Short Stories

How to catch a thief

Mention of Honour, Storytellers contest organized by the Institute of Culture of Peru Embassy of Miami, July 2010. Published in the book "Poets and storytellers of 2010" edition of the Institute of Peruvian Culture.


From the day her parents died in a tragic car accident, Miss Marie retired from her music studies, dressed up in deep mourning clothing and never came back down to visit the town. She was the sole heiress of the vast family fortune, that through several generations, worked the land creating an immense coffee plantation and with great pride, the best cattle hacienda in the region. She never had financial worries or land management problems, because Don Pedro Marin, a very serious and gentle man who had the absolute trust of her parents, agreed to continue to manage her properties effectively and honestly.

Thus, she spent her days reading books from the extensive library created by her grandfather and her father for many years and tirelessly practicing the piano, becoming a virtuoso with an exquisite and extensive repertoire for a concert that the world would never hear. Marcia was her sole company and also the person attending all the house chores during the day, at sun set she retired to her room at the little house that she had been given, about two hundred meters from the main house.


Two or three times a week, she rode around the hacienda or walked along for the well maintain gardens taking the time to talk to the ​​gardener, the old Gregory who had been working for the family for many years, even before she was born, telling her the stories and peccadilloes of her ancestors. With each passing day, she got more attached to the old gardener, who had become his friend and adviser, and the only person with whom she conversed, sometimes even telling him about the intimacies and dreams of a young lady.

So the years passed by, until one day Gregory, defeated by aging and arthritis came with his grandson Robert, a muscular and attractive young man in the prime of youth, announcing her that, as of that day, he would replace him in the gardening tasks. Miss Marie which by then had become a grim and lonely woman felt a deep sorrow of losing his good friend and apprehension and nervousness of a young man who was coming to her home. For a couple of weeks she stopped walking around the gardens.


One hot summer day, when she was in the library, She saw the gardener through the window, who was shirtless, working in her favorite part of the garden, the roses. Taking an old brass telescope that probably belonged to an ancestor with dreams of becoming a sailor; she gazed for a long time to the young gardener, and felt that something new and disturbing wake up inside her. It was a strange feeling she could not explain. Despite being an attractive woman, she never had suitors when she was young and much less now that she had no contact with anyone and remain isolated from the world since she locked herself in the farm. She remembered that her mother when she was alive used to say that she was a young woman of "rare beauty". Now on her forty’s the presence of this young man in her dominions began to arouse passions that she have never had in her life.


That night, Miss Marie could not sleep well. Every now and then she woke up, tormented by erotic dreams that she had never experienced before. Finally, she could only sleep well when, in an almost unconscious manner let her hands go around caressing her body and for the first time in her life and almost by accident, she felt the indelible delight of the solitary pleasures.


The next day, after looking for a very long time to Robert from her bedroom window, she dared to go down to the garden. Standing about four meters she was careful not to disturb him, who was focused on pruning the rose bushes, she looked at the young gardener for a few minutes, then moving closer, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath absorbing the odors emanating from his body. He had the perfume of the earth. A combination of sweat, moss, herbs, flowers and rose wood. Quietly she returned home and spent the rest of the day playing the romantic and passionate melodies of the great masters. As time passed by, Miss Marie added to her routine of reading the classics of literature and practicing the piano, the contemplation of the young gardener from the window of her bedroom.


Until one night, a few months later, at about two o'clock on the morning, she heard the distant barking of dogs at the entrance of the estate. Minutes later, she heard noises inside the house. She sat on the bed and paid close attention and again she felt faint noises in the lounge room. As a mild electrical current running through her body, the fear invaded her paralyzing her body. She tried to scream in vain. The voice would not come out of her throat, she was shaking and a cold sweat flowed copiously from her pores. Breathing deeply, after a few agonizing seconds she managed to recover her courage, rose from the bed and walking gingerly opened the bedroom door heading for the lounge room quietly. Aided by the dim light coming through the windows from the full moon, Marie could see someone moving, taking objects and placing them in a bag. Very distraught, she stepped back, bumping into a table and knocking over a vase.


The person who was there, feeling discovered, looked at her and walked slowly towards her. Suddenly she recognized the smell of sweat, moss, herbs, and flowers and rose wood, and removing the shoulder strips holding her nightgown, dropped it to the ground, standing completely naked. Then extending her hand and reaching down to the thief said quietly: "I've been waiting for you many days Robert, come with me." That night Marie realized that paradise was on earth and filled with happiness she decided it was time to send the mourning dresses of twenty years to the rubbish bin.

Two days later Don Peter Griffith received a short letter from Miss Marie, in which she said that there had been an attempted robbery at the farm and that from that date on Robert's salary was to be tripled because he would live on the farm performing the functions of gardener and security guard.


©Humberto Hincapie

Kariong, Junio 2010

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18.05 | 08:58

Bárbara, lamentablemente no pude leer su comentario porque está incompleto. Gracias, Humberto.

18.05 | 01:17

Mi nombre es Barbara y me baso en Noruega. Mi vida está de vuelta! Después de un año de matrimonio roto, mi marido me dejó con dos hijos. Sentí que mi vida esta

26.03 | 08:54

Felicitaciones Humberto por esta pagina donde nos pones en contacto con tu personalidad y encontramos un momento de esparcimiento y paz al leer tus escritos.

05.09 | 05:21

Un saludo literario, cargado de todo el afecto y admiración que se merece mi primo. Soy tu seguidora y te leo con ahínco, y prisa, soy adicta y tu fans

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