JORGE, THE TRAGEDY OF THE LIFE OF A BOY WITH CANCER

It was a delightful dawn. As the day went by parsimoniously, the soft morning breeze carried the delicate aromas of that exquisite garden full of lilies, daffodils, hydrangeas and tulips; whose fragrances flooded the atmosphere with elegance, to give a touch of charm to the dawn. It was eight o'clock, the sun was shyly touching a grandiose city. Even before dawn, its inhabitants were ready to start this new day with the same integrity as always. In the solitude of a small room something extraordinary was happening; unique I would say. Those soft hands were subtly caressing a belly that still did not show what was inside it, since a sacred process had just begun. Those tender caresses were felt in the depths of my soul. In the intrauterine darkness that sheltered me, I felt that gesture of love as the greatest blessing of all.

The previous afternoon, the laboratory analysis had revealed the presence of a chemical substance in my mother's body. Mercedes was overjoyed to learn the news, which, although it made her a little nervous, would forever transform her life. Although she had longed for him forever, the fact that she was expecting a child made her feel many mixed feelings; joy, knowing that in a few months the beautiful dream she had had for a long time would come true, and sadness, knowing that there would be very difficult times ahead. Even so, her happiness was insurmountable.

Mercedes looked carefully at her body reflected in a huge mirror. She tried, in vain, to see some change that would denounce her state; that would announce that the miracle of existence was growing within her. She felt nothing, except a small discomfort that she had already felt many times and that at that moment she attributed to her pregnancy; as a subterfuge to spend a lot of time looking at herself naked in the solitary bedroom and to fill me with the beautiful words that I was already hearing, thanks to the special particularity that God has always allowed me.

Mercedes felt very fortunate and, despite the many reproaches she had received for having given herself to a love that had been shamefully cowardly, she clung to her illusion to enjoy intensely that happiness that I, even before I began to form, caused her. Deep in his heart, he felt sorry for someone he had loved and admired so much. Actually, she felt very sorry, because the person she loved so much: my father, could have been feeling, as she did, that enormous happiness.

Before getting ready for her daily life, Mercedes looked at herself again and, smiling, reflected a beautiful shine in her intense black eyes, while she sang a perfect melody for me, which I listened to in ecstasy. She always spoiled me with a congenital charm. It was Monday, and the day was already in full swing. At eight o'clock, the sun warmed timidly while she walked slowly, distracted by the song of the birds that fluttered around her letting out their trills. Everything provoked tenderness in her, she found it too compassionate; my mother felt that everything around her was simply the most beautiful thing in the world.

Mercedes was walking towards her work, her colleagues were already surprised by her delay; it was not very usual for her to be late, since punctuality was one of her great virtues. She was anxious to arrive and tell all the girls the beautiful news; she had no doubt that they would all find it extraordinary. In those people she felt the support that her family had denied her. The largest supermarket in the city had not yet opened its doors. The workers, as they arrived, sat in the vicinity and chatted, still with visible traces of drowsiness on their faces; unmistakable traces of a rest that had been reluctantly interrupted.

My mother's four friends had settled where they did day after day, on one of the benches in the plaza. When she arrived, she immediately joined the group. The man in charge of opening the store was approaching. When they saw him cross the corner, they walked slowly while they continued talking about their business. Meanwhile, Mercedes watched them in silence. In her hand she brandished a small piece of paper, which she moved incessantly to make it noticeable. Her friends looked at her curiously, surprised by her silence, as well as by the paper she was showing off just by moving it in that particular way. Until finally Amaloa broke that silence born of a surprise that was kept hidden.

-Girl, if you don't stop moving that hand so much, it's going to fall off," she said bluntly, not holding her curiosity a second longer.

Mercedes, wearing that flamboyant expression, didn't say a word; she just swung that little piece of paper in her hand.

-I have great news for you, for me, the best news of my life.

Amaloa, Isabel, Erika and Ana looked at her without being able to hide their great curiosity. Desperate to the utmost to know once and for all the contents of that blessed paper, they urged her to tell them whatever was written on it, which was already practically in pieces from so much wobbling. It was Isabel who spoke that time.

-Meche, for charity, what news are you talking about?

They all froze, since Mercedes, when she stopped moving her hand, was ready to show her the form; although it was not necessary for her to do so, her words were more than eloquent.

-I'm pregnant, girls! -he only managed to say.

