cuentos de barro - DSpace Universidad Don Bosco
cuentos de barro - DSpace Universidad Don Bosco
cuentos de barro - DSpace Universidad Don Bosco
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subido <strong>de</strong>l lado <strong>de</strong> la sombra y, cuando<br />
cumbrearon al jaz <strong>de</strong> la paré <strong>de</strong> adobe<br />
<strong>de</strong> la casa <strong>de</strong>l brujo, la luna los pintó<br />
<strong>de</strong> yeso y <strong>de</strong> carbón. Rondaron la casa<br />
hasta dar con la puerta <strong>de</strong> tablas, que<br />
estaba cerrada, pero con luz en las<br />
heridas. Felipe llamó, golpeando con el<br />
<strong>de</strong>do. La voz <strong>de</strong> Mujica se oyó friolenta<br />
<strong>de</strong> vejez:<br />
—Rempujá, Felipió...<br />
Felipe empujó y entró, seguido <strong>de</strong><br />
Chema, quien llegaba aflegido a la vez<br />
que curioso.<br />
El brujo estaba sentado en una calavera<br />
<strong>de</strong> vaca y envuelto en un perraje<br />
colorado. Tenía por <strong>de</strong>lante un hornillo,<br />
sobre una mesita; y en él echaba, al<br />
<strong>de</strong>scuido, granitos <strong>de</strong> una resina que<br />
jedía a cacho. Era consu mido y <strong>de</strong> ojos<br />
ñublados, prieto como laja <strong>de</strong> dulce<br />
amelcochado y con bigote gris en<br />
las puntas <strong>de</strong> la boca. Al mirarle con<br />
cuidado la nuca y las manos, parecía<br />
como hecho <strong>de</strong> hule en bruto. Les<br />
ofreció taburete.<br />
—¿Qué les sirvo, muchá, la oración <strong>de</strong>l<br />
puro o el muñeco <strong>de</strong> cera?<br />
Chema no comprendía. Felipe se puso<br />
grave.<br />
—Para éste —dijo con voz temblona—<br />
la oración; para mí, una muñeca con<br />
aljiler en el mero corazón.<br />
175<br />
shady si<strong>de</strong> and when they reached the<br />
summit the moon painted them with<br />
coal and chalk on the si<strong>de</strong> of the wall of<br />
the adobe house of the sorcerer. They<br />
walked around the house until they<br />
found the woo<strong>de</strong>n door. It was closed,<br />
but with light emerged in the wounds.<br />
Felipe knocked on the door with his<br />
knuckles. Mujica’s voice, frozen with<br />
age, answered:<br />
“Push the door, Felipe.”<br />
Felipe pushed and entered, followed by<br />
Chema, who was nervous and curious<br />
at the same time.<br />
The sorcerer, seated on a cow’s skull,<br />
was wrapped in a red shawl. In front<br />
of him there was a small stove on a<br />
small table. He put grains of resin that<br />
smelled like a bull’s horn. The sorcerer<br />
was very skinny with cloudy eyes, dark<br />
like a piece of molasses candy. His gray<br />
mustache trailed down the si<strong>de</strong>s of his<br />
mouth. Taking a closer look, he seemed<br />
like ma<strong>de</strong> out of rough rubber. He<br />
offered them stools.<br />
“What would you like boys, the cigar<br />
prayer or the wax figure?”<br />
Chema did not un<strong>de</strong>rstand. Felipe’s<br />
voice turned grave.<br />
“For this one,” he said with shaky voice<br />
pointing at his brother “the prayer. For<br />
me, a doll with pins stabbing right into<br />
the heart.”