
Photo by Denise Jans on Unsplash
«La forma más común de la desesperación es no ser quien eres».
«The most common form of despair is not being who you are».
— Sören Aabye Kierkegaard
E S P A Ñ O L
FILTROS II
Llegó la noche y mi incomodidad era más pesada. No podía discernir si lo que padecía en mi cabeza era un simple dolor o era producto del disgusto, pero ya que estábamos aquí en el campo, decidí dar una vuelta y respirar aire fresco. Camila dormía, jamás la había visto tan tranquila desde quedó embarazada. Me asomé por el pasillo y caminé hasta encontrar una salida. Era extraño como el ambiente nocturno se había tornado con una luz purpurea. Decidí no prestar atención y seguí caminando.
Mi piel se veía más blanca, no sé si era por el cansancio, pero era extraño verla tan clara. Se sentía más tersa, sin asperezas ni venas sobresalientes. Vi el paisaje afuera de la finca y anonadado pensé que estaba soñando. Las colinas eran rojas y el cielo color violeta. Los troncos de los árboles llevaban un marrón intenso y las paredes de los edificios dos tonos plateados y escarlatas.
Me miré un momento en el reflejo de la ventana y pensé que no era yo mismo, pues tanto mis ojos, la fisonomía de mi rostro y mi color de piel, había cambiado por completo. Me veía más joven y mi cabello estaba más liso y sedoso. No sabía que pensar sobre el hermoso y extraño panorama que estaba ante mí. Lentamente veía un baile de esporas danzar frente a los cristales. Sonreí, pues, quedé embelesado, y mientras disfrutaba de mi gozo, escuché palabras inenarrables que se perdían rápidamente al fondo del pasillo.
Tuve algo de miedo, pero decidí averiguar quién era. Pasé la cocina y encontré a un muchacho que daba vueltas y caminaba a todas partes sin sentido. Parecía balbucear algunas cosas, era raro y se sujetaba la cabeza con locura. Vestía con ropa negra de una época remota, sus ojos eran almendrados y su cabello castaño. Su piel tenía el mismo tono que la mía, y su voz era temerosa en constante espanto.
—¿Quién eres? —Le pregunté, buscando que finalmente se callara.
—Una cosa no puede ser otra… ¡El tiempo tiene que transcurrir! Una cosa no puede ser otra… ¡El tiempo tiene que…! —Y repetía una y otra vez la misma oración, como si estuviera bajo la influencia de algún trance.
—¡Mírame a los ojos y cállate! —Le grité, pero él evadía mi mirada mientras seguía repitiendo las mismas palabras. Lo miré fijamente; inerte, pues su rostro se me hacía bastante familiar. Comencé a recabar en mi mente donde pude haberlo visto, pero mi memoria no daba nada.
Al otro lado de la cocina, justo en la entrada, se escucharon unos pasos rimbombantes de tacones de mujer, y al darme vuelta, vislumbré a una persona, con el rostro cubierto una penumbra púrpura, sosteniendo un enorme reloj de manecilla en sus manos. Accionó un botón y todo el ambiente a nuestro alrededor se desvanecía, y en un chasquido, todo se volvió oscuridad.
Abrí mis ojos lentamente, era ya de día y me hallaba de nuevo en mi cama. Asombrado me levanté, miré a un lado y Camila ya no estaba. Me vestí, acomodé mi cabello y fui a la sala principal, donde mi esposa y mi tía estaban teniendo una charla amena con café.
—¡Cariño, por fin te levantaste! —Espetó Camila sonriendo con estupor.
—Parece que el estar aquí le ha dado mejor descanso. —Dijo mi tía antes de dar un sorbo de café.
—Yo anoche no pude dormir bien, bueno… no sé si lo estuve soñando. Me levanté para tomar aire fresco y escuché los balbuceos fuertes de un hombre.
—¡Ah!, ese era tu tío Rolando. —Aclaró mi tía dejándonos a mí y a Camila asombrados. —Por las noches se levanta y comienza a decir cosas sin sentido, no sé si lo sabes querido, pero tu tío tiene demencia.
—Sí, algo había escuchado…
—Esporádicamente traigo un médico para que lo trate pero cada día está peor. No quiero encerrarlo en un geriátrico pues no hay ninguno de mi confianza. Solo espero que algún día se mejore.
—Pero tía, el muchacho que vi no era mi tío, era un chico joven; mucho más que yo, era…—Me quedé sin palabras, al ver una fotografía sobre la repisa.
—¡Era él! —Vociferé señalando con el dedo. —¡El muchacho que vi anoche en la cocina, es el mismo de esta foto!
Mi tía se levantó de su sillón, con una expresión de asombro se acercó a mí y me arrebató la fotografía con sutileza para verla con detenimiento. Después fijó su mirada hacia mí y con cara de espanto me dijo:
—Cariño, esta es una foto de tu tío hace cincuenta años.
Quedé completamente inerte, y estoy seguro que Camila quedó igual que yo.
—¿Cómo? ¡Imposible! Yo…
—Puede que si estabas soñando y esta fotografía haya quedado en tu mente. Disculpen, hablar de Rolando en la situación en la que está es complicado para mí.
