The little girl and the mango tree.
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Chapter IX: The girl and the mango tree
Historical Center, Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico
“Well, it’s certainly a strange situation, no doubt about it. That salesman was not at all impressed when she told him about the fragrance. Not even in the least bit. Seems it was quite the contrary. He had the cheek to answer that it was just simply the little girl in the mango tree as if that explained everything, without the need to say more! That salesman was a swindler, a cheat! He didn’t want to say more for fear of losing the sale of the house. Of course, you see my Dear; it can be so difficult to sell a house with ghosts and all…”
“What little girl in the mango tree?” I asked without understanding what Grandmother was talking about; she had lost me, and I really had no clue to what she was talking about.
“Grandmother, I think we have a visitor,” I exclaimed, not able to withhold the formidable impression of an overpowering presence right next to me, invisible, yet undoubtedly there. But Grandmother, helplessly engrossed in her tale, didn’t hear me. She just kept on quietly talking .
“Well yes, dear. Doña Leonor’s didn’t understand what he was talking about either so demanded an explanation from him, insisting that she would not stand for nonsense. I didn’t get to know her very well, but she always impressed me as the kind of a woman, you really don’t want to mess around with. They said when she was angry, she used a very harsh language. She was a powerful and hard-headed woman and would cut people down to size, with one hand tied behind her back, you know? Even your poor Grandfather Jairo. On more than one occasion, he told me how he would make tracks and disappear whenever he saw her in one of her moods!
In the land of volcanoes’ Chapters Purchase the book