PART 1<\/p>\n
Every fortnight, only the salary fell, Martin reached his \u00a0house<\/span> in Nezahualc\u00f3yotl with the same face of defeat.<\/p>\n He worked in a packaging factory in Iztapalapa, standing 10 hours between hot machines, smell of burnt plastic and a supervisor who screamed as if everyone owed his life.<\/p>\n But what weighed most on him was not the chamba.<\/p>\n It was getting home and handing over his \u00a0card<\/span> of \u00a0bank<\/span> to his wife, Maribel.<\/p>\n That night he threw the backpack next to the old armchair and took out the wallet.<\/p>\n \u201cTake,\u201d he said, leaving the card on the table. But now give me even 300 pesos. The Chuy turns years old and everyone is going to go for some chelas.<\/p>\n Maribel was sitting with a notebook of squares, a calculator and several doubled receipts.<\/p>\n He didn’t even raise his voice.<\/p>\n I can’t, Martin. The light, water and rent came together. I can give you 30 for your tickets and 20 for balance.<\/p>\n Martin let out a bitter laugh.<\/p>\n 50 pesos? Neta? I give my back all week and you give me money like I’m a high school kid.<\/p>\n She squeezed the pen between her fingers.<\/p>\n It’s not that.<\/p>\n \u201cOf course that is it. You decide everything. You keep my card. You pay. You split. And I look like a guy, without being able to buy me even some decent tennis.<\/p>\n Maribel looked down.<\/p>\n They had been married for 10 years and 5 living in that rented, wet house with a sheet roof in the back and a wall that was broken every time it rained.<\/p>\n Martin hated that house.<\/p>\n He also hated his factory companions to mock.<\/p>\n Again without wool, do you compa? He laughed at not seeing himself burned, but inside he was gathering an ugly rage.<\/p>\n Maribel never bought anything for her.<\/p>\n PART 1<\/p>\n Every fortnight, only the salary fell, Martin reached his \u00a0house<\/span> in Nezahualc\u00f3yotl with the same face of defeat.<\/p>\n He worked in a packaging factory in Iztapalapa, standing 10 hours between hot machines, smell of burnt plastic and a supervisor who screamed as if everyone owed his life.<\/p>\n But what weighed most on him was not the chamba.<\/p>\n It was getting home and handing over his \u00a0card<\/span> of \u00a0bank<\/span> to his wife, Maribel.<\/p>\n That night he threw the backpack next to the old armchair and took out the wallet.<\/p>\n \u201cTake,\u201d he said, leaving the card on the table. But now give me even 300 pesos. The Chuy turns years old and everyone is going to go for some chelas.<\/p>\n Maribel was sitting with a notebook of squares, a calculator and several doubled receipts.<\/p>\n He didn’t even raise his voice.<\/p>\n I can’t, Martin. The light, water and rent came together. I can give you 30 for your tickets and 20 for balance.<\/p>\n Martin let out a bitter laugh.<\/p>\n 50 pesos? Neta? I give my back all week and you give me money like I’m a high school kid.<\/p>\n She squeezed the pen between her fingers.<\/p>\n It’s not that.<\/p>\n \u201cOf course that is it. You decide everything. You keep my card. You pay. You split. And I look like a guy, without being able to buy me even some decent tennis.<\/p>\n Maribel looked down.<\/p>\n They had been married for 10 years and 5 living in that rented, wet house with a sheet roof in the back and a wall that was broken every time it rained.<\/p>\n Martin hated that house.<\/p>\n He also hated his factory companions to mock.<\/p>\n Again without wool, do you compa? He laughed at not seeing himself burned, but inside he was gathering an ugly rage.<\/p>\n Maribel never bought anything for her.<\/p>\n I didn’t go to the living room.<\/p>\n I didn’t wear clothes.<\/p>\n He didn’t order food.<\/p>\n If Martin wanted tacos, she would make egg beans. \u201cThat pays for half a receipt for the gas.<\/p>\n Eventually, Martin began to be suspicious.<\/p>\n He thought Maribel sent money hidden from her family in Puebla. Or worse, that I had secret savings to leave it someday.<\/p>\n The drop that spilled the glass came on their wedding anniversary.<\/p>\n Martin returned late, tired and bad, hoping to find reheated rice.<\/p>\n But the table was set.<\/p>\n There was roasted chicken, codito soup, hot tortillas, apple soda and even a small flan.<\/p>\n Maribel wore a simple red dress, the same one she wore when they were still boyfriends and walked along the Alameda holding hands.<\/p>\n \u201cHappy anniversary, Martin,\u201d she said, smiling nervously.<\/p>\n He didn’t smile.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd this with what money did you buy it?\u201d<\/p>\n Maribel was freezing.<\/p>\n Before you answer, your \u00a0cell<\/span> She vibrated on the table.