Reflections that I make myself looking at the tranquility of my garden, but that, despite this, I cannot erase from my mind the odd incident of my past.
I remember when we returned to the town, after spending those fateful days, without food and under the rays of that scorching sun, the welcome was inexplicable, people seemed to be hiding from us, but we had done nothing to them. What would happen to them? We were trying to find it out when…
— Leave! It’s for our own sake — said the little boy, approaching suddenly.
We didn’t really think much about it and although Peter did not agree at first, I think that, thinking about my still convalescing ankle, he decided without further ado to rent that beat-up car that took us far away.
I think the decision was correct, especially when we were already in the distance and saw how that great storm fell in the town, which we both said:
— Luckily, we got rid of it!
It looked like he had been waiting for us to leave so that he starts.
— Let’s hurry up! Before he starts — said Peter.
When we were putting the backpacks in the back seat, I asked him, puzzled, what he said, what he meant.
— Look through the rearview mirror! — he answered me —. I’ve seen those dark clouds approaching — and he pointed at them with his hand.
I, who of course was already determined to leave, told him:
— Well, cheer up, start, we don’t do anything here.
And with speed, well the truth is that it was not much, because the car we had obtained could not last, but it was enough to find us far away when that storm began.
Fortunately, it did not go on, because our car was one of the convertibles, but it did not have a hood. It would have it in its good times but judging by the remains of it, it must have been removed for a long time. The few pieces that were still visible there were all rusted.
— If water starts to fall, we certainly have no choice but to take a shower — said Peter —. And so we got rid of the days that we have been without giving it to us.
Of course, that one thing is a controlled shower with a control in which you give more or less power to the jet that falls on you, and another very different one is what it gives you that downpour that falls from the cloud, in a few moments it seems that the door has been left open suddenly and everything that was there escapes.
Suddenly I noticed how I was getting wet, and it was as if I came back from a dream, I had just seen how the storm ended in that town as we drove away, as fast as we could, and now suddenly, water.
I looked everywhere, and laughed out loud. I couldn’t believe it, the sprinkler had started. Yes, I had it regulated so that it would work for an hour, so even if I was not here, I knew that the whole garden would remain well-kept, and would not dry out due to lack of water, but what I had not realized in these moments is that it was his time, and on time he began to fulfill his obligation, drop water to refresh everything.
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Revising some papers that I had stored in a drawer, I have found some photos of my graduation, and looking at them, those years of student have come to my memory, without compromises.
Seeing there in that little corner where Don Carlos had put himself, when we invited him, those memories immediately came to mind, that Master Class which he gave us on the last day of the course, when he invited us to present the work done to the various groups. How many debates were formed!
As we were told at that time by the Rector, who was, as he must be the most serious of the entire University, never in any course has a theme created such controversy.
All the teachers had signed up for that session, which due to the attendance had to be held in the Auditorium. Despite that situation, many of those who wanted to listen to it, they had no choice but to do it from the hallways.
The course was coming to an end and that work could no longer be delayed. We had participated with great enthusiasm. Working on that had made us take everything with more desire, and some teachers had noticed this, who had told us that it seemed that doing the work of the History teacher had cleared our heads. We had opted for all the classmates to make study teams for the other subjects and the system worked well. The level of the class went up, because when there was one student who dealt with a topic that choked him, as it is usually said, he always had a partner helping him through it.
I think that was the course in which the grades obtained by some students were higher in the entire history of the University, as the Rector told us. We had all deserved to be on the Honor Roll, that had perplexed more than one, who did not trust that system very much, and said that what we did was a waste of time, in an absurd job.
But honoring the truth, it is that perhaps it was that theme that motivated us, and the friendship we made with each other, those who formed those working groups that we have maintained forever, and I, honestly believe, that had it not been for Don Carlos, none of this would have happened to us “Thank you, teacher.”
How important are some people in our lives, who possibly without intending to help us move forward and with their influence determine our future.
I remember a conversation with a very young priest that one day I found in the corridors of the university. He approached me to ask me about the office of one of the teachers, but I do not know what arose between us, that life surely had prepared us for that meeting.
I told him where the place was because he had asked me and then I went to my class, which was about to start.
Several times I remembered the person of the meeting. I had seen in his gaze a peace that had caught my attention, but well, I let it pass, without giving it much importance.
The class ended as usual, on time, but when I was walking down the hall distracted, someone coming out of an office bumped into me. Well, I didn’t realize that door was opening and we both hit each other.
Looking at him to apologize for my mistake, I saw that he was the same person who had asked me that question before class.
— Excuse me, sorry — I heard, at the same time that I also told him, and we both laughed at the coincidence.
Little by little we were talking as if it were two old friends. Walking around the Campus, he told me that he was the nephew of a teacher, the same one he had asked me about. He did not teach me any subject, but I had heard things from him, and having the opportunity to speak to someone who must have known him very well, I could not resist the temptation, and I think that even without wanting to, I made him some questions. Well, I don’t know how it was, but I remember that before I knew it, I was asking that young priest something about his uncle. He was very serious and said to me quietly:
— That belongs to the private life of a person. If it interests you so much, why don’t you ask him personally? Since I think that only the one who is interested is the one who should answer you on that matter.
I was surprised at his answer, and I thought that diplomatically he had told me not to go where they don’t call me, but since I am a nosy person I did not stop, and I continued saying:
— From what you just told me, yes, because otherwise I would have flatly denied it.
— Friend, whoever follows it gets it, but if you really want to, do your best, which is to go to the source — he said, smiling.
I stood still. What was he talking about? That conversation that we had that distant day resulted in a great friendship, a collaboration in many matters that do not come to mind here, but without