The new story of Marcelo Birmajer: The cricket

Eliezer was born in the countryside, but his parents emigrated with him to the city when he was four. It was his first return at 14. Despite the past 10 years, and the huge difference between the 4-year-old and today’s teenager, he seemed to remember the scent of grass, the evening breeze, the beating of ducks against the horizon, the roar of some mysterious being in the lagoon. That meeting made him happy and moved.

Their cousins, the Binitzes, welcomed them as kings, and Eliezer in particular. Only 15 days remained, but they seemed like lifelong friends. In fact, up until their 4 years they had been raised together. One of the cousins ​​was two years older than him, the other two years younger. The uncles were peasants. And great readers, just like Eliezer’s parents.

One of those evenings they organized a night game with the boys and girls of the village. It was called Il Grillo. One was hiding and the others were looking for him. The fugitive carried a whistle and had to blow it every so often to give his researchers an idea of ​​where he might be.

After an hour and a half without finding him, or if the cricket arrived at a previously agreed upon location, he won. Although he was not a Baquean, they chose Eliezer de Grillo as a deference to the host. The field was endless but it was fenced and cared for. One hundred families lived there, each with their own farm and animals, but sharing the harvest. They sold together. There was no greater danger.

They focused on the pole as the sun set. Eliezer remembered those exuberant evenings of his childhood: the mixture of the fleeting heat and the coolness of the air; the aroma and a sound, at the same time, which had always seemed to him the effect of the sun touching the sea, like an ember that crossed the water without going out or burning. There would be about 16 boys, and among them was Lena, 15.

Eliezer was no longer a boy, but Lena had the features of a woman. The vision of her pierced her heart. She felt the sun go down on her soul and the tides stir her senses. She lena would have looked for him like the others. But … did he want to hide from her? The game was becoming particularly difficult. The sun disappeared into the thistle.

Eliezer ran into the grove. On the way he met a horse. The original sound was a whistle, but they had failed and replaced it with an empty two-foot candy box that could be played like a harmonica. The whistle made its way, differentiated from the wild screams and howls, in the dark night of the camp.

Eliezer climbed a tree and, hidden in the foliage, gave the first clue. The boys were screaming. The cricket didn’t hear Lena’s voice. They headed the other way. She had chased them away. Suddenly she was alone, in a solitude never felt before, but without fear. He had separated himself from the human race, his uncles, his parents and his persecutors.

He knew that Lena didn’t care if she found him or not, that he was old enough to play cricket, that she barely joined in because she had nothing to do tonight. But soon someone would invite her to dance, have a coffee, gallop, get married. Eliezer wanted to be that man. But … how, hidden in a tree? He made the box ring so that only she could hear it.

He pushed his breath with a unique energy, not in strength but in singularity. Like the Pied Piper of Hamelin or a folk musician. This melody is for you, Lena: no one else will hear it. She will go through the night to your ears, to your body, and you will come with me. It’ll be you and me at night this time. How will I become a man if not?

Get away from the rest and meet me at the edge of the pond, near the mill. There, as long as you are mine, the horse will carry the treats box elsewhere, making it jingle. And when they find me, I’ll already be a man, and you a woman, but on your side, without anyone knowing, Lena. She left another trail. The gang of boys approached, whispering and laughing: but they went on.

If he kept hiding there, it was possible that the hour and a half was over. But I didn’t want it to be that easy. The cricket had to move, take risks, play. The horse reappeared at the foot of the tree, as if it belonged to him, or he was his friend. I preferred the second instance. He slipped in eerie silence, along the gnarled trunk of the tree and the broken branches, to the animal’s back.

He received it with a muffled neigh. That horse had seen him being born. She gently stroked the horse’s hips and Wonder, as she called him, chose a target for him. They stood by the fence, behind a dozen trees, bushes, and the gentle flow of a small stream. A strong electric light startled him from the sky, well beyond the fence.

At first he thought it was lightning, not a storm, but gradually he distinguished it as a circle. A comet, a shooting star? Impossible: it was getting too close. He blew on the box, but it didn’t ring. Strictly speaking, it was several twinkling lights. When the ship landed, they went out. The boys had split into two groups, equidistant from Eliezer’s hiding place: they couldn’t see him, but if he screamed they would hear him.

A hatch opened and a kind of armadillo emerged, the size of a man, with a strange, dim twilight around the shell. The armadillo lifted up on itself, as if it were standing on two legs and its strange head sniffing around, clearly Eliezer’s presence. The being had discovered it: Eliezer knew it with indisputable certainty.

His reason prompted him to shout, to call everyone to witness this incalculable event together. Nobody would have believed him if he hadn’t summoned them right now. But, somewhere in his early days as a man, he only wanted Lena to come close, no one else. Only she could find out. If not, he preferred to win the game and shut up. But it wasn’t a decision … it was a feeling, an impulse, a desire.

Unaware of their internal discussion, one of the groups headed for Eliezer. They approached with determination. Eliezer slapped Wonder on the hips and the horse headed the other way. The ruse worked: the most concentrated group followed the sound trail of the horse. Eliezer escaped them. He walked at a very fast pace and got to the place. He sang “cricket” three times. He had won the game.

The next day they had breakfast together, many of the boys, fresh milk, freshly baked bread, creamy butter. Everything was delightful. It was like ten. Lena hadn’t stayed.

In the afternoon, Eliezer and his parents were sulkily taken to the train station. In the wagon, with the wheels spinning, his father asked him why he was so brooding: Eliezer answered something about the high school.

He saw Lena again thirty years later. She was a beautiful woman: only she could be as beautiful as fifteen-year-old Lena. He told her about that night and her armadillo. Did you remember that game?

-I saw you and the armadillo -confessed Lena- I didn’t say anything either.

-Have you had a good life?

“I can’t complain,” Eliezer mused, on the verge of announcing the departure of his flight.

“The armadillo was playing hide and seek too,” Lena said, walking away, “and you didn’t turn it in.” you are blessed

Eliezer made a dubious expression, shrugged, and walked towards the gate.

POS