A silent presence
…..
Chapter IX: The girl and the mango tree
San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico
Grandmother quietly interpreted my laughter and immediately answered:
That´s the way it was in those times, my darling young one. I had to treat your great-grandmother with the utmost of respect as if she were my own mother. Kids, (and she treated me as if I were one) could be seen, but they should never be heard. Those were other times, now long by-gone, and also different ways of thinking, hard to understand for those who didn’t grow up in them. I’m more than happy to observe how everything has changed in what we now call modern times. I enjoy how we treat each other nowadays; we can approach each other at ease and without all the formality and protocols. Nobody feels ashamed to display affection anymore,” she concluded affectionately, gently caressing my cheek.
But you know, I was wrong. Doña Leonor had become very solemn because she too had perceived the tart aroma of flowers hanging so thickly in the air (I do believe that she got scared…that same woman who always carried herself with such an absolute self-assurance). And was she not to detect it, if it had invaded all the patio and was impossible not to notice.
That was when she began to tell me the story of how it had happened to her before, precisely in the same manner and right in that very spot! It seems that in precisely the same way and to different people, this had happened on more than one occasion! All those involved in this peculiar situation had smelled the same aroma that appeared so suddenly each time.
Once more, the air began to feel suffocating as well as, oppressing. Perhaps it was only my imagination, but I could not rid myself of this foreboding sentiment of the presence of some other person, quietly listening in to our conversation.
In the land of volcanoes’ Chapters Purchase the book