<\/p>\n Martin managed to read the message.<\/p>\n \u201cDo\u00f1a Maribel, tomorrow we signed. Bring the last payment. \u2014 Ernesto.\u201d<\/p>\n Martin\u2019s face hardened.<\/p>\n \u201cErnesto?\u201d he asked with a broken voice of courage. Who the hell is Ernesto?<\/p>\n Maribel paled.<\/p>\n Martin, wait…<\/p>\n But he had already taken the cell phone.<\/p>\n \u201c5 years taking my money to give it to another bastard!<\/p>\n Maribel opened a drawer, took out a thick yellow envelope and put it in front of him with his hands shaking.<\/p>\n Before you say anything else, open this up.<\/p>\n Martin looked at the envelope like a bomb.<\/p>\n And when he broke the flap, he felt the air stuck in his chest.<\/p>\n PART 2<\/p>\n Inside the envelope there were no love letters.<\/p>\n There were no pictures.<\/p>\n There was no evidence of a betrayal.<\/p>\n There were notary papers.<\/p>\n Martin pulled out the first blade with tense hands, still breathing like a locked bull.<\/p>\n He read the header.<\/p>\n \u201cPurchase of Sale Contract.\u201d<\/p>\n Then he saw his name.<\/p>\n Martin Hernandez Lopez.<\/p>\n And next door, hers.<\/p>\n Maribel Cruz Hernandez.<\/p>\n Then he read the address.<\/p>\n A land of 120 square meters in Tec\u00e1mac, State of Mexico.<\/p>\n Martin blinked.<\/p>\n He read again.<\/p>\n The blade seemed to mock his anger.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s this?\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n Maribel wiped a tear with the back of her hand.<\/p>\n It\u2019s our land.<\/p>\n He didn’t answer.<\/p>\n Not because he didn’t want to, but because he suddenly found no voice.<\/p>\n Maribel pulled another leaf out of the envelope.<\/p>\n It was a simple shot.<\/p>\n A 2 bedroom cottage, living room, kitchen, bathroom, service patio and a piece of garden in front.<\/p>\n In a corner, with a blue pen, someone had written:<\/p>\n \u201cSpace for Bugambilia.\u201d<\/p>\n Martin swallowed saliva.<\/p>\n When they were boyfriends, he always said that one day he would have a house with a bugambilia at the entrance, like his grandmother\u2019s in Oaxaca.<\/p>\n I was joking.<\/p>\n I was saying it when they didn’t even have to pay full the room where they lived.<\/p>\n Maribel never made fun of that dream.<\/p>\n He just kept it.<\/p>\n \u201cErnesto is no hidden man,\u201d she said in a trembling voice. He owns the land. We’re done paying him tomorrow.<\/p>\n Martin looked up.<\/p>\n The rage fell from his face little by little, like old paint in the rain.<\/p>\n \u201cDo we finish?<\/p>\n “Yes.<\/p>\n She opened the notebook of squares she always had on the table.<\/p>\n Martin had hated her for years.<\/p>\n It seemed to him the symbol of his humiliation.<\/p>\n There were all the receipts, the bills and the savings.<\/p>\n Each page had dates, amounts, payments, subscriptions and small notes.<\/p>\n \u201cRemove 100 from the chicken.\u201d The last line said:<\/p>\n \u201cLast payment: tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n Martin felt his legs loosen.<\/p>\n He sat in the nearest chair.<\/p>\n Maribel stood, wearing a worn red dress and eyes filled with a sadness that he had never stopped to look at.<\/p>\n \u201c5 years ago I saw that land announced on a cardboard stuck outside a store,\u201d he explained. It was far away, yeah. It was not a stylish area. But it cost the only thing we could try to pay for.<\/p>\n Martin covered his mouth.<\/p>\n Why did you never tell me?<\/p>\n Maribel let out a broken laugh.<\/p>\n \u201cBecause every time we talked about money we ended up fighting. You came tired, rightly so. I was tired too. And if I told you, you were going to want to use that money to rest a little, to give you a taste, to feel no less than your friends.<\/p>\n He lowered his head.<\/p>\n That was true.<\/p>\n \u201cI thought if I told you before, we wouldn\u2019t make it,\u201d she continued. Then I’d rather carry your anger. I preferred to tell me stingy, exaggerated, controlling… before we see each other another 10 years paying rent.<\/p>\n Martin closed his eyes.<\/p>\n He got all the memories at once.<\/p>\n The time he yelled at him because he only gave him 20 pesos for the truck.<\/p>\n The time she went to sleep without dinner to punish her.<\/p>\n The time his friends told him that Maribel \u201chad him well domesticated\u201d and he, burned, came to repeat the same thing in his face.<\/p>\n The time she cried short in the kitchen and he pretended to be asleep.<\/p>\n What a coward it felt.<\/p>\n How small.<\/p>\n Maribel pulled out a third sheet.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd there\u2019s something else.<\/p>\n Martin raised his face, scared.