OPERATION "WATER"
Story Winner 2 nd Prize Watcher Coast 2011 Mercedes Martin Alfaya
* *
was a senseless death. Do not blame anyone. Although, if I had to find a spark of that came from the facts, that it led to my mother.
I had just come from the faculty. I went home and, as usual, I dropped the books at the dinner table.
─ Grandma, I'm here! Where goes the most beautiful in the world? ... No answer.
I went to the bathroom.
While the liquid drained lemon yellow, secreted by the kidneys, which then passed to the bladder and is expelled through the urethra to the outside, I realized that something did not fit on the shelf. It was known there, the only one using a device I was shaving, because the grandmother did not, and Mom got along with the wax. Who was then that set of brush, razor and soap placed so richly in our bathroom?
─ Grandma! ─ turned to scream. Then appeared.
He brought a breath of heaviness in his eye.
─ What's up? ─ asked, walking in the light around.
I explained that mom had committed to taking a tenant, a friend without a job who was in distress. His argument was that as she paid the mortgage on the flat, I could get home to anyone who wanted. A 'quienquisiera' I met him later, when he finished settling in our lives. Feet tall, and pot-bellied old man. The guy in shorts strolled through the kitchen, toilet piss off or cut the fat sliced \u200b\u200bham, I had imported a 'Guevara', total, for which I stopped at home ... But then, when I heard what that was cooking on my back, I rode that of May 2.
─
think not that I'm going to sleep in the room comes a stranger and get into my room!
─ Leonardo! Cried my mother, who only called me when he crossed the wires ─ Mira I call your father comes in and the chart.
─ What next? But if my father decades ago mustache since he came here. So we go to the youth: no job prospects, without parental references, not one euro in your pocket ... And to top it off, now, without the right to occupy the four walls that you own after the age of one and a half. No, no, I'm not going to sleep on the couch, so send my father, the father of the country, which is in heaven or the prime minister himself.
Di slam and went, without explanation, without food and, above all, without the jacket, I know that my mother fucking much.
When I returned, there were my notes, my movie collection, my stethoscope, my game of rackets, balls ... all packed in the hallway. Oh, God! ... I could even remotely imagine that, thereafter, the only possessive that I kept their own space and identifiable, and not mine: my room was renamed your room (it), so , around the nose. Two alternatives: either agree to eviction without protest or emancipate you: it most unlikely option, since I am a student, I have a penny I do not know put a washer, or cooking. Mop gives me allergies and the iron does not understand me, and I singed the navel to the peak to stretch a shirt.
─
Peace, Leo, look for a site for your stuff. ─ the grandmother, who unfortunately was positioned on my side from the beginning.
still, and before he returned the guy with the rest of their belongings, I had time to rescue some pictures of my friends hanging on the wall would not stop at the mercy of anyone's eyes . Now, as you can think of touching the posters of Homer Simpson, is the need to see me.
In the afternoon, turned mom. He introduced me to his friend. "Hi," I said without getting up, and kept watching TV, not going to mount a welcome mat ...
─ Leo, son, help your grandmother in the kitchen while accompanied Ferdinand to his room. I looked askance, I rummaged in the seat and ended up biting my nails. Not explode because the wages would have cost me playing ─ and once for refusing to throw in the trash ─, but hey, so was not going to be the thing.
That night, of course, did not need to come my father engages me on the sofa with two pillows, a blanket, the blanket of flowers and crocheted washcloth hanging back, every time I looked, made me want to blow my snot on it.
I spent the week without a miserable little room in which to escape, listening to music, collect dirty clothes or get my girlfriend. Since then, she did not tell, I felt a cockroach cornered. I said, and believed it, that we were changing the ground, and, over time, better not come at home. Without wifi, the computer on the table the host and the urgent recommendation of Don Fernando disturb the right and necessary, to see how I was explaining to my girlfriend who could not communicate via Messenger.
─ Bethlehem, baby, what fault do I have that this clinker is mounted at home and one of the builders will charge the monitor to moving it?, People, it is very unprofessional ...
