Reciban mis saludos, amigos que participan en la iniciativa de @hispaliterario en su Reto Literario No. 20 con la temática ¡Madres! Invito a @lilianajimenez y @ramisey a participar.

Coa se enteró que sería madre de nuevo, el día que se antojó de comer quinchonchos con ñame, como los hacía su abuela. Se llamaba Cointa, pero siempre le habían dicho Coa; con ocho hijos previos, dos pares de gemelos y dos abortos, no quería más embarazos, pero había llegado Julián al pueblo y ella no estaba como para resistirse.

Comenzó a brincar la cuerda hasta que se le encalambraron las piernas, la barriga crecía, dejó de tomar canela con malta; le tocó aceptar lo inevitable, y con su lengua alborotada de siempre, responder groseramente a quien se atreviera a decirle algo, volvería a parir «¿y qué?».

Esta vez le toco ir al hospital, no pudo parir en la casa. El muchacho venía sentado, dijeron. Nació rojo como un ají chirel, y la madre quedó maltrecha por muchos días. Reinaldo muy pronto se puso robusto y Coa más flaca que una vela. Este agarraba el pezón y dando cabezazos lo estiraba como un chicle para soltarlo de nuevo. «Este me va a sacar canas verdes», se repetía Coa.

La tía Esmeralda fue a saber de ellos y esa madre le puso al niño en los brazos y se volteó diciendo: «Llévatelo, no lo quiero». «Los niños no se reparten como a los perros», le recriminó la tía, pero ella se declaró en quiebra: «estoy seca».

Reinaldo creció lejos de Coa, nadie le aclaró su origen, era estudioso a diferencia de sus dos hermanos mayores, que aborrecieron los estudios, una vez terminado el sexto grado, para dedicarse al trabajo. Quiso ir a la universidad y fue allí cuando se enfrentó a sus documentos verdaderos, donde el nombre Esmeralda no aparecía por ninguna parte.

¿Cómo ha podido quereme si no era su propio hijo? Se preguntaba, la curiosidad por conocer su origen se le volvió una preocupación.

Un día conoció a su verdadera madre, «ella es Cointa León», escuchó. Una mujer muy flaca y como forrada en hojas de tabaco se le acercó a tocarlo, él la rechazó en en el acto con terror, gritó y lanzó manotazos en la cama; se sentó rápidamente y comprendió que estaba en la habitación de descanso en el hospital donde trabajaba. Era la misma pesadilla que recordaba de niño.

Iba a cumplir 54 años, era neurocirujano, tenía su propia familia. Esmeralda acababa de morir, ella le dio estudios y una vida buena, quizá era el momento de que su cerebro dejara de buscar en las cajas de lo inexistente, lo que sus pesadillas ya le habían mostrado muchas veces.

Gracias por tu amable lectura

Greetings, friends participating in the initiative of @hispaliterario in its Literary Challenge No. 20 with the theme Mothers! I invite @lilianajimenez and @ramisey to participate.

Coa found out she was going to be a mother again, the day she felt like eating quinchonchos with yams, like her grandmother used to make them. Her name was Cointa, but she had always been called Coa; with eight previous children, two sets of twins and two miscarriages, she didn't want any more pregnancies, but Julian had arrived in town and she wasn't ready to resist.

She began to jump rope until her legs cramped, her belly grew, she stopped drinking cinnamon with malt; it was up to her to accept the inevitable, and with her usual rambunctious tongue, respond rudely to whoever dared to say something to her, she would give birth again "so what?".

This time she had to go to the hospital, she could not give birth at home. The boy came sitting down, they said. He was born as red as a chili bell pepper, and the mother was battered for many days. Reinaldo soon became robust and Coa was skinnier than a candle. He grabbed the nipple and headbutted it and stretched it like chewing gum to release it again. "This one is going to give me green hair," Coa repeated to herself.

Aunt Esmeralda went to see them and that mother put the child in her arms and turned around saying: "Take him away, I don't want him". "Children are not handed out like dogs", the aunt reproached her, but she declared bankruptcy: "I'm dry".

Reinaldo grew up far from Coa, nobody made his origin clear to him, he was studious unlike his two older brothers, who abhorred studies, once they finished the sixth grade, to dedicate themselves to work. He wanted to go to college and it was there when he was confronted with his real documents, where the name Esmeralda did not appear anywhere.

How could she have loved me if I wasn't her own child? He wondered, the curiosity to know his origin became a concern.

One day he met his real mother, "she is Cointa Leon," he heard. A very skinny woman covered in tobacco leaves approached him to touch him, he rejected her on the spot in terror, screamed and threw his hands on the bed; he sat up quickly and realized that he was in the rest room at the hospital where he worked. It was the same nightmare he remembered as a child.

He was going to be 54 years old, he was a neurosurgeon, he had his own family. Esmeralda had just died, she gave him studies and a good life, maybe it was time for his brain to stop searching in the boxes of the non-existent, what his nightmares had already shown him many times.

Thank you for your kind reading

My content is original

I used the translator DeepL

The images were taken from Pixabay with their respective source.