She had prepared a speech to tell her friends the news, but the words did not flow as she would have liked; a consequence of the great emotion she felt. My mom's friends could not believe what they had heard, but that expression, together with what was written in that wonderful note after the analysis, said it all. They felt happy too, because of Mercedes' confidence. That good news had fallen on all of them like a blessing. That is how I felt it in my incipient life, which was nothing more than a group of cells in full division.

When my mother received the results of that laboratory analysis, my embryonic state was only a few weeks old. I was very tiny, barely five millimeters. I was very attached, clinging to the uterine wall of that great woman, and I was nourished through her. The short time I had been in existence, did not allow me to use any other name than embryo; although my mommy had already had a name prepared for me for a long time: Jorge. Anyway, I had thought of another one in case I would have been a baby girl: Violeta. In this glorious place where I am now, I feel happy to be able to tell the story of my short life, of course with the consent of our creator, who from the very moment of conception allowed me this particular blessing.

Mercedes hurried to her work place in front of the cash register, from there she smiled at everyone. She felt enormously happy, it was evident in the way she acted, her smiles, the sparkle in her eyes and that loquacity that had been there ever since she had arrived, since she never stopped mentioning her pregnancy for an instant. That beautiful lady was happy, she had to be, since she knew that soon she would see her dream come true. The main topic of her conversations revolved around me, the food I had to eat to ensure my proper formation, the visits to the doctor, the trousseau I would have to buy and many other things that are always taken into account in these cases. I would have to look after the health of both of us. That was what he kept saying. She literally kept to it. Since she found out she was pregnant, she gave up her longed-for chocolates and ice cream; she considered that there was someone in her life who deserved that great sacrifice. She would not put on too much weight and, by the way, she would save a little money that she would need later on.

God had worked a miracle in me. Since the beginning of my training, the prodigy of intelligence emerged in an unusual way. I was able to feel, hear, see and even reflect immediately. The Lord allowed me that exceptional ability, as I have already expressed, to fulfill a more than special, necessary mission; to be the voice of those who have suffered the fences of a painful illness. Therefore, I can tell you everything that has happened to me since I was just an embryo.

The hours went by lightly. Mercedes went about her routine smoothly, eager for her shift to end quickly so that she could devote herself completely to me. I always felt her motherly love, her total fascination for what was going on inside her; that pregnancy that was going perfectly thanks to the care she took with her health and, of course, with mine. She felt at every moment, a love that was not measuring weeks of development or centimeters in size. It was a love that was felt and nothing more.

That night my mother received a phone call. She had been waiting for it all day. She thought they were not going to call her; it was almost ten o'clock. She was overjoyed, as she needed a satisfactory answer about a house she had wanted to rent. Unfortunately, the call did not bring him the good news. No such negotiation would be possible, the landlord informed him. She had always lived in her parents' house, but things had changed. At that point in my mommy's life, everything was already different and it was going to be even more so when her mother found out about the pregnancy. That was why she wanted to rent the house, claiming an independence that, according to her, she needed; but no one ever believed her. She wanted to move out, as it were, preventively, before my existence was discovered and the commotion broke out, especially that of my grandmother.

Since Hannibal, the man who contributed his genes for my procreation, came into my mommy's life, something did not please my grandmother. It was undoubtedly a cruel stigmatization felt towards him, since he had an enormous amount of incomprehensible figures marked with indelible ink on his skin; tattoos to say the least. She constantly said that with so many painted figures he resembled a thug. No one who deigns to be a good person, walks around all painted; my old lady repeated incessantly. That was one of the many reasons why I moved away. I never justified it, but if it is true that my father behaved cowardly in a situation provoked between two; it is no less true that my grandmother's mania of seeing ghosts where there were none, helped a lot so that the separation was more precipitated than it should have been. My father had many defects, but he was never a delinquent.

Mercedes and Aníbal met by chance. It was during a night when he had just been born. She was coming out of the car market at the same time he was passing in front of the store. They looked at each other instinctively. He intensified his gaze and she avoided it, trying not to look so bold. The young man was immediately captivated, Mercedes' silhouette had been fixed in his mind. He thought of her constantly, he wanted to see her again since the fascination of her beauty was insurmountable; there were many reasons for that portentous reaction.