Since my closet could not disengage from the wall was built, "and my clothes were inside, I was supposed to, from time to time, could enter the bedroom to get my stuff. Came, I changed shirts, slippers, looking for my gym bag, I tried a sweatshirt, another ..., jeans, those before ... maybe a tracksuit ... does not ... My plan: annoying, annoying and hassle. Meanwhile, the guy poker face waiting at the door by tapping the ground with his foot. Of course, every time I bumped into him in the hall I would pull the jaw and ear biting me.
The grandmother, meanwhile, I spent the part:
─ This morning, when he went to buy a newspaper, I was snooping through his stuff. Have pictures with all that rabble of magazines: the Masiel, the Almodóvar ..., and with the King. You know, that friend of your mother is a picky. Has bought a minibar, one of those modern refrigerators that looks like a stool. Inside, keep a few bottles of mineral water. What, you tap the loose the belly?
─ Grandma, "I protested," you do not get, you know that Mom is a genius of thunder. If you learn to spy on his friend, just bundled us both.
This soap opera had become my life, when it happened what had to happen.
was in anatomy class. I looked out the window unattended when Victor gave me a note: "Kid, you take some time in the land of the zombies." Since then the issue affected me, not just because of losing my space but for the obvious personal negative defeat. After school, I spoke with him.
─
get in the water you drink a drop of antifreeze from the car and send it to another neighborhood without a trace ─. Victor joked.
That night, I dreamed of bottles and jugs of antifreeze that chase me everywhere. "Help! Want to kill me "─ I cried. And the bottles are multiplying as the mercury hit them with my racket. I woke up sweating, tachycardia and dry mouth. Imagine that guy as a gustito in my bed while I was debating between the crocheted doily, the narrowness of the sofa and nightmares saturated my inner monster. To hell with my career, my girlfriend, my friends, my tennis trophies, weekly pay and five boxes of condoms that I caught in a tender. In my head and there was only one idea: "Charge this guy."
the moment, and to avoid suspicion, I adopted a more tolerant attitude at home. For example, total looked to Don Fernando stoicism free to leave the bathroom when I wanted. If the need was imminent, I grabbed the fly with both hands and wait. I even went to school with the same clothes the day before, to avoid having to enter the room, look in the closet and inconvenience to the tenant. Mom was delighted, surprised his friend and grandmother a little fly. My plan, however, paid no doubt. He had started what I called "Operation Water." To do this, I needed the hours in which Fernando was not at home, access to one of your bottles and pour some antifreeze in the water. I do not know if it worked or was it just a joke that was marked Victor, certainly, nothing lost in trying. Needed, yes, the collaboration of the grandmother.
─ I'll change my clothes. You stay at the door, and if you listen Fernando reach let me know. Ok, Grandma?
Poor thing, now think of it, should have told the truth to say that I was going to charge this guy, not to worry, that the method was safe, and without fingerprints. But I did not.
water bottles in his fridge Fernando kept me greatly facilitated work, always found an open window. Unscrewed the cap and dropped a trickle of product, which was diluted in a perfect camouflage. From there, when we passed in the hallway, kitchen or bathroom door, studying the face of my victim, his movements, the tone of his voice ..., looking for signs that I confirm the effect. However, apart from a slight cold, the he recovered quickly, I found no other sign that adding a bit of optimism for my future. The guy looked like a freshly painted door: glitter in her hair, ingrown cheeks, gloss, luster and shine. Still, you have to stick a shot of poison was me, kill me and go.
Amid such vagary, appeared grandmother.
─ Do you know ...? Puñeta anyone makes my grandson without getting my revenge.
─ Revenge? ─ strange question.
─ That is, honey. If the preppy that only drink bottled water than tap water is you feel bad.
turned pale ...
─ What do you mean, grandmother? Inquire ─ disoriented.
─ lot. She answered ─ mischievous face. ─ I am changing the water bottles for tap. To see if it causes colitis and goes to sleep in the bathroom.
"Well, my plan to ruin" ─ I thought. I winked and pinched her nose. What else could I do? ... However, before entering the kitchen, unclear thinking I walked through the front.
─ Grandma, tell me, if you're changing the water at the tap, what do you do with it was in the bottle?
─ What do you think, dear? So expensive that is life ... Then drink it, honey. Drink it.
0 comments:
Post a Comment