awoke, and when he did, was again a child of seven years.
few familiar voices being lifted up in a hurry to not miss the bus. Puzzled, he noticed how they retained the smell of her room for years would ask, without success. He looked at the window, through which loomed the song of the birds that had awakened him every day of his childhood, always attached to the tune and complaint of the metal door of the car, which he later recalled most fondly that birds madrugones fools, who would hate forever. Was surprised his hands, small and free from distress, with which every one thought he could realize their dreams. He sat on the bed, but it was almost six and twenty, and then his father came into the room.
His father, whose face still had that look of mock severity that never completely conceal his satisfaction, he went and pulled the sheets, lifting the room, provoking laughter echo adormecerÃa which over the years. Landed again with an inexplicable happiness, and quickly put on his uniform: a white little shirt worn in the left pocket of his school's logo (one that would later recall as "the old seal, then change a couple of times during of education), jeans and Reebok shoes by then considered the most comfortable thing he could get one, though not bother tying up a lot in braids, distraction that would haunt him until late adulthood.
left his room and stared at the hallway that led him to the bathroom and was surprised to see its dimensions multiplied. I swore I was small, which was not surprising, since as a teenager I would go through with three strides. Upon entering the bathroom was a small stool that helped him rise to a height which allowed herself in the mirror, and there again was a familiar face: his own. Comic smiled and revealed a string of small teeth, which brushed with strength and skill, as he taught his cousin the orthodontist, seven or eight years later. He did his best to brush with uncontrollable force had killed her by the hair, and was impressed that he was not small hairs fall to do so.
left the bathroom and opened the squeaky door that separated the living room, and saw his mother approaching with all its porcelanesca smile to accommodate his uniform, because there was always some detail right, maybe a belt loop belt that he had forgotten. took his backpack and a Simpsons lunchbox no particular drawings had decorated with stickers of characters who remember it for longer than expected. He asked with a timid curiosity if I could say goodbye to his newborn sister, but as he had spent a long night filled with tears and cramps, said he better wait for lunch to say hello. A couple of hugs, blessings, and flying out of the apartment, heading to the plant low, counting each step and competing against himself, a habit that will eventually become one of the worst torments.
The ground floor of the building looked as it would be tattooed on his memory, a wide room in which there were several roads. One of them carried the parking lot through a long corridor of trunks, the other, directly opposite the former, was shorter and ended with the party room. Back were the elevators, which would prevent use by many long after power failures (though fortunately lived on the first floor), and forwards a glass wall leading to the porch and intercoms. This was where he joined his friends to wait for the bus. The
could see: the lanky figure of Albert, the driver's wife confuse him several times, and working in the school library for many years after graduation. Also saw the smiling bag fuchsia Naomi, who was called Mimi, who became one of his first friends to become pregnant in adolescence. Also saw the corpulent mass of Gentile Joshua, brother of Mimi , who remembered every time you eat tacos. These three friends were waiting for the "Transport One," which took them to school and would be driven by the same driver, Ali, long after graduation and their migration.
got on the bus are giving a greeting sleepy and almost intelligible, and sat on the penultimate row. Had to take those jobs, because at the time of departure it was almost impossible to sit in them. The red leather seats were newer than he remembered, and saw dozens of sleepy faces that would eventually forget. Some talked about how to pass the fifth dungeon of Zelda , and others, the older ones, they took the time to review your notes. He looked abstractedly the window, not to avoid being sociable with peers, but by being saturated with images that, although it was common that day had a weight and a special impact. The ride was still as we remember over the years.
The school building stood towering at the end of the steep street, still crowned by the old drive-in that gave him his name. Stepping off the bus, slyly turned the site where posters hung films and found that Chucky and was not scared at all. How could he give? if in the future would come many consequences of this ridiculous film. Entered the central courtyard of the school, and while all the students sang mechanically the anthem, was trying to detail the faces of her friends, some of which would not change much on their way to adulthood, and others whose face would look like nothing "end product". But what really was amused to see so many teachers that after years would cease to fully respect a solemnity plastic pretending to hear the notes homelands. Trying to hide their laughter behind a smile that, indeed, even he seemed a little ridiculous.
got into the room with the typical chaos of those days, preceded by the deafening ring tantrum. He thought, like so many times that the pedagogical sense some schools was bound to come from the directors of Auschwitz, and laughed a little to himself to think how strange it was that a student seven years had such a benchmark. Decided to keep his references to history and philosophy and do everything possible to act according to their age, which also form part of their modus operandi for most of his life.
The first classes were incredibly boring, but the company of his friends (and those who were to become) represented a major distraction in the midst of the monotony of the Palmer method, the Hymn to the Tree and a rather superficial explanation Cycle Water. Fortunately he always found time to talk a little bit (quietly) about Ninja Turtles, Nintendo games and even exchange Barajitas clandestinely, risking a potential cry of the teacher on duty.
A recess, made a long and noisy queue to enjoy a pie and a passion fruit juice for twenty Bs, and was amused to see his friend Wilmer, "Chinese", buy a hundred- and spent most of the change in small (and delicious) candy " Zoo." After eating, he took the rest of the time to play in the "outer court" something his friend Martin had invented a game with rules rather trivial and mutable called "The Jailer".
He met some friends in another section, but felt something different to see a small punch in the stomach so overwhelmed with sadness. How could playful Rodolfo prepare for the death of his brother? Would you know the little Federico all the suffering that would bring the separation of their parents? As yet not known, it was no use to approach them in order to warn anything. If anything I knew, was that the time had to respect their whims. Noon came
faster of what might be expected, and was back in the Transport One back home. And if that yellow and noisy bus had more than hearse school that morning, at noon was the most chaotic symphony of childhood dreams, materialized with shouts, laughter and hydrated with chupi-feelies to withstand the heat that preceded the time lunch. The window saw the facade of his building, that had the "balcony twisted" in a zigzag architectural delirium each apartment gave a different distribution.
Saying goodbye to its three neighbors (who always made fun of his reluctance to be mounted in the elevator), ran the stairs to reach the apartment number 13, which would in adulthood a silly superstition that this was indeed his lucky number. There he hoped his parents and his small (and new) younger sister in a family harmony at seven years no one is able to assess, but over time becomes the most obvious symbol of happiness.
ate willingly, to the surprise of her mother, and usually not very fond of lentils, and it would take some years before they develop a taste for grain. Right in the lunch, the phone interrupted the act of eating, and he hastened to answer it (Both to prevent his father or his mother parasen to satisfy the curiosity of who might be). He shook a wave of laughter and good things when he heard the voice of his grandmother, who greeted him with a voice almost as comforting as a hug. His mother, he realized who it was, was quick to remove the headset and talked with her briefly. "Your grandmother is on Friday to stay a week," his mother said after hanging up, creating a huge smile on his face, and a bit of disdain in his father's.
When they had finished eating and his parents did nap, sat on the couch in the balcony and did not care much sounded's cartoons on television as the street, the mountains and the minimum noise that can only remember one who succumbs to nostalgia. I was there, at home, in moments of pure joy indescribable. And perhaps such joy can not be supported by a body of seven years, because on the couch he slept on the balcony, thinking about his school, his friends, his sister and looking forward to a visit from his grandmother, perhaps the only I could understand the unique situation in which he was. Ecstatic
so much happiness, he learned that he had never reconciled briefly such a deep sleep, but soon decided that at that time it was more valuable to be awake than asleep, so I decided to use all his strength to get out of this nap as soon as possible. And there was that confirmed the sad reality.
awoke, and when he did, was again a man of twenty years.