<\/p>\n \u201cMore?<\/p>\n She nodded.<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t just pay for the ground. I also pushed away material. Cement, rod, block. Don Ernesto has a mason cousin. It will help us to lift first 2 rooms and the bathroom. It’s not gonna look pretty at first. Maybe I don’t even have a flat. But it’s gonna be ours.<\/p>\n Martin began to cry in silence.<\/p>\n Not like in the movies.<\/p>\n Not with dignity.<\/p>\n He wept with his face twisted, his shoulders overcome and the shame piercing his chest.<\/p>\n Maribel came slowly.<\/p>\n I wanted tacos, too, Martin. I also wanted to go out. I also wanted to buy new shoes and not remember them. I also wanted you not to look at me like I’m your enemy.<\/p>\n He let out a sob.<\/p>\n \u201cForgive me.<\/p>\n \u201cBut every time I said \u2018no,\u2019 it wasn\u2019t because I didn\u2019t love you. It was because I was keeping a piece of wall, a window, a \u00a0door<\/span>.<\/p>\n Martin pressed the papers against his chest.<\/p>\n I thought you were taking my life.<\/p>\n Maribel denied with her head.<\/p>\n \u201cI was putting you together a place so you could rest without fear.<\/p>\n That phrase broke it.<\/p>\n Because he had always believed that he needed money to feel like a man.<\/p>\n Money to invite a round.<\/p>\n Money not to look bad.<\/p>\n Money so that others would not make fun of it.<\/p>\n But Maribel, silent and with her little book of squares, had understood something deeper.<\/p>\n What he needed was not a beer to forget life.<\/p>\n I needed a life I didn’t want to escape.<\/p>\n Martin got up and hugged her.<\/p>\n At first she was stiff.<\/p>\n He had received so many claims that even affection seemed suspicious.<\/p>\n But then he leaned his forehead on his chest and also cried.<\/p>\n The food cooled on the table.<\/p>\n The flan started to water.<\/p>\n The soda lost gas.<\/p>\n None of that mattered.<\/p>\n For several minutes, only 2 of them existed, hugging in the kitchen of a rented house that no longer looked like jail, but farewell.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m an idiot,\u201d Martin said in tears. I accused you of horrible things.<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Maribel replied, without sweetening him.<\/p>\n He looked at her, surprised.<\/p>\n She took a deep breath.<\/p>\n \u201cYes you were unfair. It did hurt. If many nights I thought I’d stop trying. I’m not stone, Martin.<\/p>\n He ducked his head.<\/p>\n That was the strongest blow.<\/p>\n Not writing it.<\/p>\n Not the ground.<\/p>\n Not the plane.<\/p>\n It was understanding that Maribel was not a novel saint who endured without feeling.<\/p>\n She was a tired woman who had chosen to stay, even when her own husband made her feel alone.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t want you to apologize just today,\u201d she said. I want you to change.<\/p>\n Martin nodded quickly.<\/p>\n I will change.<\/p>\n Don\u2019t say it for crying. Say it with facts.<\/p>\n He took the \u00a0card<\/span> of \u00a0bank<\/span> from the table and put it in her hand.<\/p>\n Then she did something she didn’t expect.<\/p>\n He pulled out his cell phone, opened the bank’s app and showed him the screen.<\/p>\n \u201cFrom tomorrow, we\u2019ve seen him together. The bills, the payments, everything. I don’t want you to charge this alone anymore. And if there’s no chela, there’s no. If there’s for block, go for block.<\/p>\n Maribel looked at him for a long time.<\/p>\n Like I want to believe him, but be afraid.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about your friends?\u201d<\/p>\n Martin wiped his face.<\/p>\n \u201cThey laugh. Let them say what they want. None of them are building a house for me.<\/p>\n For the first time all night, Maribel really smiled.<\/p>\n They sat down for dinner.<\/p>\n The chicken was already warm, but Martin knew as a banquet.<\/p>\n I looked at the plane between bite and bite.<\/p>\n \u201cWas it the kitchen here?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n “Yes.<\/p>\n \u201cWith \u00a0window<\/span> Big?<\/p>\n Maribel smiled.<\/p>\n With large window. As you always wanted for me.<\/p>\n Martin took a hand to his chest.<\/p>\n \u201cI thought you didn\u2019t remember that nonsense anymore.<\/p>\n \u201cIt wasn\u2019t nonsense,\u201d she said. They were poor dreams, but dreams at last.<\/p>\n The next day, Martin did not go to the factory.<\/p>\n He asked for leave without pay, although before it would have hurt him to lose that day.<\/p>\n He accompanied Maribel to Tec\u00e1mac.<\/p>\n They took combi, then another truck, then walked several dirt streets.<\/p>\n The ground was fenced with rusty mesh.