Un Par De Botas
Sentao en su despacho el comisario, estaba hojeando expedientes
Cuando el cabo se presento trayendo al detenido
Un mozo de treinta años, a lo sumo
Vestía bomba-cha gris y corra lera, pilchas que a juzgar por la vejes
Daban pruebas de la miseria e su dueño
- Me lo entrego el sargento comisario, este es el que ante ayer robo unas botas del boliche de los Paz
- Unas botas? Ah aja
- Ladrón barato
- Como te llamas vos?
- Orencio nievas
- Y de ande sos?
- De aca mesmo señor
- Trabajas?
- No señor, no hallo trabajo
Estuve conchabo para la cosecha en la chacra e los bar cala, pero en cuantito termino la juntada e maíz, me echaron
Ahora hago algunas changas y ansí vivo
- A que le llamas changas, a andar robando?
El paisano bajo la vista al suelo
- Ande tenes las botas?
- En el rancho
- Cabo, mande a buscarlas y páselo nomas al calaboso, a este ratero, que ya vamos a ver cuanto le damos
Salio el cabo llevándose al detenido y el comisario, se quedo pensando
- Un par de botas
Ni pa robar sirven estos paisanos vagos
No habían pasado dos horas que un milico se le cuadro en la puerta
- Con licencias
Aqui tiene las botas comisario, me las dio la mujer del detenido, las tenia puesta el hijo, un chiquilin de unos siete años
- Ah aja, con que esas son las botas?
Son muy chicas pa ensuciarse las manos
Que decía la mujer?
- Y nada, lloraba como una Madalena, comisario, y cuando me iva dir, me dio esta carta, pa que se la entregara a ud. En sus propias manos
- Aver deame_
Jeh, mujeres que le piden los maridos, nada mas natural, pero lo malo que siempre los hayan angelitos aunque le hagan sombra al mesmo diablo
Pero esa carta, era distinta a todas
Escrita en un papel de estraza, mugriento y arrugao
Las palabras, eran una hilera torpe de garabatos, que había estampado la gracia y la inocencia, de aquella criaturita de siete años, ajeno por completo a la desgracia que la miseria echo sobre su rancho
El ceño el comisario se fruncía al tiempo que la iba descifrando
Y al acabar de leer casi temblaba, la hoja e papel entre sus manos
- Agente
- Mande mi comisario
- Vaya y deguelva a la mujer de Nievas, esas botas que ha tráido, dígale.. Dígale que jue un error, que nos disculpe
Dispués me le pregunta al bolichero, cuanto cuestan las botas, se las paga y que se olvide el caso
Espere, Espere no se vaya
A Orencio Nievas ya mesmo me lo larga, y que no deje de llegarse hasta aca, mañana mesmo
Puede que le haya encontrao, algún trabajo
Se retiro el milico tras la orden, el comisario se acomodo en la silla, y al par que liaba un poco de tabaco, repaso aquella carta, que aun temblaba como un pajarito hondeao entre sus manos
- Señores reyes magos
Yo les pido que se acuerden este año, de traerme las botitas
Yo soy bueno, y a según me han contao, los otros chicos
Si uno se porta bien todito el año, ustedes, no se olvidan del rigalo
Al apartar la mirada de la hoja, sintió como una brasa dentro el pecho, y echo ajuera la rabia murmurando
Mientras que la miseria haga ladrones de esta laya
Yo nunca... Servire pa comisario
A Pair of Boots
Sitting in his office, the commissioner was flipping through files
When the corporal showed up bringing the detainee
A young man of thirty, at most
He was wearing gray pants and a worn-out shirt, clothes that judging by their age
Gave evidence of their owner's poverty
- The sergeant handed him over, commissioner, this is the one who stole some boots from the Paz's bar two days ago
- Some boots? Uh-huh
- Cheap thief
- What's your name?
- Orencio Nievas
- Where are you from?
- Right from here, sir
- Do you work?
- No sir, I can't find work
I was hired for the harvest at the Barcala farm, but as soon as the corn gathering was over, they fired me
Now I do odd jobs and that's how I live
- What do you call odd jobs, stealing?
The countryman lowered his gaze to the ground
- Where are the boots?
- In the ranch
- Corporal, go get them and take this thief to the cell, we'll see how much we give him
The corporal left with the detainee and the commissioner stayed thinking
- A pair of boots
These lazy countrymen are not even good for stealing
Not two hours had passed when a policeman stood at the door
- With your permission
Here are the boots, commissioner, the detainee's wife gave them to me, their son, a little boy of about seven, was wearing them
- Uh-huh, so these are the boots?
They are too small to dirty their hands
What did the woman say?
- Nothing, she cried like a Magdalene, commissioner, and as I was leaving, she gave me this letter to deliver to you. In your own hands
- Let me see_
Hmm, women asking things from their husbands, nothing more natural, but the bad thing is that they always find angels even if they cast a shadow on the devil himself
But this letter was different from all
Written on a dirty and wrinkled brown paper
The words were a clumsy row of scribbles, stamped with the grace and innocence of that seven-year-old child, completely unaware of the misfortune that poverty had brought upon their ranch
The commissioner's brow furrowed as he deciphered it
And as he finished reading, the paper trembled in his hands
- Agent
- Yes, commissioner
- Go and return Nievas' wife the boots she brought, tell her.. Tell her it was a mistake, apologize to her
Then ask the barkeeper how much the boots cost, pay for them and forget the case
Wait, wait, don't leave
Release Orencio Nievas right away, and make sure he comes here tomorrow
Maybe I've found him some work
The policeman left after the order, the commissioner settled in his chair, and as he rolled some tobacco, he reread that letter, which still trembled like a bird fluttering in his hands
- Wise men
I ask you to remember this year to bring me the little boots
I am good, and as I've been told, the other kids
If one behaves well all year, you don't forget the gift
As he looked away from the page, he felt a burning sensation in his chest, and let out his anger murmuring
As long as poverty turns people into thieves
I will never... Serve as a commissioner