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Sergeant Francisco Melo saw that the cart was pulled at a trot by a team of oxen and sensed some problem after twenty years of service. Indeed, the driver of the car jumped at the foot of the car, sitting on the ground was another man armed with a 16-gauge double-barreled shotgun.- Meu Saryento, meu Saryento...Melo left the National Gendarmerie detachment and questioned the man about the event. The farmer, a tall, skinny, gangly man with mid-shoulder pants, wore booties without stockings, wore a khaki shirt, whitish on the back due to the solidification of perspiration from several days of work in the farm and with a strong smell of body that does not know of perfumes. He took the gendarme to the car, with his extremely light blue eyes with a shine that reflected fear, in a look of despair, he raised the strikeout, revealing the inert body of a pig that had a few teeth in the neck. He asked the Gendarme – See meu Saryento, what could have happened, with this porco-. Melo, first wanted to boast of knowing and gave his verdict almost with negligence and boredom - A tiger attacked him, he sentenced-. It was when the settler who was sitting on the floor of the car took a knife, giving several slashes to the quarters and shoulders of the dead pig saying, see Mr. Gendarme, not a drop of blood... Three of us found with this -.For that already a small crowd had crowded around the car. Every time a movement was seen near the Gendarmerie Group of the sparsely populated "El Cruce", people came to find out what had happened. Melo went inside the precarious wooden building and called his superiors on the radio, something strange was happening in the vicinity of El Cruce, a force veterinarian would come to see the dead pig, ending the episode. Juan Secundino Peralta was a forest ranger, he had his headquarters in the town of Dos de Mayo, about 25 kilometers from El Crossing. With clear Creole features, black hair combed with gel, a trimmed mustache; tall, strong, forty-four years old, with almost 25 services. He wore an immaculate period ranger uniform with a high-top lace-up bootie that shone at the slightest touch of light. His bandoliers, belt, and holster that housed a 357 Magnun from Schmit and Wesson looked the same. An affable, cordial, correct man, he stood out in his personal appearance for having a heavy silver tie clip that belonged to his grandfather first and then to his father, now he had inherited it, a jewel of great material and personal value. Another highly prized jewel was the large silver buckle on her belt with her initials JSP, in gold. Famous for not being afraid of anyone, capable of giving anyone who tried to bribe him a very bad time, he was feared by the marginals because in several episodes he arrested or shot away the timber thieves from the treasury that was being populated, creating a new colony . He spoke Spanish correctly and gave the farmers a hard time who, having lived in Argentina for many years, expressed themselves in Portuguese, because despite the fact that he understood the foreign language correctly, he wanted to instill in the immigrants the language of his homeland: the Argentina. To carry out the inspections of the mountains to be felled, he traveled by bus from Dos de Mayo to El Cruce, where in the rudimentary stable of the Gendarmerie Group he had his horse, a tan with shiny hair and a great height, which was the astonishment and the envy of horse lovers. He himself would saddle him with holy patience and parody, when he was criticized for this, the saying of Napoleon Bonaparte: - I saddle up slowly because I'm in a hurry-. He shared a mate with Melo and he commented on the episode of the pig and the fear of the settlers, various jokes were made about what it could be. He mounted the horse heading towards Km. 1269 of National Route 14. As his steed, Juan Secundino, passed by, he thought that a man on horseback was worth five or more on foot in a fight, the horse for him was his castle, his friend, his other part, an extension of his body, a symbiosis that turned the brute and his rider into a centaur. At km 1269, he took a picada and then a trail to go to the house of Roberto Rockenbach, a German strong as a bull who wanted to sell some trees to improve his economic situation and enlarge his house. Together with the German they toured, always on horseback, the places in the forest, where he marked the trunks that would be felled, completed his report, gave the settler the amount of the estimate and stayed with that man for the rest of the day, chatting about very important topics. diverse and especially about Nazi Germany, an aspect that fascinated Juan Secundino.When the sun finished hiding behind the mountains, in the usual way he saddled up the toast and went out to look for the main picada, to then reach Route 14, he estimated that at 10 p.m. he would be arriving at the Gendarmerie Group, where he would leave the horse and stay at Guillermo Campos' pension. A man accustomed to danger, he was pensive when the toast stopped dead, snorting, at the same time Juan Secundino's eyes stopped. hairs on the back of the neck and sensed the danger, because