The Young Bodyguard

May: What? Why?

Samuel: Something came up ... they took my mom to the hospital.

I take his hand, which until that moment was lying on his leg and give a gentle squeeze with my fingers.

May: Is it very serious?

I ask looking at him, but his eyes are still fixed on the empty street and I prefer not to question the causes of such news, since it seems to be not very pleasant to talk about it.

Samuel: I don’t know ... the doctor says he’s conscious, but ...

May (I cut him off): Don’t worry, I’m talking to Daddy.

Samuel (turns around): Would you really do that?

May (smile): Obviously I would.

He makes a face, as if he’s trying to smile too but his humor won’t allow it. He looks at my lips and moves closer to meet his, extending his arm and placing it on the back of the bench, behind my back. My right hand clings more to hers, while the left, which until then was free, goes up to her cheek, caressing her gently and ruffling her hair with just a movement of the fingers. The kiss is kept at a slow, serene pace just like the way he looks after we part.

May: It would be better if you go and talk to him now, otherwise he falls asleep and ...

Samuel: Go (interrupts, rubbing my shoulder still surrounded by his left arm).

May: Are you not coming?

Samuel: I don’t think it’s a good idea to go in together.

I open the door and close it behind me, moving in the style of a failed ghost who seeks not to be warned under any circumstances, unlike the fact that ghosts are not afraid of their parents as I am of mine at the moment, nor do they depend on what they are. they decide to do.

When I look around I discover that the darkness invaded even the smallest corner of the room that I left a while ago, where not even the lamps that escort the sofa are lit. I see nothing. I swear for having left my cell phone in my room.

I begin to walk straight with short and timid steps, trying not to bump into anything and I think I have succeeded until I feel pressure in my stomach, accompanied by the noise of something falling reaching my ears. By bringing my hands forward I recognize the table top and notice the absence of the wicker spheres that rested on it as decoration and now they are gone, assuming that was what fell to the floor. I ignore this fact, since, anyway, I could not find them with such a lack of light, so I let out a sigh and head towards where I think the stairs should be. I am so happy to achieve it that I am surprised at myself for being excited by such a stupid event.

Luckily for me, the hallway upstairs is lit up and it doesn’t take long for me to visualize the room whose door my father opened earlier. Now standing in front of her, I sigh and rap twice with my knuckles. I’m about to leave, thinking they must have slept when the doorknob turns and my mother’s face appears on the other side.

May: Can I talk to dad?

She raises her eyebrows in amazement and rests the back of her hand on my forehead for a few seconds. I look at her unaware.

Cathy: Are you feeling okay?

I sigh and roll my eyes at what he means.

Cathy (laughs): What did I miss?

May: You are welcome, believe me.

Cathy: Well now what ...

- What happened?

He interrupts, appearing in his pajamas from somewhere and standing behind his wife.

Cathy: Your daughter wants to talk to you.

Tomás (looks at me): Really? Wow.

May: DO YOU FINISH IT?

Tomás (laughs): Now I’m going to your room.

I huff and do the same, waiting for him there. He appears a few minutes later with a dark robe falling over his shoulders. He sits on my bed, where I am too and looks at me, so I start to speak, while he watches me attentively with a frown. When finished, I look at him anxiously, hoping that his decision is a yes but ...

Thomas: No.

May: You can’t be like that. He is...

Tomás (interrupts me): He’s working May, he can’t just leave like that.

May: ”Why so?” If your mom was admitted, would you really care about your job?

He sighs and looks away.

May: If you don’t want to do it for him, do it for me.

He looks at me narrowing his eyes in a strange and unintelligible expression.

Tomás: Why do you care so much about that boy?