Mercedes was beautiful and had a radiant gaze, besides her natural charm was fascinating; her gait was finely delicate. Her hair was intensely black and fell gracefully over her white shoulders. And what to say about her mouth, her white teeth were outlined by a shiny thread, which she constantly caressed with the tip of her tongue. Her subtle lips were a delicate crimson. Her face reflected a perfect beauty. She had that countenance, a supreme whiteness; the candor that is the exclusive patrimony of very fine complexions. Her magic eyes were a perfect black. Perhaps a little separated, which gave her, under a shining forehead, an air of great nobility. When Hannibal had felt them stopped for a moment before his own, he was simply hallucinated.

She, when looking at him, avoided that look, but she did it out of pure nervousness; because of the obfuscation that the handsome man with whom she almost collided at the exit of her work had made her feel. Mercedes was immediately charmed by the mischievous mythological god of romantic desire; Cupid. She wished with all her heart to see that man again, and from that day on, when she went out, she tried to spend a long time in the vicinity of the place with the only intention of "casually" running into that guy she had liked so much. Hannibal thought the same, so it didn't take long for the moment that both of them, without knowing it, had forged to happen.

It was very unsettling the day Hannibal walked diligently into the supermarket. He seemed a bit nervous, his countenance was unsettled. His intention to buy anything was paramount, although he himself did not believe the story that he needed to buy anything. What's more, he wasn't even looking at any particular product. He was just staring into the distance, as if looking for someone specific. He was sweating profusely, an unmistakable sign of his unconcealed nervousness. She had spotted him as soon as he had entered the store. She had already been subjected to several minor corrections, for being more attentive to the entrance than to the customers who were canceling their purchases. For that reason she noticed his arrival. He thought it had been worth all the waiting and all the reprimands. He didn't notice her right away. He walked parsimoniously through the long aisles and as he entered the detergent area, a sudden allergy got him out of control.

His sneezing was immediate, as soon as he had entered that place of exaggerated fragrances. Those exhalations were so extreme and constant that his breathing was ineffective; the sensation of suffocation was leading him to collapse. Mercedes offered to help the already desperate gallant. She urged him to leave the aisle and move to the outside, exactly to the square just in front of the store, in order to get some fresh air. He was given a moment's permission to accompany him. They did not waste that ephemeral moment that came in a very opportune way, almost on purpose.

They exchanged phone numbers immediately. They had only had enough time to do so, but that had been more than enough. After that mischievous reciprocity, Meche's immediate boss, "La mandamás" as they used to call her, called her attention to continue with her routine at the cash register. That same night he called her. She was burning with the desire to call him, but she played hard to avoid misunderstandings. As soon as the phone rang, she immediately took the call. Her silence was evident, he took that emptiness as a prodigious sign. As soon as he heard the voice of the man of her dreams, his eyes lit up to such an extent that the great glow reached him. Mercedes settled down on the bed and they chatted for a long time. She never imagined that this chance encounter would go so far.

I remember clearly those conversations I had with my mother, when I was in the process of development. As I was developing, I talked to her in my very particular way of communicating. I made her feel everything that was going on with me, all my great excitement and longing for life. I constantly told her how much I already loved her. She also listened to me in a very particular way. "Mommy, I'm already in my eighth week of development. I am still a long way from feeling my presence. My features are still developing, I can see that perfectly well. I have noticed that my eyes, ears and my big heart that adores you have already formed. Ah, my hands and feet are also forming. My brain continues to develop and my bone tissue is consolidating. It is amazing how quickly I begin to transform into the tiny little body that will begin to grow, so that soon I can come out of you and give you all my love."

It comes to my mind in a timely manner, the night when Hannibal visited my grandparents' house. I was able to contemplate that peculiar event by the work and grace of the great power of the Creator, since I was still waiting for the opportune moment for the sacred blessing of transforming me into a child to begin; at that moment I was an angel of the glory of God. That night Mercedes was very nervous, she was sweating profusely and feared that her heart would play a bad trick on her and give away all those feelings that made her obfuscate.

The meeting took place and Aníbal, converted by his nervousness into the most clumsy being of all, got entangled with his speech; nothing of what he expressed was understood. It was only a babble that came from that man who was sweating because he was so frightened. My grandmother Mervin was about to lose patience with the endless incongruities that the boy was uttering, but at that precise moment Mercedes intervened and made him relax, handing him a glass of ice cold water that he immediately drank with excessive eagerness. Once he calmed down, he very kindly introduced himself to everyone and they began a long conversation, which was very pleasant.