he not only felt "something strange" in the environment but also a strong fetid, sour, penetrating odor that he could not discern. After the scare, in a few seconds he recovered his composure, with his left hand he took the five-element flashlight that hung in a special holster to the left of the mount and with his right he took out the Winchester 44-40 carbine from the holster on the side. right of the chair He put the reins in his mouth, lay down on the horse's back and at the same time switched on the lantern, released the rein from between his teeth, urged on the toast by digging his spurs into his flanks. Faithful to the master's intention, the toast jumped forward and the yellow circle of light made a hole in the darkness, revealing only for a few moments the atrocious, dangerous, indefinite figure of an existence that could not discern whether it was animal or human: Straight, hard black hair, eyes like embers in the dark, white teeth shining in the moonlight and that stinking stench. The "Winche" thundered in the dark, giving flashes of death, the monster moved away and the toasted one increased in its gallop, made one with its master in fear. Upon reaching a clearing on the top of the hill, Juan Secundino turned off the flashlight and fired several shots into the air, so that whatever was on the road would be scared and to give himself a bit of calm. He arrived at the town. , in the pension he commented on the episode with some. An old Indian of indefinite age commented to him - Look Juan, what you saw is a bloodsucker- Juan, did not laugh and asked the woman - What is a bloodsucker? The Indian squatted next to the table , the lights of the lampiones gave phantasmagorical shadows to his Guarani features and he commented: -no one has actually seen him yet and no one who saw him is alive-. Juan stood up and exclaimed, "I saw it fucking and I'm alive." - So, answered the old woman, take care of your belongings, the bloodsucker somehow takes revenge, nobody who has seen it is alive -. Some patrons were playing cards, others were drinking, those who weren't chatting, a group of bartenders who were part of a crew, all fell silent upon hearing the conversation. "Be careful, Juan," the Indian repeated to him, and they all went to sleep in silence, each one with their fears. The next day Juan Secundino and Sergeant Francisco Melo arrived at the place where the incident had taken place the night before, they They did it in a Gendarmerie jeep, they did not get out of the car, which was convertible, Melo had a 45 caliber submachine gun on his lap and remained seated behind the wheel, Juan Secundino stood on the seat, looking at the place when he saw the bloodstains - Look, Compadre, I hit the shot at the bug. He didn't finish saying it when he felt the same smell from the night before, the same fear, and that feeling of fighting, he grabbed the revolver and following the trail of blood, he pointed it at the forest, hurling an insult, he wouldn't have done it. The monster came out of the bush with a roar and saw it more immense than at night, more terrible, half animal, half human, the 357 thundered through the bush and reverberated its impacts in the jungle, Melo managed to fire the submachine gun, the bullets 45 powerful rounds seemed to hit the monster, but they did not stop it, with a single claw it seriously wounded it on the right side of the face, the eyelids, broke the lobe of the nose, the lip and the chin, as if was lightning, he returned to the jungle. Juan stopped shooting, rushed Melo to the passenger seat, started the jeep and took it at a run towards the town. When Juan Secundino arrived at high speed at the Gendarmerie Group yelling – Melo is injured, I'm taking him to the Ward – people ran out to find out about the event. In the First Aid Ward, Dr. Martínez saw the wound and asked - What happened to this one?-, Juan preferred to hide the reason for the injury from the doctor saying - a tiger attacked us, doctor-. The Doctor looked at the wounds again and commented. – If I didn't know you, Juan would say that Melo was injured with a knife or a very sharp razor, the wound is clear, there are no tears, it's a steel edge, not a claw- Juan Secundino shrugged. He left mumbling his anger and impotence. He pondered: - the bug does not die with a bullet. Since I hurt him on the first night,Melo hit him several shots with the submachine gun and this gives me the thorn that he is a bug of the devil and only God defeats the devil. He went to the church, where the young priest was, he asked him for holy water, with which he filled his caramayola. He then went to see the jeweler and asked him how many grams of silver do you need to make me some 357 Magnun bullets, throwing a projectile from the powerful revolver on the table and others for the 22-. Since Juan Secundino was cautious and had a 22 Caliber Rossi revolver as a sidearm, which a compadre who came from Brazil had given him as a gift. He took off the enormous silver tie clip, opened the saddlebags of his mount, took a bulb of the same noble metal, then took out the buckle of his own belt and gave it to the jeweler to melt and make the silver bullets. Meanwhile, in the bush, the bloodsucker leaned against a tree, with his smooth hands on the inside, touching his wounds and lamenting: - I don't die when lead hurts me, but the wounds hurt and mutilate me. Although I am more afraid of the wounds from white weapons that deform my body and the teeth of the dogs. However, everyone fears me, who will be that man who persecutes me and does not fear me? Doesn't he know that my destiny is to kill and run away, run away, always run away. If someone could kill me, I would stop suffering. I don't know what I am, whether beast or human, everyone fears me and ignores me...