Friday, April 22, 2022

El Viejo Con La Mascara de Tortilla (The Old Man in the Tortilla Mask)

 



Note: this fictional story was inspired by my Father.


CHAPTER ONE

El Viejo wasn't sure what was happening to him, but he knew it wasn't normal or like anything he'd experienced during his long life.

He was mystified and alarmed... but also surprised and grateful!

He'd been out on his property, harvesting the latest crop of wheat he'd grown from seeds gifted to him by an old farmer when he first arrived in the valley. He also grew pinto beans and Hatch chiles for the chile verde burritos he sold from his small shop that were a favorite among the locals and made all the abuelitas jealous.

He even milled the wheat into flour, using an ancient hand-operated stone mortar and pestle he'd found on a long-defunct local farm.

Lately though, he'd been feeling exhausted when he woke in the morning darkness, pulling himself out of bed while his wife snored. He wasn't used to feeling so old... so worn-out... so damned TIRED all the time. 

He sat drinking his first cup of coffee at the small kitchen table and realized he'd have to cut back on the huge amount of work it took to raise the food and run the shop. "What the hell is happening to me?" he thought. "I guess I'm just a worn-out old man... soon I won't even be able to make the tortilla flour."

All of this was running through his mind while he milled some of the wheat grain that morning.

He heard his wife call out to him from the back door of the house for some hot champurrado and fresh pan dulce. He stepped out of the mill shed, looked over and saw... a beautiful long-haired young woman standing there. He blinked his eyes, rubbed them hard and looked again, but she was still there. 

She shouted at him:"Entonces... que estas esperando, una invitacion firmada? Ven a buscar tus bocadillos o se los dare a los perros!" (Translation: "So... what are you waiting for, a signed invitation? Come and get your snacks or I'll give them to the dogs!")

He stared at her, trying to understand what he saw. This beautiful woman with long black hair and fiery Brown eyes was his wife as she looked when he first met her!

He was confused and captivated. He slowly walked up to this amazing creature and stood before her, looking her up and down without words.

Before this vision disappeared, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her with a fervor he hadn't felt in years. For almost 30 seconds they kissed so passionately that when he finally released her, she took a step backwards and sat down heavily on the doorstep, her eyes wide and face flushed.

She looked up at him, standing in front of her with his leathery brown skin and wavy white hair and bristly salt-and-pepper moustache, dressed in his working whites, his hat cocked dangerously low on his forehead... and her eyes grew even wider.

He wolfed down the snacks as he stood there, never taking his eyes off the beautiful young woman, thinking he must be hallucinating or suffering from some kind of mad delusion.

He thanked her, turned and headed back into his milling shed. He didn't look back for fear she would disappear.

His mind reeled. What in the hell had just happened? How could his wife suddenly appear to him as a 16-year-old maiden? Was he losing his mind or having a stroke?

He went back to milling the wheat, his hands on the large wooden handle that turned the old wooden gears which slowly rotated the stone pestle. He was lost in thought, trying to understand the strange vision of his young wife, a woman he'd slept with most of his life!

He raised his eyes to see the morning light streaming through the shed's window, the fine flour dust in the air beautifully illuminated by the sun. He felt honored that his Lord had smiled on him enough to grant him such a beautiful day, a beautiful life... and a newly-beautiful wife, even if he knew her youthful appearance was only a mirage... an illusion... a trick played on his mind.

After he'd milled enough flour, it was time to start a batch of dough to make his daily dozens of fresh tortillas. In only a few hours his small shop would open to a line of patiently-waiting customers.

He emptied the freshly milled flour into a large bowl, picked it up and walked out of the shed... and was stopped by what he saw. The yard between his shed and kitchen, normally filled with chickens, was instead covered by dozens of tiny chicks scurrying around, peeping loudly. 

"None of my chickens has hatched any chicks", he thought to himself, "yet the yard is full of them!" He heard dogs barking and then saw three of them come running from behind the shed... but they were all puppies! They jumped and barked and chased the chicks, with El Viejo standing in the middle of it all, his mouth wide open.

All at once, he was gripped with a fear that he was going insane insane. "NO!", he said to himself out loud. "I'm not insane and I refuse to be insane!" With the large bowl of flour still in his hands, he looked straight ahead, walked into his kitchen and began preparing the tortilla dough.

Several hours had passed since his morning hallucinations, during which he'd made at least six dozen fresh tortillas, opened his shop and sold many burritos. He refreshed the simmering pot of burrito mix consisting of green chiles, potatos and steak, transferred a fresh pot of pinto beans onto the stovetop to begin slowly cooking for the next day, and made a few dozen more tortillas for the customers he knew would soon arrive on their way home from work.

As she did every day, his wife came through the kitchen door behind him with a fresh batch of meat to be cooked down for tomorrow's burrito mix. Without turning around, he felt her arms surrounding his waist and her gentle kiss on the back of his neck. 

"Mi amor", she whispered into his ear, "... parece que tuviste otro gran dia. Estoy muy orgulloso del trabajo que haces, trayendo tanta alegria a nuestra ciudad con tu deliciosa comida!" (Translation: "My love... it looks like you had yet another great day. I'm so proud of the work you do, bringing such joy to our town with your delicious food!")

He turned to embrace her and saw not the 16-year-old apparition, but the wrinkled face and ample figure of his wife of almost fifty years. He looked deeply into her eyes and gently kissed her, closing his eyes with relief that he was no longer hallucinating. It didn't matter that she was old and gray like him, because in his mind's eye she would always be the beautiful young bride of his dreams... the same one he'd seen that very morning!

TO BE CONTINUED...