I don't know who he is, or what his intentions are, breaking into the place like that, but he watches us as if he had just seen a ghost, with a frown and one of his hands resting on the huge wooden door that he just opened. Looking at him more clearly, I see that he is wearing a worn white T-shirt, jeans, and black boots at the ends of which are noticeable brown stains of what appears to be mud or dirt. Let's say that your appearance is not the most pleasant and indicated to see after having spent the whole night on that rough and uncomfortable floor to sleep.
- Are you expecting me to apologize for interrupting you or what?
He questions misunderstood, raising his eyebrows and showing a tone of complaint. "The truth is, yes, bitter old man," I say in my mind, but I don't move a muscle on my face.
Samuel: No, not at all. Actually, we would have to apologize ourselves. This is a misunderstanding, I can explain.
He responds in the calmest tone in the world, making it impossible for me to avoid turning around and glaring at him. If my eyes spoke, they would say "Are you serious?", Showing irony and without the slightest intention of wanting to hide. I am amazed by the fact that he takes everything in stride, acknowledging his mistakes so easily, since it was something that cost me my whole life and ... I would be lying if I said I was over it. It continues to be one of the worst disadvantages of my proud character.
- Well ... you better start if you don't want me to call the police.
He says leaning on the door and crossing his legs in an x shape. He wears a three or four day gray beard that betrays his age. He is not young, but he is not an old man either ... he must be around 40 or maybe a little older.
Samuel lets go of my hand, which at no time had been released from his, and approaches the mysterious middle-aged man, who, despite his precarious appearance, observes him with contempt and superiority. I huff and cross my arms, hoping to hear another stupid comment from the stranger that will infuriate me even more, but what happens does not come close to what I expected, nor does it turn out to be as I thought. After a couple of minutes that seem like an eternity for me, being already aware of all the strange story that Samuel tells him, which begins from the day he offered to work for my father, to how we ended up being where We are now and also mentioning the detail that our relationship is more intimate than that of any bodyguard and the person for whom he works, the expression on the face of the stranger changes.
That "stranger" says his name is Daniel, greets me kindly and even invites us to breakfast at his house. Samuel looks at me, waiting for me to decide whether to accept or not. At first, I can't think of anything better than to reject him and drive off, but then I think of the cruel reality in which we need someone to repair the damn car that is still abandoned on the road. Finally I accept and we leave the place, heading to Daniel's house, who does not seem to be the same unbearable as before, but just a happy farmer, perhaps somewhat crazy but happy.
After having walked for a few minutes hand in hand with Samuel, who from time to time smiles at the stupid jokes that the man tells him, a silhouette begins to be drawn in front of me. As we get a little closer, I see what appears to be an authentic country house, with wooden walls, a tile roof and a large front porch, where you can see a wooden table and a few rocking chairs. It reminds me of the house where we lived when I was a child, of which I have very few memories. When we were just a simple family, in which my father only earned what is just and necessary to support us, not as he is now: an arrogant man who only thinks of himself and wants to reign over others.
When we are close enough to see everything, I notice how someone looks at us through one of the windows on the first floor and then disappears. Seconds later, the access door is jerked open and a girl, about four or five years old, comes out, running towards us with great emotion. It reaches Daniel and jumps to him, ascending by the force of his arms. The man turns to us with a smile on his face, which does not compare to the happiness that his daughter's eyes show, forcing me to remember how happy I was at that age and how I adored my father.