martes, agosto 02, 2005

William is Dead


Al llegar a casa, apenas abrir la puerta nos sorprendió un amargo y dulzón aroma a carne en putrefacción.
No tardamos mucho en encontrar la causa.
El cadáver de quien había sido nuestro leal mayordomo descansaba sentado en una silla al costado de la puerta principal.

Llamamos a la policía. Vinieron, investigaron, y no encontraron nada raro. Llamamos a nuestro Forense de confianza.
Apenas le bastaron unos minutos de examen para dictaminar que la muerte había sido por consunción.
-Este hombre no comió por un largo período. Murió de hambre.

Agradecimos al Dr..Oblamos los honorarios del caso. Llamamos al municipio a que retiraran el cadáver y lo velaran en ese local que tienen en la calle Gonzalo Ramírez.
William no tenía familia, y nosotros no nos ibamos a hacer cargo.
Terminó en un tubular el Cementerio del Norte. Al final algo tuvimos que pagar.

Pero, por qué William habría muerto de hambre?. La alacena estaba llena de alimentos. Había dinero en la casa. Nada justificaba su muerte.
- Fue su soberbia, dijo Al.
-Cómo?
- Claro. El siempre mantuvo el orden y la organización de la casa con una servidumbre a cargo que era la que cocinaba, limpiaba, hacía las compras, se encargaba del Jardín.
No creo recordar que jamás haya llegado hasta el portón externo
Su mundo era esta casa. Sus paredes su límite.
Su orgullo le impidió realizar tareas que consideraba inferiores: Cocinar, llamar a un delivery, lo que fuera.
No murió de hambre. Murió de orgullo. Ni siquiera se acostó. Su obsesión por la urbanidad le llevó a esperarnos sentado en esa silla quién sabe por cuanto tiempo.
-Que viejo pelotudo, respondí con la boca llena con un refuerzo de jamón crudo italiano que me acababa de hacer. Haceme el favor Al, No te abrís un vino?
- Si, acá hay uno bueno. Yo voy a tomar también.
Mañana voy a ir a las oficinas de UCOT para ver si averiguo algo más sobre Elber
-Te acompaño

Guillermo está muerto

When arriving at house, as soon as to open the door it surprised bitter and dulzón to us aroma meat in rotting.
We did not take much in finding the cause.
The corpse of that had been our loyal butler rested seated in a chair to the flank of the fore door. We called to the police. They came, they investigated, and they did not find anything rare.
We called to our Forense of confidence.
Hardly minutes of examination were enough to him to consider that the death had been by consumption.
- This man did not eat by a long period. He died of hunger.
We thanked for to the Dr..Oblamos the honoraria of the case.
We called to the municipality to that they retired the corpse and they guarded it in that premises that has in the street Gonzalo Ramirez.
William did not have family, and we ibamos us not to make position.
It finished in tubular a Cemetery of the North. In the end something we had to pay.

But, why William would have died of hunger. The cupboard was full of foods. There was money in the house. Nothing just its death.
- its pride Went, said To.
- How?
- Clear. Always it maintained the order and the oranización of the house with a servitude to position that was the one that cooked, cleaned, made the purchases, was in charge of the Garden.
I do not create to remember that never it has arrived until the inner door of the garden.
Its world was this house. Its walls its limit. Its pride prevented him to make tasks that considered inferior: To cook, to call to delivery, which is.
It did not die of hunger. It died of pride. Nor if it wants it laid down. Its obsession by the politeness took to him to wait for to us seated in that chair who knows inasmuch as time.
- That old pelotudo, I responded with the full mouth with Italian reinforcement of jamón crude that finished to me doing.
Haceme the favor To, you do not open a wine to you?
- If, there is one good one here. I am going to also take. Tomorrow I am going to go to the UCOT offices to see if I find out something more on Elber
- I accompany to You

2 comentarios:

sigmur dijo...

Cantenlé el tema de los Smiths, cantenlé:
William, it was really nothing.

Tomás Eastman dijo...

Si Sigmur, tiene razón
Y si, no somos nada.