The Liar - Creative Nonfiction [ENG -ESP]
I always loved the adventure of connecting with nature. The high mountains, the forests, the beaches, and the silent hills were part of my favorite outdoor activities. I learned from those gatherings to be cautious and take everything I needed, however, even if you are the most careful person in the world, there will always come situations in an insidious way that can ruin your plans.
That week, I met new adventure friends. They came from out of town and stayed at my friend Roger's house planning to venture into the mountains to camp there and fish in the surrounding lagoon. Benito, Josue, and Jairo were quite friendly, they had distinct and unique personalities from each other.
Benito was the oldest of them all, a very spiritual man and a believer in the mystical forces of nature. He spoke in such a confident and fanciful way that we were all involved, especially my friend Roger, who was easily fascinated by such wonderful stories of legends about mythological creatures.
Josué was the middle one in age, smiling and with a spirit of adventure; although huge, he was calmer and slower to speak. He had as much charisma as Benito, but he expressed it more calmly. He was a compassionate and intelligent boy, but less talkative and with a great serene charisma.
And lastly, there was Jairo; the one who never gave Benito and me a good feeling. Jairo was the youngest of them all and always spoke to make you like him. He could gain your trust by doing simple things like cleaning the apartment and washing the dishes, all to get you to fall into his confidence game so he could ask you for favors later.
Benito, behind Jairo's back, would jokingly warn us about the very false personality of our supposed affair partner.
“That boy thinks I was born yesterday, he's like all Zulianos; they like to talk to impress,” Benito said, as he laughed and stretched out on the bed.
“Yes, that's true, but he's not a bad person,” I replied defending Jairo. “What we have to do is not pay much attention to him and laugh at his implausible things.”
Benito nodded, as did Josué, who didn't care about Jairo's fake personality. Roger, on the other hand, looked at us as if he didn't understand anything and omitted to say anything.
We stayed three days in my friend's apartment. Roger always treated his guests as part of the family, and the rest of us behaved very well. We kept the living room and bedrooms clean and tidy. We took turns washing the dishes. We made up our beds and made a market for everyone. The first day everything was great, but we were beginning to notice an unfriendly attitude from Jairo.
When asked about his past, Jairo would laugh uncomfortably and try to evade the topic by forcefully covering it with another one.
“Come on, Jairo, tell us, what do you do back in Maracaibo?” Benito would ask Jairo.
“Well, I work in a cafeteria, well,” Jairo replied, almost whispering.
“Well, normal, why so much mystery every time we ask you?” I inquired, expecting an excuse seasoned with suspicious body language, but Jairo just shrugged his shoulders and did not give us a concrete answer.
Benito at that instant watched me out of the corner of his eye, with that look that detected suspicion and lack of trust in someone, telling me to be careful with Jairo. One night, he approached me alone after dinner and spoke to me very intimately in whispers to keep everyone from overhearing.
“I don't trust this boy very much,” Benito said, referring to Jairo. “His attitude is very strange, he seems bipolar.”
“Me neither, and if I'm honest with you, I don't want to go camping with him.” I clarified a little scared.
“Let's go check his phone after he goes to sleep,” he blurted out without a hint of a hint, shining the confidence Benito had in me.
I didn't agree at first, since, if we were discovered, we might even get into trouble, but I nodded at Benito's idea and we waited for the right moment to execute the plan.
It was two in the morning, and everyone was asleep, including me. Suddenly, Benito woke me up and, with just a couple of gestures, indicated that he had Jairo's phone in his hand. Fortunately, he didn't have a password, so we immediately went to the messaging apps. The first conversation we opened turned out to be from Jairo's sister, which revealed disturbing things.
We discovered that our suspicious friend was in trouble with the Maracaibo police for selling illicit substances and that he was also doing the same in our city. Shocked, we decided to keep quiet and not reveal anything until dawn.
Before Jairo got up, Benito and I told Roger and Josué everything. Both were stunned, as were we. When Jairo finally woke up, we all confronted him and Roger threw him out of the house, not only for not being honest with us but for risking getting us into terrible trouble with the local police.
Jairo tried to defend himself with excuses that we squashed with our responses and indifferent, judgmental looks until our ex-camping companion finally relented and left Roger's apartment. We all took a breath of relief after that. We had done the right thing in getting Jairo out of our lives. Who knows what would have happened to us because of him.
THE END
EL MENTIROSO
Siempre me gustó la aventura de conectarme con la naturaleza. Las montañas altas, los bosques, las playas, los cerros silenciosos, todo era parte de mis actividades favoritas al aire libre. Aprendí en esas quedadas ser precavido y llevar todo lo necesario, sin embargo, aunque seas la persona más cuidadosa del mundo, siempre llegarán situaciones de manera insidiosa que pueden arruinar tus planes.
Esa semana, conocí a nuevos amigos de aventura. Venían de otra ciudad y se quedaron en casa de mi amigo Roger en plan de aventurarse en la montaña para acampar allí y pescar en la laguna circundante. Benito, Josué y Jairo eran bastante amigables, tenían personalidades distintas y singulares entre sí.
Benito era el mayor de todos, un hombre muy espiritual y creyente en las fuerzas místicas de la naturaleza. Hablaba de una manera tan confiada y fantasiosa que a todos nos envolvía, especialmente a mi amigo Roger, quien se fascinaba fácilmente con esas historias tan maravillosas de leyendas sobre criaturas mitológicas.
