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Things were getting difficult because I not started yet to inquire the whereabouts of the
son of Belicena Villca and my vacations were ending. However when I left from Santa María, the
moral was high and I had more faith than ever. To that had contributed the prolonged
conferences that I sustained with extraordinary relative. But let’s go back to those days of my
convalescence, when Uncle Kurt initiated the narration of his fantastic life.
Chapter II
As I’m medic, in the first days of the convalescence, I comphrehended that this would be
long, so, disposing of the enough time, I did not see any reasons to not tell my adventure to
Uncle Kurt. I never experienced the desire to share my business whith anyone and I have never
had confidents neither. But now it was different. Since the day of the seism, I came bemoaning
because I had nobody to trust; someone the enough «spirtual» as to not scoff about the events
occurred around the death of Beliena Villca. But who could also dispose of the necessary
freedom to assume a knowledge that implied so grave dangers.
Ina given moment I thought to resort to Profesor Ramírez, but then I felt ashamed
about this selfish idea that could put in danger the life and mind of this exemplary man
dedicated to his charis and family.
I was disgruntled since then because I felt that I was starting to manage ideas that were
too «big», too inhuman, that could perturbe me if I not shared them. Hence that suddenly a
man resuscitates the past of my blood to whom I never dreamt to met. A solitary man like
me; of action. An experienced man and in an age in which is not feared for life due to the
death begins to become a reality.
Yes –I thought decided– I’d trust everything to Kurt.
At the beginning we talk about trifles because we avoided to tell our secrests; I didn’t
reveal the motive of my visist and he about the brutal attack of the dogs and his truncheon. I
spoke him about my studies and parents; he explained me the techniques to obtain a good
arrope of opuntia.
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