<\/p>\n There was no grass.<\/p>\n There was no shadow.<\/p>\n Only dry dirt, stones and a sign twisted with white paint.<\/p>\n But when Maribel opened the lock, Martin came in as one steps on a miracle.<\/p>\n He squatted down, took a fist of dirt and cried again.<\/p>\n \u201cHere\u2019s the bugambilia,\u201d she said, pointing to the entrance.<\/p>\n Martin smiled with red eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd here I\u2019m going to put a chair to see you cook out the window.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t invent, dude,\u201d Maribel said, laughing in tears. First we have to raise walls.<\/p>\n He laughed too.<\/p>\n That laugh came different.<\/p>\n Less heavy.<\/p>\n Cleaner.<\/p>\n They signed the last payment with Don Ernesto, a gentleman with a hat, a graying mustache and field hands.<\/p>\n There was no music.<\/p>\n There were no balloons.<\/p>\n There was no party.<\/p>\n Just a signature, a handshake and an old key that didn\u2019t open any doors yet, but opened a future.<\/p>\n That night, Martin went back to the factory.<\/p>\n His companions soon bothered him.<\/p>\n What happened, compa? Now they let you go of wool?<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d he replied, calmly.<\/p>\n \u201cThen?<\/p>\n Martin smiled.<\/p>\n I was released a new life.<\/p>\n They all let go of laughs.<\/p>\n \u201cThis one has already become a poet.<\/p>\n Before, those taunts would have made him burn.<\/p>\n Not that time.<\/p>\n Because now I knew that there were shames that one carries because one looks good with people who do not pay your bills, does not dry your tears and does not sleep with you under a dripping ceiling.<\/p>\n When he left, he bought a rose at the traffic light.<\/p>\n It cost 25 pesos.<\/p>\n It was not fine.<\/p>\n He had a broken spine and the petals a little abused.<\/p>\n But Martin wore it like it was a jewel.<\/p>\n When she gave it to Maribel, she received her without saying anything.<\/p>\n Then she looked at the flower, looked at her husband and asked:<\/p>\n Did you come out of the budget?<\/p>\n Martin was 1 second serious.<\/p>\n Then the 2 laughed.<\/p>\n Not because poverty was funny.<\/p>\n But because, for the first time in years, they were facing it on the same side.<\/p>\n Weeks later, they left the \u00a0house<\/span> rented.<\/p>\n The wall with moisture was left behind.<\/p>\n There were also the fights for 100 pesos, long silences and suspicions that almost rot love.<\/p>\n The new house was still just 2 rooms, a bathroom without tile and a kitchen with cement floor.<\/p>\n But I had something the other one never had.<\/p>\n Peace.<\/p>\n Martin learned that not all \u201cno\u201d are lack of love.<\/p>\n Sometimes a \u201cno\u201d is a woman swallowing her own desire to save a dream.<\/p>\n Sometimes the person who seems tougher is the one who is breaking the most inside.<\/p>\n And sometimes, before calling someone stingy, it is advisable to look closely if you are not silently keeping the future that you asked for and then forgot.<\/p>\n <\/center> <\/center><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" PART 1 Every fortnight, only the salary fell, Martin reached his \u00a0house in Nezahualc\u00f3yotl with the same face of defeat.…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1868,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1867","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1867","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1867"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1867\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1869,"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1867\/revisions\/1869"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1868"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1867"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1867"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flavorlab.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1867"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n\u201cYour old lady does bring you short.
\n\u201cMy mom didn\u2019t even control me like that.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYour old lady does bring you short.
\n\u201cMy mom didn\u2019t even control me like that.<\/p>\n
\nIf he wanted to go to the movies, she said they better watch a movie on TV.
\nIf she asked for money for a roast meat, she would reply:<\/p>\n
\n\u201cDo not buy blouse.\u201d
\n\u201cSave extra hours of Martin.\u201d
\n\u201cMadm Lawy\u2019s Seams: 250.\u201d
\n\u201cPayment Ernesto: 1,800.\u201d
\n\u201c23,400 is missing.\u201d
\n\u201cThere are 12,000 missing.\u201d
\n\u201c3,500 are missing.\u201d<\/p>\n