—Está bien, lo entendemos. —Intervino Camila para aligerar la situación. —Cariño, que tal si me acompañas afuera, ¿quieres?
Aún no salía de mi asombro, pero mi esposa me tomó del brazo y me llevó afuera ligeramente. Pensé que me volvía loco, pero también estaba seguro que mis ojos no me engañaban. ¿Ahora que iba hacer? Camila se veía muy a gusto y yo cada vez estaba abrumado. Algo extraño pasaba en esta casa, y aunque el miedo es un agente obstaculizador, estaba decidido en averiguar lo que ocurría.
CONTINUARÁ...
E N G L I S H
FILTERS II
Night came and my discomfort was heavier. I could not discern if what I was suffering from in my head was a simple pain or if it was the result of disgust, but since we were here in the countryside, I decided to take a walk and breathe some fresh air. Camila was sleeping, I had never seen her so calm since she became pregnant. I peeked down the hallway and walked until I found an exit. It was strange how the night environment had turned to a purple light. I decided not to pay attention and kept walking.
My skin looked whiter, I don't know if it was because I was tired, but it was strange to see it so clear. It felt smoother, without roughness or protruding veins. I saw the landscape outside the farm and, dumbfounded, I thought I was dreaming. The hills were red and the sky was violet. The tree trunks were a deep brown and the walls of the buildings were two shades of silver and scarlet.
I looked at myself for a moment in the reflection of the window and thought that I was not myself, because my eyes, the physiognomy of my face and my skin color had changed completely. I looked younger and my hair was smoother and silkier. I didn't know what to think about the beautiful and strange sight before me. Slowly I saw a dance of spores dancing in front of the glass. I smiled, well, I was enraptured, and as I was enjoying my bliss, I heard unspeakable words being quickly lost at the end of the hallway.
I was a little afraid, but decided to find out who it was. I passed the kitchen and found a boy who was pacing around and walking everywhere nonsensically. He seemed to be babbling some things, was weird and was holding his head madly. He was dressed in black clothes from a remote era, his eyes were almond-shaped and his hair was brown. His skin was the same tone as mine, and his voice was fearful in constant fright.
-Who are you? -I asked him, finally trying to get him to shut up.
-One thing can't be another... Time must pass! One thing can't be another... Time has to...! -And he repeated the same sentence over and over again, as if he were under the influence of some trance.
-Look me in the eye and shut up! -I shouted at him, but he avoided my gaze as he kept repeating the same words. I stared at him; inert, for his face was quite familiar to me. I began to search my mind for where I might have seen him, but my memory gave me nothing.
On the other side of the kitchen, just inside the entrance, there was the sound of a woman's booming footsteps, and as I turned around, I caught a glimpse of a person, his face covered in a purple gloom, holding a huge hand-wound clock in his hands. She pushed a button and the whole atmosphere around us faded away, and in a snap, everything became darkness.
I opened my eyes slowly, it was already daylight and I was back in my bed. Startled, I got up, looked to the side and Camila was gone. I got dressed, arranged my hair and went to the main room, where my wife and my aunt were having a nice chat over coffee.
-Honey, you're finally up! -Camila smiled in amazement.
-It seems that being here has given you a better rest. -Said my aunt before taking a sip of coffee.
-I couldn't sleep well last night, well... I don't know if I was dreaming it. I got up to get some fresh air and heard the loud babbling of a man.
-Ah, that was your uncle Rolando! -My aunt clarified, leaving me and Camila astonished. -At night he gets up and starts saying nonsense, I don't know if you know it dear, but your uncle has dementia.
-Yes, I had heard something....
-I sporadically bring a doctor to treat him, but he's getting worse every day. I don't want to lock him up in a nursing home because there is no one I trust. I just hope that someday he will get better.
-But Aunt, the boy I saw was not my uncle, he was a young boy; much older than me, he was... -I was speechless, when I saw a photograph on the shelf.
-It was him! -I shouted, pointing my finger. -The boy I saw last night in the kitchen is the same one in this picture!
My aunt got up from her armchair, with an astonished expression she approached me and subtly took the photograph from me to look at it carefully. Then she fixed her gaze on me and with a frightened face she said:
-Honey, this is a picture of your uncle fifty years ago.
I remained completely inert, and I'm sure that Camila was just like me.
-How? Impossible! I...
-Maybe you were dreaming and this picture stayed in your mind. I'm sorry, talking about Rolando in the situation he's in is complicated for me.
-It's okay, we understand. -Camila intervened to lighten the situation. -Honey, how about accompanying me outside, do you want to?
I still couldn't get over my astonishment, but my wife took me by the arm and led me slightly outside. I thought I was going crazy, but I was also sure that my eyes were not deceiving me. Now what was I going to do? Camila looked very much at ease and I was getting more and more overwhelmed. Something strange was going on in this house, and although fear is a hindering agent, I was determined to find out what was going on.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Written by @universoperdido. 1 de Febrero del 2022
Escrito por @universoperdido. February 1, 2022
Other publications of my authorship | Otras publicaciones de mi autoría
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