- Licking his wounds, he fell asleep against the tree. Juan Secundino went to see his compadre Melo and commented to him, - Tomorrow I'm going to see him at the German, it's a full moon and when I return at night, I'll have a final duel with the bloodsucker, it will be him or me. Melo, who could barely speak because of the suture on his lips, told him: -Juan, don't mess with the bug. Do your job and don't come back there-. The morning of July had dawned beautifully, Juan Secundino, as was his custom, saddled the toast, hung the canister with holy water over his shoulder, fully recharged the "Winche", checked under the carona if his machete was there, he put new batteries in the flashlight and loaded the two revolvers, the 357 Magnun, first with three lead bullets, then three silver bullets, then sprayed the ammunition drums with holy water. He did the same with the small twenty-two that he placed in the inside pocket of his jacket, hung the crucifix in plain sight, and mounted the toast. When he was about to leave, the Indian woman told him: -Juan Secundino, no one who saw the bloodsucker is alive, and if he isn't going to take away things you love, don't go to meet him, change your path. But Juan adjusted his hat with the bronze shield of the Brand New Province of Misiones and headed for his fate. The bloodsucker immediately recognized the toasted trot, stood by the road, hidden behind an enormous tree, and Through the red curtain of his blood-red eyes, he saw Juan Secundino by day, he estimated that he was a good man, healthy and strong. Why did he confront him? And he didn't run away like everyone else did. Standing upright on the horse, Juan Secundino sensed the presence of the monster, but feigned indifference, displaying strong courage, he walked past the place, which was already heavily stained with blood. He went to see the German, did his routine, and at night when the moon shone brightly, giving it so much clarity that it seemed to be day, Juan Secundino saddled the toast, greeted the German and his family, setting course for his destination. He would go to meet the bloodsucker. The tan stuck on the trail, snorted in fear and crossed the road, refusing to continue the march, the moon illuminated a man dressed in white, wearing a suit and hat, his face seemed as white as the same moon that dominated the missionary night. He spoke - Why are you persecuting me, Juan?- Juan Secundino's hair stood on end, he gripped the revolver with his right hand, while with his left hand he grabbed the reins. He did not answer, but he felt the nauseating smell, and saw the ember eyes in the white face realizing that the bloodsucker and that specter that spoke to him were the same. As was his custom when he was about to fight, Juan Secundino made the toasted man back About fifteen meters away, the man was still standing there, urged on the horse and shot the first shot with a lead bullet over its neck, the man in white didn't even flinch but the red stain of blood was clearly seen at stomach level, Juan Secundino fired again, the toasted caracole with each shot, going and coming back, the second bullet also hit the target, another red spot higher up and a third. The Man in White laughed wildly, then the ranger fired the first silver bullet into him, chest high, and another, and a third...The man gave a terrifying scream that was heard even by the German who came several kilometers behind Juan Secundino to see the outcome and jumped up like a wounded tiger, but he no longer had a laugh, he stood up and shouting said - I'm dying. Happy Juan Secundino. He mortally wounded the roasted in the neck with a blow of his claw. The noble brute collapsed, with a muffled neigh, Juan Secundino fell unsteady but hesitant, however he did not look much at the wounded monster but rather at the roasted one that was taking its last gasps. The German came trotting on his horse, looked at the painting illuminated by the moon: Juan Secundino embracing the dead horse and next to him the naked body of a man who presented serious mutilations: bullet wounds, stab wounds, dog bites, but a serene face. Pale, so pale, he never looked like he was the bloodsucker. And Juan remembered the Indian, the bloodsucker really brought him such dear things: his brooch, his bombilla, his buckle, dear silver jewels and toast.
Diego Lujan Sartori
Sartori is a lawyer and teacher. He resides in San Vicente. He has published 14 books, including testimonials, poems and short stories. He has participated in more than 20 international, national, provincial and local anthologies. He prepares his new book: Semblanzas.
