The Bishop and the mule. Maribel Cerezuela
On Sundays and feast enjoyed making "rice pudding" with lots of cinnamon. I put too much, he said Carmela, her neighbor always smelling what he did from the courtyard of the community, parched rice, he insisted, and does not taste the same. Do not listen to her.
That Sunday, I remember because, to be April, it was too hot. If you opened the windows the barking of the dogs would not let him rest. What the hell will happen today? He went into the kitchen, took all the preparations, arranged the order of the recipe, which, although it knew by heart, would not fail and returned to the terrace. Shhhhhhhhhhhhh, shouted: Shut up! Viannko, the German shepherd, jumped well, poking his head on the roof seemed they wanted to pull at any moment on the street. What a day that lead the poor! This neighbor is a disaster. Did not you hear? He went out into the hall landing, knocked at the door again and again. Nothing. There was no sound. He rang the bell with more emphasis. Nothing.
He entered the house, grabbed a bowl of water, one with remains of dinner and went upstairs. I upload this to cool off. The kid will be asleep in a friend's house. Carefully he climbed the marble steps that once was very white. He reached the door, opened the lock that prevents the passage, except the neighbors and came screaming ... Quiet! Calma! Viannko, sit down. Place order here. I put the water, left them food, and sat on the stride entry to the terrace.
The dogs calmed down a bit. They ate and drank. Coming and going of the food at his feet. They wanted to play or so she thought. Viannko, the largest, put his legs over the railing of the balcony. He looked nervously around. Sit! Ven. Viannko, come. That's it. Tranquilo. If you're quiet Mizala will be too. Come young, come. What shame do you? Too much heat. Where your love walk? She sat a while longer. Face the sun, where her neighbors thought when he heard screaming, crying ... Viannko stood barking and whining.
Carmela is stuck watching on the terrace in front that had the radio on full blast. He kept crying. What a shame! Ouch! Mother of God. Too bad for baby! What was it? Who could do such an atrocity? Mother! What a shame! Carmela. I screamed. What's wrong with women? Listen. Listen. The news has said that "It has been found a boy with legs tied to a tree, upside down, and chest stuck a piece of chess." Mizala as if he knew who he was talking about the radio began to whimper. Viannko, more nervous, he kept jumping and barking.
Without knowing it, the dogs were given a note to the radio broadcast. A little later, Felipe Antonio Rubio in the news, clarified that the young boy found his name was Miguel Alvarez, a professional chess player, an excellent thriller writer, lover of theater and the classics. He announced the next day, one would interview with the treasurer of the Chess Federation, Angel Simón, a colleague and friend Miguel Alvarez, who would expose the project had decided Chess Federation, on the fly and improvise, to make a Honours year, with investment of a few million to open the house of John Lennon, that in addition to music, you leave a room, rent-free regime for chess tournaments, both provincial and international level, from this spring to the Hon. City Hall if you could maintain and sponsor.
Two days later, after the funeral and made for the autopsy, the headlines were still echoing the news with all details, photos of a slender body, handsome even in death, naked, wearing nothing but the Bishop embedded in his chest. It was all speculation.
Nobody knew what could have triggered such an event. The next day, as previously announced, at the entrance to the radio, there was Angel Simon, too pale despite her always pale skin, eyes and abstracted in a note that does not stop ringing. I asked what was wrong. But there seemed to hear me. He entered the radio. As the friends were out listening to the interview where a scathing presenter, as if weighing what Angel told him, he turned the issue of honorary trophy for the death of Miguel to probe much more about life and friendship they had shared.
At one point in the interview, Angel yelled, "I warned, would not consent to make me Najdorf Alternative" - "Surely the most popular form of playing the Sicilian Defense. Elastic keeps the status of their pieces without defining the status of their central pawns, which will be placed according to the boxes that occupy the white shapes "-.
Sound driver interviewer and looked at each other face wanting to know what the interviewee had stammered without falling into account the severity of the sentence and was closed in band. - Angel, knew the place where it was found his friend? - Sure, he explained, is very close to the viewpoint of Azucena, a little further up is my new home, how would not know if he came with me when I bought it? Precisely because he insisted the atmosphere was quiet, typical of our game, kind people, let us be in the eastern part of the lookout, no time, no noise, all afternoon playing our game day.
And have any explanation of how his friend could get there, knowing that this day would not be anyone at home because as you yourself said, made it clear that he would be traveling all week? - No. I can not say why he was there.
Outside, all friends of the chess club Ajaj, were elbowing and wondering if they would let the friend Angel came out with it without punishment for believing what they were discovered and thought it was a cruel murder of a teacher Chess. She was silent. I looked at the floor. A soil that by chance was black and white tiles. He felt very angry, then helpless, and then, like inertia, made a decision. This came out the front door Angel de la Radio, greeted friends, and raised his arms with a strong feeling. He came from behind and side, gave a hint of warning. - We know it was you, I will demonstrate. All Federation fully watched and rebuked him with questions without sense or screaming at him to know he was the one who took our friend to that place, dead or alive ...
The thing was there. Angel went to her house and all the other regulars were dispersing. Not an hour had passed that ended the interview and a group of friends had gathered over the "Relampaguito" up to something not quite understand what it was.
Two days later knocked on his door. Opened and a handsome cop who said, "You're under arrest for the death of the treasurer of the Chess Federation, Mr. D. Simon Angel "- What do you stopped? I have not left my house in three days! - Come on! 'I will tell you all that said the judge. Come on!