The Mistery of Belicena Villca
Wrapped in a growing torpor , making efforts to coordinate the ideas , I recognized in the tense face of my interlocutor the familiar features of my mother .
As stunned I stared at him looking for something to say , when I clearly heard the canine sound of a growl . It reached my ears coming from outside the house and it had the virtue of making the memories crowd in the mind . The last thing I saw and felt when I was exploring Uncle Kurt ' s farm came in like an overwhelming avalanche .
– W ... hat , what were they ? I stammered , trying to contain the trembling that shook my whole body .
A question mark was painted on Uncle Kurt ' s face . – What ? – he asked disconcerted . – The ... the beasts --I said making an effort because my tongue felt swollen and asleep . – Ah , the bullmastiffs , --Uncle Kurt realized-- . They are dogs ; dogs from Tibet . Very particular animals , real dogs . Perhaps the only species that deserves that name . They are extraordinary animals , capable of receiving a semi-human training . --I involuntarily opened my eyes horrified and Uncle Kurt , noticing it , apologized in distress :
– What happened to you is an accident . An incomprehensible accident of which only I am guilty . The bullmastiffs attacked you because I ordered it . Oh God , only I am responsible for the greatest crime ! I have spilled my own blood !...
Uncle Kurt started repeating the above inconsistencies as I went gently falling into unconsciousness . My eyes were closing , listening to whom I had come to visit with such enthusiasm , transformed into the character of a Greek tragedy , for my carelessness and improvidence !
Suddenly I also felt guilty ; my heart clenched ; I tried to say some apology but a saving gloom eclipsed my conscience , plunging me into a deep sleep .
I will try to abbreviate the details of my unfortunate meddling in the life of Uncle Kurt . It will be a concession in favor of other data that I wish to put to the reader ' s disposal , for the best interpretation of this strange story . If it occurred to someone to think that everything that had happened to me up to there was more than enough to cover a quota of mysterious facts , I will tell him that he is wrong by far . This adventure was missing important parts , I would say it was just beginning , and if notable " coincidences " had pursued me until then , what would come next was not behind them . Because Uncle Kurt had a story to tell . A story so strange and unusual that considered in itself was incredible ; but that I should take with enough respect , since " that " story was part of " my " own story .
But let ' s not get ahead of ourselves . The day I opened my eyes , and saw for the second time in my life Uncle Kurt , was the following to the night of my unfortunate foray into the farm . I had been unconscious for about fifteen hours to Uncle Kurt ' s despair , who feared he had caused me a serious brain injury .
The blow , struck with the butt of a Luger pistol , had been blunt and , according to Uncle Kurt , I had to thank the abnormal hardness of the skull or a miracle for my salvation .
Why this security ? because he had struck with great force ; according to his words ; the sufficient to kill the intruder . This violence was because Uncle Kurt was expecting an attack , an attack from one moment to another .
He had reasons to believe in it , as will be seen , and bad fortune --or another cause – wanted me to have the ill-fated idea of making the suspicious nocturnal visit .
At first , after making sure there were no more intruders , Uncle Kurt dragged me into the house and went through the task of going through the pockets looking for weapons and identification items . With the surprise that is to be expected , he found the Iron Cross --his decoration-- , the letter from Mom and the documents and cards that duly proved my identity .
According to Uncle Kurt , he would have killed himself right there if it were not for the fact that I was inexplicably still breathing . His first reaction was to seek help , but , aware of the irregularity of the situation , he decided to be extremely cautious in order to avoid police intervention . For the same reason , it would be inconvenient turning to an unknown doctor who could put him in trouble .
I must clarify that Uncle Kurt had not married , so he lived alone in the Sala , assisted by a marriage of old and faithful indians , those who inhabited a small adjoining house . Apart from those named there were never less than ten laborers – to attend the vines and the small factory of candy and syrup – but these occupied a barrack thirty meters away from the Sala and were not trustworthy .
Uncle Kurt desperately called the old butler , named José Tolaba , knocking on the window of his room . – Pepe , Pepe . – Yes Don Cerino ? – the oldman answered promptly . – Come soon Pepe . A misfortune has occurred --Kurt yelled . Although he only named the old man , five minutes later Pepe and his wife appeared , because by the tone of the call , they assumed that something serious was happening .
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