The Relic

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by Francisco Angulo


  Illiterate! Push me over again and I’llbreak your face!

  The incident troubled him and his complexion became even redder - in fact, more than reddish, his skin tone had now turned togreyish -, and a drop of sweat slithered from his temple down his cheek. Then, he noticed a roadhouse not too far and decided to forget what happened over a gratifying glass of anise. It was late and it was getting dark, the perfect time to stop for a drink. There was only one last item to deliver - a well packaged box about one by one metre, addressed to a monastery. So, León decided to stop at the bar and ask for directions to the monastery. He took the detour that led to the door of the establishment and parked almost in front of it as if he planned to drive the old truck into the inn.

  Theconcrete exterior of the building made it looked more like a war bunker than a tavern, but this wasn’t important at all. The only thing that really mattered was that they served anise,Sanblás in particular, the type of quality anise León so adored. He climbed two steps and entered by pushing the metal gate, which slammed violently when León released it, only to become stuck half wayas it rubbed againstthe uneven tiles of the floor. He glanced to the right and saw the counter. To the left a few empty tables and chairs. By the bar there were two persons and behind them the waiter, a man with a bushy beard but barely any hair on his head. León stood at the other end of the bar and ordered a glass of Sanblás. The waiter served it immediately and León’s eyes flashed momentarily with happiness. Behind the counter there was a rectangular clock with digits written on cards that replacedeach other as time went past.Underthe time marker there was another which, indicated the day and the year – it showedexactly 19:28 of June 04, 1978.After staring at it briefly, León continued to drink from his glass. He sipped the liquor in short glugs and savoured it for a few moments. After swallowing, he let air enter his mouth while pasting his tongue against the palate.

  “Recent studies have discovered that all living creatures descended from a very basic multicellular organism - the sea sponge. When I read this in the papers,it immediately seemed very obvious. So many years of scientific study to realise that humans evolved from a sponge. Look at León, one would knowit straightwayby the way he absorbed anise like a sponge.”

  He was finishing the second glasswhen he asked two of the bar’s patrons for the monastery. He had the ability totalk to stonesif necessary, and had no trouble sharing his life with anyone. He started his conversations by praising the city or town where he found himself over and over again, but as he earned the trust of the interlocutors and the glasses of Sanblásstarted to taste more and more like water, criticisms began to pour, first comparing the town to others - alwaysinferring that it was a lot worse - only to end up reproving the character of the residents, going from criticisms to insults, and would end up telling the waiter something along the lines of:

  Look at his tiny head, it looks just like a baby’s ass!

  Understandably, he was often thrownout of bars, as indeed it did happen on this occasion. It was not at all uncommon for him to go back home after having had a few drinks. In fact, he actually thought that the only bad thing that could happen driving in that state was to havethe police stop you for a breathalyser test. León had three young children aged four, five and seven. Most days when he arrived home they were watching TV. All he really wanted when he opened that door was to resume the discussion he had left unfinished at the bar sohe would start by praising his wife and children the same way he had earlier praised the bar’s patron, only to end up chastising and insulting them. The arguments ended up in loud yells and abusesthat resonated throughout the neighbourhood. They lived in a low rise residential area withsemi-detached houses built of brick. Each house had a small porch that onereached after climbing five steps. The small windows on all the houses were round, like the windows on a boat. León used to say that the architect who built them was a naval architect affected by a joint disease that prevented him from living near the sea. So, instead of building boats he was forced to build houses. In front of each house there was a small patch of land where most people planted flowers to make their homes look cosier, although in the case of León there was only aparched piece of land with a fewdriedshrubsthat betrayedthe owner’s failed attemptsat gardening and little knowledge of horticulture. In this life, some are born to plant flowers and others to plant fire. León certainly did not plant flowers.

  Three months went by and life continued as usual –his truck, his drinks and his daily arguments. One day, when he got home, he parked his truck right in front of his property, a rather fortunate coincidence, as this space was almost always full. As he was getting off the truck the image of the box that he had to deliver more than three months ago suddenly came to his mind. He opened the back door of the truck hoping the box would not be there, but when the daylight entered the truck, he saw itwaiting for himinside. This was a real problem. He had always insisted on following the transportation code scrupulously. The codeprohibited, among other things, to pry into the goods and, of course, to keep part or all the items to be delivered. What could he do? He initially thought about returning it but then everyone would realise the mistake he had made - it could gethim into trouble and could even get him to lose his job. On the other hand, if, after all this time no one had claimed the goods, perhaps they’d never claim them. So, if there’s no claim, there’s no problem. He thought the best plan of action, at least for the time being, would be to unload the box and keep it safe at home. Of course, under no circumstances would he open the box and as soon as possible he would send it anonymously to the recipient with another carrier. He got in the truck, not without a lot of effort, as his workday was over and, as always, he had already enjoyed a few glasses of Sanblás. Once he managed to step inside the truck, he walked towards the box with short, jangling steps, like a doll running out of batteries. Then, he tried to move it.

