Lonely woman

I really don't know which bothered me more, the incandescent sun or the endless rain. I would like to live in a city where I knew what the weather would be, to receive that climatic blessing. It is better that I repeat to myself that it is a blessing because if I get to say the opposite word, I might feel on my face not the gentle breeze, but the strong gesture of my father making me change my mind.

My father is not that he is an evil man, he just sometimes wants us all to make the same decisions, and if we don't... Oh, oh, I can feel his loud growl on my face.

-I liked the rain when I was a small boy, by then my parents wouldn't let me bathe outside with the jets of rainwater falling in the garden.

-Now that I'm older, I can't bathe in the rain because my bronchial tubes are fragile and contract. The things of life, hehe.

This is what I was thinking as I walked from my father's workshop to my house. We did not live far away from people but when we reached a certain limit, we did find the houses that were distant from each other, so it was almost impossible to walk and meet acquaintances so as not to get bored on the way down the road.

I was walking, looking at the pavement, with my hat on my head from the sun and my sturdy rubber shoes. Suddenly I see this girl. She was wearing brown jeans and a pink, baggy t-shirt, swaying in the breeze. Her hair was a laugh, the color of sun-roasted corn. I'd never seen her around here before. I picked up my pace before we crossed over the bridge. Since after there is a fork in the road, she might take the opposite path from me.

-Hi, we are walking on the same path, are you going home? - I asked her. Although I thought she would turn me down, she did not.

“Yes, I'm going in search of something I left behind.” -She answered me.

-I'm sorry, but I've never seen you before. You're not from around here, are you? -I asked her.

She looked at me, stopped, and said in a firm voice... "You're not one of those men who take advantage of a lonely woman, are you? Because I have to tell you that I carry a defense weapon in my pants and, I know how to use it very well. In case you have any intentions of overdo it with me."

-No, no; you mustn't worry, I would never go overboard with a lonely girl. I promise-

I live very close to here, so I can only accompany you for a few more minutes. Unless you cross here at the fork.

To which she continues walking and then tells me that yes, she must cross at the fork. She is staying with a family friend of hers, for a certain period of time. Until she gets what she came for.

-Ah, are you at the Petersons'? Or the Morrisons? They are the two closest families here - I replied him -

"Yes, I'm staying with the Peterson family. I'll see you later, I have to continue crossing here."

-I'm David and you?

She turns, looks at me for seconds and, in a small rise in tone, says to me... “call me Cielo”.

This is how Cielo and I have met on several occasions on the same road that leads to our respective homes. It is always at the same time, never before or after, it is rare. She's a very low-income girl, at least that's the image she gives me. She always wears the same jeans and the same blouse. She's always clean, though.

She smells like the soft country breeze, fig blossom, Mastranto leaf, with rosemary and lemongrass. She is a sweet girl who keeps her personal comments to herself. Nothing is out of tune, she doesn't ask ordinary questions. I am careful not to bother her with my comments because I enjoy her company along the way.

I asked her which was her favorite flower of all the ones she saw in town. She was thoughtful and said...

"I like the flower that smells the most when you leave it on the plant. I don't like it when they cut the flowers, let alone cut the plants to please people."

One afternoon I thought I would please her with a surprise visit to the Petersons. I took one of the plants my mother planted and thought I would bring it as a gift. Along with some delicious muffins that my mother used to bake on weekends.

We had been meeting on the road for several weeks now and I was curious to see how it related to the Petersons.

It was quite a hike from the fork in the road to the Peterson's house, but there was the house.

They were sitting in front of the house. Breathing in the fresh afternoon aroma and sipping a good cup of coffee.

-Good afternoon, how are you? -I asked them... I have arrived at a good time. My mother has sent you these sweet rolls that will make a good combination with your delicious afternoon coffee.

They invited me to sit down, took a chair and all greeted me with their usual affection.

There was the eldest son of the family, José. I thought he might still be in another town and was surprised to see him. So I greeted him and asked him when he had returned.

To which he mentioned to me that he had only been there a few months. He had only come to rest, he didn't plan to stay long.

I noticed he was a little sad, different from how I had known him since he was a child. But I didn't think anything of it.

After spending a few minutes talking I asked them about their new tenant. I had taken something to her too. That plant she had in her hand, with a very aromatic flower that her mother had recommended to her.

They stared at David. Surprised. To which Jose asked him in turn...

Which tenant?

David, surprised, not knowing what to say, tells them how he met the girl on the road, who assured him she lived with them. She told me her name... -her name is Cielo-

Jose jumps up from the chair he was sitting on and walks towards me. Taking me by the shoulders and looking me straight in the eyes, he asks me.

Who told you about Cielo, where did you meet her, what's going on?

David was confused, and asked, "What's going on? She's a very nice girl and we've become road buddies, that's all.

Joseph, saddened, says to David. "That's why you found me in this house, my friend. To forget Cielo. I came to visit my parents and she agreed to come later. She was my wife and she died in a road accident when she was on her way here. She was driving her car but she didn't know the road, and entering another town nearby, she was hit by a truck and there she was left."

David listened in amazement. With his eyes wide open, he could not get over his astonishment at what his friend José was telling him.

Thinking, David answered José at that moment... -Now I can explain why she always wears the same clothes, why I always meet her at the same time. Why she doesn't like to talk about personal things. She comes every day walking, from where her car left her and arrives at your house looking for you. She is a soul in sorrow for not having finished her way to your presence.

Turning to everyone David says... We must talk to an authority in the church to put her to rest in peace, my friends.