S H ORT
S T O RI E S
Uncle Toño Original of Manuel Camacho, San Joaquin Delta College, Stockton, CA
T
io (uncle) Toño lost his eye in a small-town quarrel. All witnesses knew Tio Toño won the card hand fair and square. But just as a movie would call for, the loser claimed he was cheated, took out his revolver and pulled the trigger twice. The first bullet penetrated Tío Toño’s left eye and the second went through his chest. Tio Toño fell heavily over the chairs, gushing out blood and screaming in pain. His executioner, terrified at his own stupidity, fled the place. Tio Benjamin, the town’s doctor, soon arrived and, seeing his own family’s blood spilled, went straight for the wound, sucking like a baby ‘till he extracted the still hot lead. Tio Toño breathed new life while —with his good eye— saw Death going away in between yio Benjamin’s teeth. Unfortunately, Tio Benjamin’s medical skills could not keep Tio Toño from becoming just another one-eyed man. A few days later, the aggressor’s body was found outside the town, his chest riddled with bullets aimed at the heart. Everyone in town knew that death is legitimate when avenging cowardice; thus, it neither lamented nor complained and the issue was never brought up again. Each year, Tio Toño traveled to the city to visit the family. He would arrive loaded with old traditions tightly packed in shoeboxes: the most succulent cheese, the most exquisite chorizo, guava rolls, myrtle jelly, and so on. It was a flavorful celebration of nostalgia that his sister was quick to hide like priceless gifts which were only to be shared with a few ‘chosen’ ones that she would invite to partake in secret, spying over her shoulder, showing them the contents first —as if they were precious jewels— and meting out a tiny fraction that she handed out like a sacred act, saying: “Just a bit ‘cause it’s holy; it has to last.” The trip to the city also allowed Tio Toño to shop special requests for his family and acquaintances. He said the people in his town were fascinated with shoes, especially, shoeboxes. They used them to store multiple things: from worthless objects to great treasures. After all, in that town, life itself would fit in a shoebox. Manito was given the job to go with Tio Toño to buy shoes. He was curious about his uncle’s dry, reticent, oneeyed appearance, difficult to decipher. He would fix his eye on his uncle’s lifeless eye and his squinting eyelids. Manito would slowly turn and lean his head to one side, trying to scrutinize his uncle’s empty tomblike eye. Tio Toño, not saying a word, caught Manito in the act with his good eye, as if saying: “Over here, boy,” bringing him back to reality. Even then, Manito kept orbiting around his uncle like an insect, both invisible and annoying. Innocently, Manito wondered: “If I’m in his blinded side, would he notice I’m there?” Until Tio Toño caught him, grabbing Manito’s neck with his left hand, placing his thumb and index fingers like continued on next page
•
E L
C U ENTO
(FIRST OF TWO PARTS / PRIMERA DE DOS PARTES)
El tíoToño
E
l tío Toño perdió el ojo en una trifulca de pueblo. Los testigos todos sabían que el tío Toño había ganado la partida de naipes a toda ley. Pero tal como lo marca el destino cinematográfico, el otro sacó el revólver acusando trampa y jaló del gatillo dos veces. La primera bala penetró en el ojo izquierdo y la segunda se introdujo en el pecho. El tío Toño cayó pesadamente sobre las sillas del local, chorreando sangre y gritando de dolor. Su verdugo, aterrado por su propia estupidez, salió huyendo del lugar. Pronto llegó el tío Benjamín, doctor del pueblo, que al ver correr su propia sangre se prendió del buco sangrante y succionó como bebé hasta sacarle el plomo aún caliente. El herido exhaló nueva vida mientras con el buen ojo observaba cómo se alejaba la muerte entre los dientes del tío Benjamín. Lamentablemente las dotes de médico del tío Benjamín no pudieron evitar que el tío Toño se convirtiera en un tuerto más. A los pocos días encontraron el cuerpo del agresor a las afueras del pueblo, con el pecho completamente destrozado. Las balas fueron todas directas al corazón para que jamás volviera a latir. Todo el pueblo sabía la legitimidad de la muerte por una cobardía; no hubo lamentos ni quejas, y nunca se volvió a hablar del asunto. Cada año, el tío Toño viajaba a la ciudad a visitar a la familia. Llegaba cargado de tradiciones de antaño bien empacadas en cajas de zapatos: el más suculento queso, chorizo exquisito, rollo de guayaba, jalea de arrayanes, en fin, toda una nostálgica celebración de sabor que luego su hermana guardaba con recelo, como prendas invaluables que solamente compartiría con algunos elegidos. Los llamaba muy en secreto, siempre mirando por todos lados, y primero les mostraba el contenido tal si fueran preciosas alhajas. Partía una fracción y se las extendía cual acto sagrado diciendo: “Poquito porque es bendito; y para que no se acabe”. El tío Toño aprovechaba el viaje a la ciudad para satisfacer los encargos de familiares y conocidos. Decía que a la gente en el pueblo le fascinaban los zapatos; sobre todo, las cajas de zapatos. Las usaban para multiplicidad de cosas: desde almacenar objetos sin valor hasta los más grandes tesoros. Después de todo, en aquel pueblo, la vida misma cabía en una caja de zapatos. A Manito se le asignó la tarea de acompañar al tío a la compra de zapatos. Sentía una gran curiosidad por el aspecto seco del viejo, reticente, tuerto, difícil de descifrar. Fijaba la mirada en aquel ojo muerto, de párpados exprimidos. Lentamente viraba e inclinaba la cabeza, tratando de escrutar esa vacía tumba de ojo. El tío, sin decir palabra, con continúa a la vuelta el buen ojo, lo capturaba al MAY 2015 Joaquín 25