  Hell, it’s heavier than lead! – he cried as he exhaled forcefully, the red colour of his face turning to purple from the efforts made to push the box. But nothing, not even an inch, the box will not move an inch.

  You bet you are going to move - he told the box while regaining forces and preparing to give it anotherpush.

  Applying all his strength and the weight of his body on a corner of the box hemanaged to move it a few centimetres. Then he pushed from the other corner. So pushing corner after corner alternately, he brought the box to the door of the truck. He kept pushing without realising that the box was already protruding from the truck.

  Darn thing! Come one! One more push and you are out!

  And indeed, before he could finish the sentence they were both out of the truck. The box rolled out and León fell flat on the ground after stumbling on it. The box shattered, its contents completely revealed - it was a figure in the shape of a virgin, at least that's what he thought, but due to the violence of the blow received, the head of the saint landed a few metres away on the floor.

  Well, well, let’s not panic, there’s a solution for everything.

  From the truck’s cab, he pulled out a roll of duct tape with the logo of the transport company printed on it which, was used to seal poorly packed boxes. He used it to stick the head of the sculpture to its body. The result was sloppyat best.

  Perfect! See how pretty I’vemade you? Necklace and all.

  As best as he could, dragging it at times and rolling itat others, he finally entered it home.

  León’s Wondrous Tales

  SOMETIMES, after a few glasses of Sanblás, León liked to relate some of the peculiar events he had experienced as a transporter. The truth is that no one believed his stories and you could never really tell which ones were real and which were fiction. One of his favourite tales was the story of his small truck driving through Europe before arriving in Russia first and then Mongolia, where he met some of the direct descendants of the country’s emperors - very welcoming people, always keen to invite him into their homes and offer him some of their best dishes. Every time he told
the story, he added new elements although it’s hard to tell whether he thought of them on the fly or if these just came back to his memory as he was recalling his trip. León claimed to have friends everywhere in the world, alliances he forged travelling with his little truck to the most remote places on Earth. He had visited old Europe city by city, crossed the Russian and Manchurian plains, the deserts and jungles of Africa, always meeting very colourful characters in all those far-flung places, important people, princes, tsars and emperors who,almost always, had lent him a handand got him out of the many predicaments he and his truck faced on the road.

  Once his wife accompanied him in his travels. It was a long trip and the woman wanted to go with him. They didn’t have children yet, although their first born was on his way. The woman had a big belly and the journey was extremely testing for her, as regardless of the position she sat on, she would feel pain throughout the body. The trip was long and the summer heat oppressive. Under the sun, the truck became a real oven. León could not bear it any longer - his mouth was dry, his tongue felt like cardboard and he was so parched he could barely swallow. Suddenly he noticed what felt like an oasis in the middle of the desert - a roadside bar-, so he stopped hurriedly, quickly getting out of the truck but in doing so, he forgot to apply the hand brake. He entered the bar to order a glass of anise. Meanwhile, his wife, who remained inside the truck, started to notice the vehicle sliding downhill. As the speed increased rapidly, the woman began to cry

  León, León, LEÓOON !!!

  León, however, was too busy sipping his glass of anise to attend to any requests. Overtaken by panic, the woman didn’t know what to do, so she finally opened the door, jumped out and rolled on the ground while watching the truck whoosh down the road until it crashed against a huge oak, uprooting it completely. The expansive wave from the blast shook all the glassinthe bar and some of the patrons came to the woman’s aid. León was not going to spoil the moment and continued drinking with all normality until he finished the shot. Only then he came out to see what had happened. He ran towards the vehicle, barely noticing his wife. He placed the palm of his hand on the hood of the truck, caressing it as if it were a wounded animal. He almost burst into tears when collecting all the merchandise that laid scattered everywhere. Fortunately, the woman had survivedthe incident with no more than a few bruises.