With time came the disagreements between my grandfather Raul and my grandmother Mervin, who argued daily, because while one liked Aníbal and thought he was a good boy, the other had a bad feeling about the enormous amount of tattoos he had, which she did not agree with at all. Her daughter was not going to have anything to do with that "bad boy". That's what my grandmother used to say. Just because he had some tattoos, she labeled him with that pejorative term, without giving him a chance to understand otherwise. That fact undermined the foundations of a relationship that could have been perfect, as Mercedes thought. They began to see each other secretly everywhere, as if it were a sin to love each other. As time went by, due to so many arguments at home, she began to move away, as Aníbal had done too, and so, just like that, that incandescent fire was extinguished. At least the seed had been deposited and was growing slowly but surely. "Mercedes, I am very excited because I have already reached my tenth week inside you and I am growing very fast and healthy. You could already say that I am a fetus, so good; I have taken a big step. I am about seven centimeters tall. You can already see my eyelids, my ears and my face”.

One day Mercedes ran into Aníbal by pure chance and confronted him. The gentleman had not given her, as was logical, a convincing explanation for his abrupt and unfounded abandonment. It was not her fault that his mother had treated him so contemptuously. She never agreed with that exaggerated stigmatization, with that obsolete way of thinking. On the contrary, the many arguments they had were exasperated, precisely because they wanted to defend a love that could have gone down in history as the most beautiful of all.

My father behaved like a coward, running away at the first opportunity. Mercedes could not believe it, she had fallen in love with him with all her strength; she had given him her purity. Yes, although it seemed a lie, she kept her virginity even though she was already twenty-five years old. She gambled everything for that love and he simply said: "If I have seen you... I don't remember". He cowardly mocked her. He was not able to face my grandmother and show her the opposite of what she thought of him. He preferred the shortest and most comfortable way perhaps. That cowardly decision made Mercedes, who still did not know that something was happening inside her, suffer too much.

My grandmother, when she found out that they were still seeing each other secretly, confronted her daughter and complained about her behavior. In a hasty and unconsulted manner, she threw her out of the house without measuring the consequences that this could entail. Mercedes tried to seek refuge in her father, but he, being a man who could be manipulated by his wife, and by virtue of the fact that the decision had already been irrevocably made, did nothing more than second it. Both turned their backs on that woman who only followed the impulses of her heart. She decided to leave, she had no other choice.

For love she was willing to do anything for that man, but her great sacrifice was in vain; she had no choice but to face life alone. She went to the house of Erika, one of her co-workers; she thought it would only be for a few days. She speculated that he would look for her, to solve that mess together in the name of love. A few days passed and she continued to wait for him, believing in a repentance that never came. After a month, again by chance, she met him; by then Mercedes knew of my existence. She let him know and it was as if it was nothing; as if what I was telling him was not with him. He showed himself as he was; a scoundrel with all his letters.

"Mommy, I've already entered the second trimester of this long wait. My head has already grown too big. It's huge in relation to the size of the rest of my body. My little things are forming, they are already showing; I already know I am Jorge, my face is already formed. My face is already formed. Who am I going to look like? Aníbal for sure, because that's how these things are. Well, what counts is that I'm already taking big steps, and I'm growing strong and healthy; that's how I feel, Mommy”.

My mother did not have a good time after that deception. She lived at her friends' houses for a long time; but she only spent a few days at each house, since they, except for Amaloa, also lived with their parents and for that reason it was not up to them to offer them lodging for a longer period of time. So that night she was excited, because she was going to get an answer regarding the room that someone had agreed to rent her. For the time being, a simple bedroom with all its essential comforts would be more than enough; she had no ambition for anything more. In fact, he would have preferred a small house with two bedrooms and a bathroom, in addition to the living room, dining room and a laundry room where he could hold a small gathering of friends on occasion.

The answer given did not turn out to be what she was looking forward to with much enthusiasm. The payment requested for the rental fee had turned out to be too high, so the negotiation could not be completed, even though it was very urgent for her to find a cozy place to spend the night in Santa Paz. She had to wait a few months to be able to find a place where she could live independently, without feeling that she was bothering anyone and, of course, without anyone bothering her existence; she wanted to live very quietly. Weeks went by and he could not find a place adequate to his income, all the rooms exceeded his ability to pay.

