper and putting everyone at bay. Except me, who ran towards it to prevent him from kidnapping my girl. Because of the race, I dropped my towel, and I was all naked. The beast threw me his lightning, and I could see how he broke the roof, as when you cut foam with a hot knife. I saw them above my head, and the only thing I could do was close my eyes and pray.

The last thing I felt was someone putting the towel on me. I opened my eyes and saw him—a strong, bearded man with a cowboy hat. Who, without my feeling, pulled me to a corner, saving me. I could see him groping the floor while dressing me to avoid being seen by the morbid, of which there are plenty. Immediately, he stood in front of the beast, where I could see that his yellowish eyes were now shivering. The leviathan, with its energy lights, molded like a machete and threw itself with all its might to split my savior. He very calmly pulled out a staff that even seemed to be made of wood like the ones used to train cows, and with that, he stopped the attacks. Dislodging them to continue hitting the beast, he beat it until the beast fell on its face. He took the opportunity to take out a little square bottle like the one where they keep the perfume in the movies, spraying all the contents. Then, like an old soap opera leading man, he took out a cigar, lit it, put it in his mouth, and sucked in a puff of smoke. He raised his beautiful face, exhaling a gray jet towards the destroyed roof, and threw the lighter at the beast, which was getting up again. That prevented him from making this move because it was quickly incinerated, and not even the ashes were left to check if that really happened or if it was a product of the imagination of those of us who remember. The hero left, but not before lifting my baby. He grabbed her hand and looked into her eyes as you did, and he spoke a few words in another language, perhaps English or Quechua. My husband arrived at that moment and assumed from the anguish that the monster was that hero. So he grabbed a club and swung it across his back. But it was as if the wood was made of porcelain; it broke into a thousand pieces without doing him the slightest harm, I quickly grabbed it, telling him that this was our savior. When he finished with his prayers, he told us that we had to take good care of her because she would be followed forever and that the protection he had given her was strong but not perfect. That we should please plant aloe and rue in the house, and he left without accepting anything in return. We offered him to stay and eat; my husband even took out all the money we had to give him; however, he left on a beautiful chrome bicycle, one of those thin ones used by those who go up to the moors.”

The strange old man scratched his beard, asking him another question:

“Didn't he tell you his name, or did he have any symbols on his clothing?”

“No, he told us, on his costume he had many symbols; one of them, I don't forget, was like an arrow with two small lines like an equal in its middle, and it was enclosed in an oval.”

The old man laughed, throwing back his big head, and said as if thinking out loud:

“oh! So Marco was here, he usually has the gift of being close to these situations, on the other hand, I am often late, lol.””