As the wind blew some leaves away, Mauricio watched this journey through the field. He was so absorbed in that immensity that he did not notice that his younger brother had decided to accompany him in silence. Juan Vicente, seeing him so focused on those leaves, said to himself with a slight snore.
—Brother, here you are, I was looking for you to apologize. I behaved like a brute at breakfast and you don't deserve it.
—Yes, because the only thing you said was the truth. What I do not allow you to do is to tell me what to do, I know you hate me, you have let it be known to all the employees of this land. I am not the "prodigal son" nor do I consider myself better for having gone to college and in that sense you have been very unfair to me. This morning you were accusing me of not having the courage to admit that I don't like Marisol, my commitment to my father to stay here or be in Altagracia, but you haven't had the courage to tell me all the bad things you say about me to my face either.
—Yes I know, believe me I know. It's just that it hasn't been easy for me either, seeing how my dad constantly compares me to you.
—But, that's not my fault Juan Vicente. Ever since I was a child I've felt that you want what I have. Now you're proclaiming around the countryside that you're in love with Marisol, which doesn't affect me at all. You and I don't have to compete, haven't you realized that I'm not interested?
—The only thing I want is not to be under your shadow. I've stayed here because I like it and you've left in your own right, on the contrary. Actually, I know that Marisol loves me too, and even if her parents want to marry her to you, that doesn't make her love you.
—I am not interested in her in the least, although you should make sure that she really loves you because when I have seen her on my arrival, she has been very effusive with me. I am not interested in this land either, although I have as much right to own it as you do, whether you like it or not. This belongs to me as much as it does to you, whether or not I work directly with what is done here. I'm not interested in being the foreman, or going around milking cows, but I'm grateful to have a brother who does that in my place. Anyway, I'll talk to my dad today.
—Do it, and even if you don't believe me I'm sorry, I love you. I couldn't hate you, not even if I wanted to, brother. For Marisol, don't worry, if it's not her then it will be someone else.
Juan Vicente walks away and Mauricio knows that the time has come to talk to his father, although he was counting the hours to go again to La Borrasca, where perhaps another night was waiting for him in Rosario's company. The thought of seeing him immediately put him in a good mood.
Rosario had spent the day thinking about the wardrobe she would wear that Saturday. For her that was the highlight of any of her presentations, but this time there was an incentive that made her pay more attention to her image. That night she would wear a giant hat and play with her small waist tied in suspenders.
She was ready to sing another one of her covers, but that night she would sing for the first time a song of her own. She was terrified, La Borrasca's audience preferred cumbias, but she was determined to sing a ballad she had written months before. That night she would bring Virginia, her guitar and play for everyone in an evening that promised to be great. Her mother was watching her with amusement and interrupted her from her thoughts.
—There's something wrong with you—Olivia protested as she watched her daughter prepare her costume.
—What are you saying, I always strive to look beautiful.
—No, something else is wrong. If you're going to sing with the guitar you should wear something more comfortable. Tell me the truth, are you making yourself pretty for a beau?
—Mom, there doesn't have to be a man to make me pretty, come on, stop talking garbage and pass me the hat—Rosario pretends to be exasperated and laughs quietly. Her mother has caught her, as she always does.
—Dad, I've been looking for you...
—You haven't been looking properly, son, I've been here in the stable all day. Is something wrong with you?
—Yes dad, but I'd like to talk to you when you're not busy. Right now you seem to be very busy...
—Don't you want to marry Marisol?
—But won't mom shut up just once?
—Calm down, it's all right if you don't want to marry that girl, Juan Vicente will be happy to take your place—Vicente says to his son, patting him on the back.
—Dad, Juan Vicente hates me. I think you should stop comparing us, it's not healthy. Besides, he feels that I want to steal what is rightfully his, and he asked me if you have not made it clear to him that I have as much right as he does to own this land.
—That's the least of it, I wanted to see you here son. I wanted both of you to help me take these lands forward, this is the inheritance I will leave to both of you. But, I cannot force you to stay in Altagracia. Rather, I would like you to make your own decisions, I expected nothing less from you.
—But how, you made me promise to come back after graduation.