  The Relic

  THE LIGHT entering through a small gallery that resembled a fireplace carved in stone lit up the entire room. Several silver mirrors captured the sunlight, redirecting it to the interior rooms through a reflectorsystem. The pyramid had been built of stone in its entirety. Thesecolossal temples were devoted to astrology and to preserve their culture through the centuries. Standing tall in the heart of the cities, these pyramids were covered by a mantle of clay and finished with lime. Their surface was smooth, and their colour white which, when lit by daylightproduced a reflective effect that acted as a lighthouse. The pyramids could be seen from afar, announcing to foreign visitors and traders the location of the cities. Inside, a number of spacious rooms fulfilled different functions. The whole complex was a display of the development of their culture, not unlike our museums or libraries. The walls of the rooms were covered with inscriptions that told the story of their civilisation, their beliefs and mythological legends. In the upper room, where I was located, several human-shaped statues with animal heads of colossal proportions impressed the visitors. The hall was very large, the domed ceiling stood tall at a great height which, the gigantic statues almost reached. The massive structures bore witness to this civilisation’s technical advancements and their mastery of architecture, an art they were proud toboastto the world. No one was indifferent before the majestic pyramids and newcomers to the city were captivated by their impressive dimensions. At this point in time, “Hazel Eyes’” descendants did not use any equipment, being forced to build those architectural wonders entirely by hand. The huge stone blocks that were used for their construction were extracted from several quarries situated at great distances from the city. Large blocks were carved in stone pits and transported overland by massive wooden platforms shaped as sleighs. The tracksmanufactured to facilitate the transporting of these blocks were concealed and round stones greased to help the smooth rolling of the huge sleds.

  These was a new breed of descendants–“Hazel Eyes”’ children. What startled me most about them was that, over time, they had become increasingly more like Gardeners. They were tall and had great physical strength. The adults tended to dress in bright white colours, and the colour of their eyes-green, blue and brown- had a light hue. The same can be said for the colour and shade of their hair.

  Merchants travelled from the farthest reaches of the known world to barter in the cities of pyramids. This civilisation, besides developing better farming techniques and holding a reputation as craftsmen, were also well known for their vast markets where things from anywhere in the planet could be found. They did not use currency and all their businesseswereconducted by bartering, changing one thing for another. So, unlike earlier groups, they were able to specialise in different trades - artisans, farmers and gardeners, all of them were able to fully pursue their trades, thus achieving a much higher degree of development. They prospered rather easily because this system, unlike its predecessors’, freed them from having to worry about their survival, providing them with plenty of food for a lot less work. As a result, they were also able to invest more time to the development of the sciences, mainly mathematics and astrology.

  The specialisation in different areas lent itself to great benefits since they cultivated theirown fields and their grain crops thrived. They were also known for exporting products like honey and oil.

  Gradually they had to adjusttheir farming methods as winters became even tougher over the years. To prevent crops from freezing, they built a large system of half-ditches across all fields with water running through them to thwart the freeze and to irrigatethe fields.

  But slowly, the climate changed, and winters became increasingly colder. This was mainly due to the slight variations in the amount of energy that came from the single star. The weather was so dry that ultimately, despite their best efforts, nothing could grow in their lands. Then began a great migration, first the animals marched to warmer southern lands and finally, humans were forced to abandon those fantastic cities. Every single one of them left with the hope of returning someday. Others preferred to stay and resist. Those who made such decision and chose to stay, worked hard and covered the pyramids and the cities with soil, to protect these from looters, leaving them underground, waiting for their former inhabitants to return someday.

  Once again, they changed my position. This seemed to be the norm in recent times, as I often found myself traveling from one place to another.

  This trip was one of the longest and most intricate I remember. The land through which we passed on our continued journey southward was desolate. It seemed as though we were the last to leave, and even most animal species had left their lands. Now only snow and ice reigned over the earth. This soon made the march more complex as food became scarce. The weakest members of the group soon succumbed to the arduous expedition and our numbers were starting to decline drastically. The long migration became a race for life or death, the chillstalking us like a hunter eager to claimas manypreys as possible. Sometimes, salvation was achieved along the way by coming across people who had not yet left their territories, and these furnished us with new supplies to continue our path, a path southward joined by most of the remaining groups we met.

  Theirfinal settlement did not take place on a specific day or place. When the weather began to change, as we penetrated the southern lands, some in our group took the decision to stay and others to continue. Thus what had once been a great civilisation, was now sprawled from the land of the North to the Southern lands. At last, when they finally found the most suitable place to settle, they stopped, and in that very same place they began to build their city again. During t
he journey, they had mixed with many men of other civilisations and new cultures. The journey had lasted many years. Still, they managed to guard a lot of the knowledge of their culture and built prosperous cities where, pyramids were raised again to aim for the stars.

  Those who remained had to learn to survive in an inhospitable environment where snow prevailed over the sunshine throughout the year. Eventually, they forgot who they were and where they came from. The harsh climate had turned them intoinsensitive men who fought against one another with the single goal in mind of surviving.

 

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