Illustration by Gavin O’Melia
Ol’ Matías struggles to put on his long socks.
“Go, go,” the lad whispers.
The Gal is doing her thing.
Ol’ Matías finishes putting on his socks and forgets what goes next.
Francisco, the guy with glasses, arrives.
The Gal continues doing her thing.
Ol’ Matías remembers the shoes.
“Look at that,” whispers José.
The Gal puts her hands on her back.
Ol’ Matías finds the shoes under the cot.
“Where is Andrés?” Francisco asks.
The gal scratches her left ear.
Ol’ Matías ties his shoelaces.
“Go to the path,” Guillermo replies, “and try to spot him”.
The gal makes sure her bun is tied tightly so it doesn’t come undone.
Ol’ Matías stands up from the cot with his shoes on.
Francisco, his breath caught in his throat and his pants heavy, climbs.
The gal bends her knees.
Ol’ Matías finds the striped shirt.
Andrés, with the chest out, sees Francisco at the edge of the slope.
The gal can feel the heat leave her body.
Ol’ Matías buttons his shirt.
Francisco signals to Andrés.
‘‘No one can stand this,’’ the lad says to herself.
‘‘I take my machete and put it in its sheath,’’ Ol’ Matías sings as he adjusts his revolver.
Francisco pulls Andrés and helps him down the slope.
The gal gets back to where she started.
“I sharpen it at night, I use it at dawn,” Ol’ Matías keeps singing while looking for his hat.
“Look at that,” Francisco says.
The gal starts climbing.
Ol’ Matías leaves the house.
“It’s coming!”
The gal puts her hands behind her back.
Ol’ Matías walks.
Andrés steps on a large branch.
The gal stretches.
Ol’ Matías listens.
“What a thing!” one of the boys whispers.
The gal continues climbing.
Ol’ Matías approaches and stalks.
“Oh yes!”
The girl is going to show that which is not shown to anyone.
“Turn around, you creeps,” Ol’ Matías grabs his revolver.
The boys turn around, livid.
The gal shows them that which is not shown to anyone.
Ol’ Matías, gun raised, sees the boys on one bank of the river, scared to death, and on the other, his granddaughter wiping her back with a towel.