Josué era el del medio en edad, más sonriente y con un espíritu de aventura; aunque enorme, era más tranquilo y pausado al hablar. Tenía tanto carisma como Benito, pero lo expresaba de una manera más calmada. Era un chico muy sensible e inteligente, pero menos conversador y con un gran carisma sereno.
Y, por último, estaba Jairo; el que nunca nos dio buena espina a Benito y a mí. Jairo era el menor de todos y siempre hablaba con la intención de caerte bien. Tenía la habilidad de ganar tu confianza haciendo cosas simples como limpiar el apartamento y lavar los trastes, todo con la intención de que cayeras en su juego de confianza para pedirte favores después.
Benito, a espaldas de Jairo, nos advertía en tono de broma sobre la personalidad tan falsa de nuestro supuesto compañero de aventura.
“Ese chico cree que yo nací ayer, él es como todos los zulianos; les gusta hablar para impresionar,” Decía Benito, mientras reía y se estiraba sobre la cama.
“Sí, eso es cierto, pero no es mala persona,” replicaba defendiendo a Jairo. “Lo que tenemos que hacer es no prestarle mucha atención y reírnos de sus cosas inverosímiles.”
Benito asintió, al igual que Josué, quien le daba igual la personalidad falsa de Jairo. Roger, por otro lado, nos miraba como si no entendiera nada y omitió decir alguna opinión.
Nos quedamos tres días en el apartamento de mi amigo. Roger siempre trataba a sus invitados como parte de la familia, y el resto de nosotros nos comportamos muy bien. Manteníamos la sala y los cuartos limpios y ordenados. Nos turnábamos para lavar los trastes. Acomodábamos nuestras camas y hacíamos mercado para todos. El primer día todo era genial, pero empezábamos a notar una actitud poco amigable por parte de Jairo.
Cuando se le preguntaba por su pasado, Jairo se reía incómodamente y trataba de evadir el tema cubriéndolo con otro de manera forzosa.
“Vamos, Jairo, cuéntanos, ¿qué haces allá en Maracaibo?” Preguntaba Benito a Jairo.
“Bueno, trabajo en una cafetería, pues,” Contestó Jairo, casi susurrando.
“Bueno, normal, ¿por qué tanto misterio cada vez que te preguntamos?” Inquirí, esperando una excusa aderezada con un lenguaje corporal sospechoso, pero Jairo solo encogió los hombros y no nos dio una respuesta concreta.
Benito en ese instante me observó de soslayo, con esa mirada que detectaba la sospecha y la falta de confianza en alguien, diciéndome que tuviera cuidado con Jairo. Una noche, se acercó a mí a solas después de la cena y me habló de manera muy íntima con susurros para evitar que todos escucharan.
“No confío mucho en este chico,” Decía Benito refiriéndose a Jairo. “Su actitud es muy rara, parece bipolar.”
“Yo tampoco, y si te soy sincero, no quiero ir a acampar con él.” Le aclaré un poco asustado.
“Vamos a revisarle el teléfono después de que se duerma,” soltó sin ningún tapujo, reluciendo la confianza que Benito tenía en mí.
Yo no estaba de acuerdo al principio, puesto que, si nos descubrían, podríamos hasta meternos en un problema, pero asentí ante la idea de Benito y esperamos el momento indicado para ejecutar el plan.
Eran las dos de la mañana, todos estaban dormidos, incluyéndome. De repente, Benito me despertó y, con solo un par de gestos, me indicó que tenía el teléfono de Jairo en su mano. Afortunadamente, no tenía contraseña, así que nos dirigimos inmediatamente a las aplicaciones de mensajes. La primera conversación que abrimos resultó ser de la hermana de Jairo, la cual revelaba cosas inquietantes.
Descubrimos que nuestro sospechoso amigo tenía problemas con la policía de Maracaibo por vender sustancias ilícitas, y que también hacía lo mismo en nuestra ciudad. Impactados, decidimos guardar silencio y no revelar nada hasta que llegara el amanecer.
Antes de que Jairo se levantara, Benito y yo le contamos todo a Roger y a Josué. Ambos quedaron atónitos, igual que nosotros. Cuando Jairo finalmente despertó, lo confrontamos entre todos y Roger lo echó de la casa, no solo por no haber sido sincero con nosotros, sino por arriesgarnos a meternos en un terrible problema con la policía local.
Jairo trató de defenderse con excusas que aplastamos con nuestras respuestas y miradas indiferentes y enjuiciadoras, hasta que nuestro excompañero de acampada finalmente cedió y se fue del apartamento de Roger. Todos nos tomamos un respiro de alivio después de eso. Habíamos hecho lo correcto en sacar a Jairo de nuestras vidas. Quien sabe qué nos hubiese pasado por su culpa.
Jairo must really hate you guys for throwing him out especially you and Benito for going through his phone. I know you guys save the rest of the people in your company but that was someone's privacy you invaded. Hold on, this is nonfiction; What happened to Jairo? Did any of you hear from him again?
We had to, he was too unreliable a person to accompany us on a camping trip on a lonely mountain.
The last we heard from Jairo, he left the country as a backpacker and made it as far as Peru, but that's about it.
I completely understand
Your hunch proved to be correct! What an interesting situation. You were very lucky to have figured out that he was not a person to be trusted. Thank you for sharing your story in The Ink Well, and for reading and commenting on the work of other community members.
From that day on I learned to give reason to my senses. Thanks for the comment and support.
You really have to be very careful with people we just meet, we don't know about their past. Luckily you discovered that the boy was not a good person.
Thanks for sharing your experience with us.
Good day.
Totally agree with you, my friend. My senses became acute after that. Thanks for reading comment.