By Dora A. Ayora Talavera / @DoraAyora
I like the multiple identities’ idea, especially when they are evident in unknown situations. The following narration is a good example of it, it is very similar to the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde written by R.L. Stevenson.
It all began the day she found an intruder in the backyard of her house. A black hen than dared to jump the barricade and entered the backyard to eat fresh weed. My mother was furious for some weeks and kept an eye on it; why did this animal have the temerity to eat in her territory.
Every day, as a soldier in her trench, my mother was watching the backyard, waiting patiently for the hen to come. She was not alone in this mission. Margarita her maid, was absolutely colluded with her. Both were looking for the opportunity to solve this situation.
Tired of meddling and abuses, the owner of the house decided to capture it. To reach this, she make an agreement with Margarita and organized a wily plan to catch it next time.
Three days after of this important decision, being my mother in her trench, the black hen appeared. The order was given immediately and Margarita ran after the target. Unfortunately it was a very clever hen and escaped. Both women were totally disappointed. The accomplice consoled talking with a lilt of maliciousness “Do not worry Mrs. Rosario, she will back, she knows the way”!
A week after, a second opportunity appeared. The black hen entered to backyard again, my mother gave the order, and Margarita captured it. With the animal in her hands, they decided put it in a box, they had planned to feed it, and when the animal were fat they would kill it to cook. But they had bad luck, it escaped again. They were furious. The minion told again: Do not worry Mrs. Rosario, she will back”.
Two days after the third opportunity was presented. Margarita discovered the black hen in the backyard, she whispered in my mother’s ear: “Mrs. Rosario, she is here”! Immediately my mother organized a new plan and tells: “take a piece of bread and make a path”, it has the intention to guide the hen into the house.
In this occasion, the hen was not intelligent enough. It followed the path directly to the laundry. When Margarita noticed that she commented very excited: “Mrs. Rosario it is our opportunity, stand in front of the door and close the path, I’ll go in to the laundry and I’ll catch her”. They were successful. Among the clutter and clucking only was heard: “This time we won’t wait, we are going to kill it now!” While Margarita holding the hen, my mother, without any doubt wring its neck, poor animal, it was convulsing during some minutes before it died.
My mother immediately boiled a big pot of water that she poured above the animal and plucked it. Since that day, the hen lies cutted in to pieces in the freezer waiting to be cooked.
When she tells this story, her gaze and smile have a special lilt of evil satisfaction, that is totally new for me. It makes me think that Stevenson propably was right; our metamorphosis are misterious doors that show the amazing sides that we have; and it is imposible for me to imagine that two old women walking through the fog in the sinister backyard looking for new hens that naïvely walk during the night, looking for fresh weed.