—I know, but that, as well as the premeditated commitment with Marisol, have only kept us apart. And the truth is that it's absurd, I always expected more from you son, you are so much like me. I did the opposite to you and decided to move away from the family firm, which of course distanced my father a lot from me. But, coming to Altagracia and seeing you grow up has been a great satisfaction.
—You never told me that, I always thought I was the black sheep of the family?
—You're not, you're just a rebel. And that's good son, you're braver than your brother. He has had the same opportunity as you to leave and make his life, in return he has decided to stay here and not take risks. You are both different, I love you both, but you are braver, you are the one who is more like me, even if it sounds repetitive.
Mauricio, moved, melts into an embrace with his father. He had freed him from a great burden, perhaps a burden that had never existed. Courage has different edges, all are valid, it will depend on the perspective in which we look at it. Vicente and his son know it, freedom breathes to the latter over the man. No woman is forbidden, if you are brave.
—By the way, Mauricio, I promised your mother that I would try to convince you to stay and marry Marisol. So it's your turn to talk to her, I wish you luck—Vicente smiles mischievously, he had got rid of his wife.
Mientras el viento se llevaba algunas hojas, Mauricio miraba este recorrido por el campo. Estaba tan absorto en aquella inmensidad, que no se da cuenta de que su hermano menor ha decidido acompañarle en silencio. Juan Vicente al verle tan concentrado en aquellas hojas, decirse hacerse notar con un leve ronquido.
—Hermano, ¡aquí estabas!, te estaba buscando para disculparme. Me he comportado como un borde en el desayuno y no te lo mereces.
—¿Si?, porque lo único que has dicho son verdades. Lo que si no te permito es que me digas que hacer, sé que me odias, se lo has dejado saber a todos los empleados de estas tierras. No soy el "hijo pródigo" ni mucho menos me considero mejor por haber ido a la universidad y en ese sentido has sido muy injusto conmigo. Esta mañana me acusabas de no tener la valentía de admitir que no me gusta Marisol, mi compromiso con mi padre de quedarme aquí o estar en Altagracia, pero tú tampoco has tenido la valentía de decirme todo lo malo que dices de mí en mi cara.
—¡Si lo sé!, créeme que lo sé. Es solo que no ha sido fácil para mí tampoco ver cómo mi papá me compara constantemente contigo.
—Pero, eso no es mi culpa Juan Vicente. Desde niño he sentido que quieres lo que yo tengo. Ahora pregonas por el campo que estás enamorado de Marisol, cosa que no me afecta en lo absoluto. Tú y yo no tenemos que competir, ¿no te has dado cuenta de que no me interesa?
—Yo lo único que quiero es no estar bajo tu sombra. Yo me he quedado aquí porque me gusta y tú te has ido en tu justo derecho, por lo contrario. En realidad, sé que Marisol también me quiere y aunque sus padres quieran casarla contigo, eso no hace que te quiera.
—No me interesa ella en lo más mínimo, aunque deberías asegurarte de que en realidad te quiere porque cuando la he visto en mi llegada, ha estado muy efusiva conmigo. Tampoco me interesan estás tierras, aunque tengo el mismo derecho que tú a poseerlas, te guste o no. Esto me pertenece tanto como a ti, trabaje o no directamente con lo que aquí se hace. No me interesa ser el capataz, ni andar ordeñando vacas, pero agradezco tener a un hermano que haga eso en mi lugar. De todas maneras, hablaré con mi papá hoy mismo.
—Hazlo y aunque no me creas lo siento, yo te quiero. No podría odiarte, ni, aunque quisiera hermano. Por Marisol, no te preocupes si no es ella entonces será otra.
Juan Vicente se aleja y Mauricio sabe que ha llegado la hora de hablar con su padre, aunque estaba contando las horas para ir de nuevo a La Borrasca, donde quizás le esperaba otra noche en compañía de Rosario. Pensar en verle le ponía de buen humor de inmediato.
Rosario ha pasado el día pensando en el vestuario que llevaría ese sábado. Para ella ese era el momento más culminante de cualquiera de sus presentaciones, pero está vez existía un aliciente que la hacía esmerarse más por su imagen. Aquella noche llevaría un sombrero gigante y jugaría con su pequeña cintura amarrada en unos tirantes.
