scared weâd never see you again. Ignacio said children are El Mozambiqueâs favourite food,â said Geru, giving him a kiss. âSo, are you going to tell us what happened or not?â
Benicio told them everything that had happened. Then all three glared at Ignacio el Jabao, walking hand in hand with his father, laughing as he pointed at them. Lastly, they glanced back at El Mozambique who was standing where they had left him, staring at them with his pale eyes, cackling malevolently and licking his lips.
The Village Schoolteacher
When they reached home, Betina was sitting waiting angrily in the doorway. She asked Benicio what had happened and Grandfather explained that it had all been Ignacio el Jabao’s fault for saying he was a fucking pussy if he didn’t throw a stone at El Mozambique. Betina’s eyes grew wide with horror. José started to laugh. ‘Don’t laugh, José, this is not funny. Benicio, what kind of language is that? Don’t ever let me hear you say a word like that again or I’ll cut your tongue out. The only one in this house allowed to swear is me. Even your father would not do such a thing, do you understand? And all three of you are forbidden from hanging around with Ignacio. As punishment, you can all go to your rooms.’
Geru slowly headed for her room but Melecio, considering the punishment was unfair, bowed his head, saying that he was to blame for everything. Benicio planted himself in front of Betina and told her not to listen to Melecio, that what had actually happened was that Ignacio had said he was nothing like his father, some man called Oscar.
‘Who is Oscar, Mami?’
Betina and José looked at each other conspiratorially and Betina told Benicio that he shouldn’t listen to that little monster Ignacio and once again told all of them to go to bed.
The children did as they were told, but it did not end there. Every time Ignacio encountered Benicio, under the flame tree, in Chinaman Li’s store, or at the Festival of Birth, he repeated the same taunt: ‘Your papá’s name was Oscar.’ This went on, until one day, unable to bear the insults any longer, Benicio threw a stone that cracked Ignacio’s skull and the poor boy ran home howling, his head streaming blood. His parents immediately went to see Betina and José to find out what had happened.
‘Ignacio won’t leave me alone,’ said Benicio, sobbing. ‘He’s telling everyone that you’re not my parents and it’s driving me mad.’
The four adults decided that the moment had come for the boy to learn the truth. The Jabaos went back to their house and Betina made linden tea for the children and coffee for the adults. Then she sat all the children around the table and told them what had happened to Benicio’s true parents.
‘So Ignacio was telling the truth, you’re not my real parents.’
‘Of course we are,’ said José, putting a hand on Benicio’s shoulder. ‘Parents are not those who give birth to you, they are the people who raise you.’ The boy bowed his head and pressed the amulet to his chest. It was hard for him to accept that his mother had died at the very moment he was born, and that his real father had chosen to take his own life, leaving him in the care of his friends Betina and José. He wondered how an orphan was supposed to feel. He wondered this and as he did so he felt a sharp pain in his head, a pain that made it impossible for him to clearly see the origin of things. He got up from his chair and ran to the flame tree.
‘Let him go, Betina. It’s normal for him to feel this way. He needs time to think.’
Betina closed the door. José put an arm around her shoulders and they went to their room.
Melecio and Gertrudis went looking for their brother beneath the flame tree.
‘I knew it,’ said Melecio. ‘You look nothing like me, and besides your bellybutton sticks out. But it doesn’t matter,’ he added. ‘No one can ever say that we’re not brothers.’
The three
Benicio told them everything that had happened. Then all three glared at Ignacio el Jabao, walking hand in hand with his father, laughing as he pointed at them. Lastly, they glanced back at El Mozambique who was standing where they had left him, staring at them with his pale eyes, cackling malevolently and licking his lips.
The Village Schoolteacher
When they reached home, Betina was sitting waiting angrily in the doorway. She asked Benicio what had happened and Grandfather explained that it had all been Ignacio el Jabao’s fault for saying he was a fucking pussy if he didn’t throw a stone at El Mozambique. Betina’s eyes grew wide with horror. José started to laugh. ‘Don’t laugh, José, this is not funny. Benicio, what kind of language is that? Don’t ever let me hear you say a word like that again or I’ll cut your tongue out. The only one in this house allowed to swear is me. Even your father would not do such a thing, do you understand? And all three of you are forbidden from hanging around with Ignacio. As punishment, you can all go to your rooms.’
Geru slowly headed for her room but Melecio, considering the punishment was unfair, bowed his head, saying that he was to blame for everything. Benicio planted himself in front of Betina and told her not to listen to Melecio, that what had actually happened was that Ignacio had said he was nothing like his father, some man called Oscar.
‘Who is Oscar, Mami?’
Betina and José looked at each other conspiratorially and Betina told Benicio that he shouldn’t listen to that little monster Ignacio and once again told all of them to go to bed.
The children did as they were told, but it did not end there. Every time Ignacio encountered Benicio, under the flame tree, in Chinaman Li’s store, or at the Festival of Birth, he repeated the same taunt: ‘Your papá’s name was Oscar.’ This went on, until one day, unable to bear the insults any longer, Benicio threw a stone that cracked Ignacio’s skull and the poor boy ran home howling, his head streaming blood. His parents immediately went to see Betina and José to find out what had happened.
‘Ignacio won’t leave me alone,’ said Benicio, sobbing. ‘He’s telling everyone that you’re not my parents and it’s driving me mad.’
The four adults decided that the moment had come for the boy to learn the truth. The Jabaos went back to their house and Betina made linden tea for the children and coffee for the adults. Then she sat all the children around the table and told them what had happened to Benicio’s true parents.
‘So Ignacio was telling the truth, you’re not my real parents.’
‘Of course we are,’ said José, putting a hand on Benicio’s shoulder. ‘Parents are not those who give birth to you, they are the people who raise you.’ The boy bowed his head and pressed the amulet to his chest. It was hard for him to accept that his mother had died at the very moment he was born, and that his real father had chosen to take his own life, leaving him in the care of his friends Betina and José. He wondered how an orphan was supposed to feel. He wondered this and as he did so he felt a sharp pain in his head, a pain that made it impossible for him to clearly see the origin of things. He got up from his chair and ran to the flame tree.
‘Let him go, Betina. It’s normal for him to feel this way. He needs time to think.’
Betina closed the door. José put an arm around her shoulders and they went to their room.
Melecio and Gertrudis went looking for their brother beneath the flame tree.
‘I knew it,’ said Melecio. ‘You look nothing like me, and besides your bellybutton sticks out. But it doesn’t matter,’ he added. ‘No one can ever say that we’re not brothers.’
The three
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