In the distance I can see them playing. There must be about twelve or thirteen. As I get nearer, I see Melanio's house too -a
capiro building up front which shows his humble beginning. In the back, however, a cement construction still in the making tells everybody that Melanio's family does not belong to those who have resigned themselves to their lot. Before I cross onto the dirt road that leads to his home, I must jump over the smelly flow of black water that runs along most of these streets. The heat makes the stench almost unbearable. Except for some ducks, endless numbers of flies and mosquitoes and the children nothing else seems able to thrive in this place. When they see me, they come running on account of the goodies I sometimes bring along. There is also this little girl who is always the first to come and the last to leave. The first time I saw her, I felt aghast at her skinny build. I learned that her "mother" is her own teenage sister. I wonder how a child looks after another child. I knock on Melanio's door and call out his name as it is the custom here. While I wait for someone to come out, I turn back my attention to the children. They are playing a soccer match on a dirt road full of potholes. The game does not seem to follow any rule; in fact it is very chaotic. But they are enjoying it a lot. Then I look across the street. Suddenly reality hits me. Some three or four sacs of coffee are spread out on a long black plastic strip. Now and then, the children's ball lands on the coffee sending some grains flying off the
mantada. The coffee's owner does not mind the playing because, later, he will pick and sac everything, pebbles and dirt included.
Don Jaime, how are you? We thought you were not coming - It is Paulina, Melanio's wife. Her welcome has genuine warmth, so my initial awkwardness starts to evaporate.
Hi, Paulina. Is Melanio home? - I have come expecting to get some coffee he promised.
Yes -She smiles as if they owed me something.
Come this way, Don Jaime.
We go through a small patio where several chickens and ducks are pecking. There is also a couple of very thin dogs which do not seem to have eaten for a long time. She says something about the coffee season being the worst in years with money barely enough to pay the hand pickers' wages. I really do not know what to make of this comment since it is perhaps one of the most often-heard on the part of farmers. I am introduced into a very small living room. Paulina invites me to sit down and disappaers immediately. The room is bare except for two rundown osier sofas and a coffee table. I remember I had given up the idea of getting cofee when Melanio came to tell me that he had several sacs of coffee. I found this a little odd because a week before he himself had informed me that he had nothing left. Perhaps he has got some from his father or even from his father-in-law who are both well known coffee growers in Pangoa. I have also heard that Melanio's relatives were strong supporters of the Shining Path -a very bloody-minded terrorist group that laid waste to large parts of the country in the early 80's and 90's. Since there are still remnants of this and other guerrilla groups in the area, I cannot help thinking what would take Melanio to set me up an ambush on behalf of the Shining Path. After all, this was a very common thing for them to do a few years back. Just a month ago, a man by the name of Carrasco, a coffee buyer too, was ambushed together with his wife on their way to a coffee deal up in the mountains. Both were shot dead. I start to imagine my behaviour if some
camaradas appeared. Instead, Melanio enters with his slow-motion stride.
Don Jaime, I'm very glad you've come. He seems he was not expecting me to come despite my having assured him. Also he is drunk.
Well, why not? I deal with coffee, you know.
Melanio sits and remains silent as if he had something grave he cannot tell me.
Look, Don Jaime. I don't know how to tell you this. You know I'm a man of few words. -he feels ill at ease, and I feel awkward again. I wonder what he is trying to tell me. I feel afraid. At that moment, I decide it is better to be clear.
Well, Melanio, I'm here because you promised coffee. You have coffee, don't you?
All along he was looking down to the floor. Suddenly, for the first time, he looks up at me clearly alarmed.
Yes, yes Don Jaime. Don't ever think I'd make a fool of you. The coffee out there is for you. It is just that... -he wriggles his hands and he is clearly struggling to tell me something. I only hope it is not another money advance.
How long have we known each other, Don Jaime?
About two years.
I remember -for the first time I see Melanio smiling-
someone in San Ramon tellling me that there was a guy from Lima lending money for coffee. Do you remember that, Don Jaime?
What I recall is that I had no clients at the beginning. Nobody wanted to sell me. I think you were my first client, Melanio.
He squints his eyes.
Yeah. That day back home I told my wife, and she's a witness, that I was going to sell you my whole lot. And I've fulfilled my word, ain't I?
Yes, Melanio and I thank you for that because up to that moment I wasn't sure I'd be able to become a coffee buyer. I'd never bought coffee before that.
Oh, come on, Don Jaime. You must be pulling my leg.-Melanio lets out a big guffaw, which, considering his personality, is almost an oxymoron-
what then did you use to do?
It's a long story.-I do not want this to become too personal. Besides I do not know where all of this is leading to.
But I'm sure you haven't asked me to come to remember this, right?
No, no please. Look, Don Jaime, I told Paulina about this decision and she agrees with me.
He breaths deeply and I cannot help holding my own too.
I want you to become my oldest son's godfather.
As I leave his house late at night, I look hard through the darkness so as not to fall on the stinky flow. With some
cañazo running wild in my blood, I am not very sure about my steps. How in hell did I end up here? A few years back I did not even know about the existence of this town. I look back. The street fell silent several hours ago. There are no children left. What is the little one's name? I have been a bachelor for quite a bit. What if I adopted her? I could take her to Lima, and if I got married, she could even... What a silly thought! Oh, shit! Deep in my thoughts, I did not realize that I had to jump to cross the black creek. Suddenly I find myself lying in the middle if this disgusting mud. Slowly, I stand, and, instead of cursing and yelling, something inside makes me laugh. Initially it is a muffled laugh, but somehow it acquires a life of its own. My whole body shakes, and the laugh comes in bursts that are uncontrollable. I am laughing at the disgusting smell and my idiotic fall and the fact that now I am about to become a godfather. I also laugh remembering those guinea pigs eating away Melanio's osier furniture and how frightened I was about guerrillas hiding under the sofas just to find a bunch of rodents that got a big scare in seeing my face. Tears run down my cheeks and my abdomen hurts. Yes, life has interesting and inscrutable twists.