Estaba lista para cantar otro de sus covers, pero aquella noche cantaría por primera vez una canción de su autoría. Estaba aterrada, el público de La Borrasca prefería las cumbias, pero ella estaba decidida a cantar una balada que había escrito meses atrás. Esa noche llevaría a Virginia, su guitarra y tocaría para todos en una velada que prometía ser grandiosa. Su mamá la miraba muy entretenida y la interrumpe de sus pensamientos.
—A ti te pasa algo —protestó Olivia mientras veía a su hija preparando su vestuario.
—¿Qué dices?, siempre me esmero por lucir hermosa.
—No, pasa algo más. Si vas a cantar con la guitarra deberías usar algo más cómodo. Dime la verdad, ¿te estás poniendo bonita para un galán?
—¡Mama!, no tiene que haber un hombre para ponerme bonita, ¡anda!, deja de decir chorradas y pásame el sombrero —Rosario finge estar exasperada y se ríe en silencio. Su mamá le ha pillado, como siempre lo hace.
—Papá, te he estado buscando...
—No has buscado bien hijo, he estado aquí en el establo todo el día. ¿Te pasa algo?
—Si papá, pero quisiera hablarlo contigo cuando estés desocupado. Ahora mismo pareces estar muy liado…
—¿No te quieres casar con Marisol?
—Pero, ¿es que mamá no se calla una sola vez?
—¡Calma!, no pasa nada si no quieres casarte con esa muchacha, Juan Vicente estará encantado de sustituirte —Vicente le dice eso a su hijo dándome una palmadita en la espalda.
—Papá, Juan Vicente me odia. Creo que deberías parar de compararnos, eso no es saludable. Además, él siente que yo quiero robarle lo que por derecho le corresponde y me preguntó si tú no le has dejado claro que tengo tanto derecho como él a poseer estás tierras.
—Eso es lo de menos, yo quería verte aquí hijo. Yo quería que ambos me ayudarán a sacar estás tierras adelante, esta es la herencia que yo les dejaré a ambos. Pero, no puedo obligarte a quedarte en Altagracia. Más bien me gustaría que tomarás tus propias decisiones, no esperaba menos de ti.
—Pero, ¿cómo?, me hiciste prometer que volvería después de graduarme.
—Si lo sé, pero tanto eso, como el compromiso premeditado con Marisol, no han hecho más que alejarnos. Y la verdad es que es algo absurdo, siempre he esperado más de ti hijo, tú eres tan parecido a mí. Yo hice lo contrario a ti y decidí alejarme del bufete de la familia, cosa que por supuesto alejó muchísimo a mi padre de mí. Pero, venirme a Altagracia y verlos crecer a ustedes, ha sido una gran satisfacción.
—Nunca me habías contado eso, siempre creí que era la oveja negra de la familia...
—No lo eres, solo eres un rebelde. Y eso es bueno hijo, eres más valiente que tu hermano. Él ha tenido la misma oportunidad que tú de irse y hacer su vida, a cambio ha decidido quedarse aquí y no tomar riesgos. Ambos son distintos, a ambos los amo, pero tú eres más valiente, tú eres el que más se parece a mí, aunque suene repetitivo.
Mauricio conmovido, se funde en un abrazo con su padre. Lo había liberado de una gran carga, quizás una carga que nunca había existido. La valentía tiene diferentes aristas, todas son válidas, va a depender de la perspectiva en el que la miremos. Vicente y su hijo lo saben, la libertad respira a este último sobre el hombre. Ninguna mujer es prohibida, si eres valiente.
—Por cierto, Mauricio, le he prometido a tu madre que intentaría convencerte de quedarte y casarte con Marisol. Así que te toca a ti hablar con ella, te deseo suerte —Vicente sonríe con malicia, se había librado de su mujer.
Another posts that may interest you | Otras de mis publicaciones que quizás te interesen:
| Mujer Prohibida |  |
|---|---|
| Mujer Prohibida II |  |
| El asesino del malecón: El Final |  |