Finally, after a little help from an acquaintance, he was able to find a small house that would suit his requirements and, above all, his meager economy. The negotiation took place immediately. After thanking her friend for her hospitality, she left in haste. She asked for permission at work that day to move her things, which, although not many, were too heavy for her to do alone. Finally, with the help of Ramiro, a faithful and cooperative neighbor, she took her belongings, which were nothing more than her bed, a showcase, a one-burner electric stove and several items of her daily life; some cabinets and other small things such as clothes and cosmetics.

This was how her new destination became a reality. She had found shelter, a place where she could give free rein to her illusion of being a mother-to-be. And she had been extremely happy to boast of her "mother-to-be" status. She did not mind the unhealthy comments of those who criticized the fact that she had become pregnant without being married. The only important thing in that moment of limitations and loneliness was only me. She spent the hours after work, incessantly engaged in conversation with me. I say this because even when she slept she did it; that is to say, she dreamed of me. I would receive her tender and loving words with great affection.

"I'm long past twenty weeks, Mommy. By now, I am about eighteen centimeters long and weigh about two hundred grams. My bones have become harder, I can feel it when I touch myself. I can no longer feel the soft tissue I felt before. A very fine hair has begun to appear on my skin; lanugo, as the experts say. Mommy, I can hear, I have begun to listen. Although I have always felt your words thanks to the magic of love, at this moment I can hear, materially speaking. I move more actively, so I think you can already feel my movements. I was not wrong, tonight you screamed out of pure excitement when you felt my first little kick."

There were times when I noticed Mercedes was very quiet, her sadness was very evident; she had become isolated from her family. She was constantly thinking about my grandmother. She was saddened to remember that she had been too intransigent, she had behaved with an arrogance never felt in her before. It hurt her that she had withdrawn her speech, besides having treated her with extreme indifference. Unfortunately, my grandmother stopped speaking to him as if she had committed the gravest of sins, just because she had fallen in love and had become pregnant. My grandfather said nothing, only seconded my grandmother quietly, with a cold gesture on his face.

My mother was also thinking about Hannibal, the only man she had ever loved. I wished from the bottom of my little heart that I could forget him soon. It made me very angry, even though it was sinful for me to feel that dark feeling while I was in that sacred place, my mother's womb; but feeling that she was suffering in that way for the man who had hurt her so much, even though he was my father, I could not help it. I thought of the carelessness of someone who did not know how to appreciate a great love like the one my mommy gave. Besides, that so corrupted I felt, it was also because of the attitude of my grandparents. I did it when I realized that her most beloved ones had turned their backs on her, knowing that she was pregnant. They could not imagine the harm they were doing to their daughter and therefore, to me.

My mommy's sadness was, one could say, insurmountable. I wanted to get out of her womb and come to life immediately, to be by her side so that she would not feel so alone. I knew it wasn't possible yet, but it was what I wanted most in that incipient life I possessed. Sadness had always been present in Mercedes. Ever since she was a lonely child, without siblings or friends. She played locked up in her bedroom because of her mother's prejudices against half the world. Not even at school did she have any friendships, they were only fleeting companions that dissipated when class ended and she had to go home again.

Loneliness was always his company. That is why, from the corner of God's glory that I occupied when I was a little angel, I watched Mercedes struggle daily with her loneliness and the sadness it caused her. She lived a monotonous and languid existence. Her soliloquies were permanent, that alone made her feel alive. I looked at her and feeling her sadness, I could not help but suffer as well. Her grief disturbed my peace of mind. At that time I was a naughty little angel looking at a being filled with so much loneliness and so much sadness.

There was never a fantasy story that someone read to her and made her sleep. She would go into her room as soon as the night dawned and once she was settled there, she felt crushed by the most merciless loneliness. From my corner in the glory of God, I felt her sadness. I dared to ask the Lord to let me get close to her, and so it happened. From that moment on, I was her guardian angel. From heaven I watched over her steps. I watched over her as no one else had ever done. I was always by her side, although she did not realize it. She felt that there was something watching over her; but she never imagined that it was her angel.

On very sporadic occasions Mercedes and her parents traveled to Buenaventura, a very picturesque place located in the heart of the mountains. A lavish town with an attractive climate. It was approximately four hours away from where she lived, at a moderate speed. Its houses were beautiful, like something out of a magical fairy tale. Houses built a long t