MEDAL
fresh morning and ended that winter that filled me with nostalgia. My watch marked a quarter to seven in five minutes to get to the train station and went his way until seven o'clock, not in a hurry and walked more slowly. The streets of the development of the people were lonely, from time to time only some car left the garage to march on the road to Madrid, about 50 miles distant. Wrapped in my coat, I looked the whitewashed houses jutting above the encircling walls, most of them covered or Arizona cypress hedges to protect the privacy of its inhabitants. I liked the mountain village where John and I had bought a small house when we decided to get married. It was quiet and pretty, very pretty, surrounded by the Andes mountain range whose peaks could be seen completely white in winter because of snow, offering a much desired peaceful moments after the daily bustle of a big capital.
Arriving at the station guard me in the waiting room and sat on the uncomfortable iron bench as he approached the hour of departure of the train that took me to Madrid. It was my daily trip to my work address. Juan came half an hour before me and picked up the car he used in his profession, we planned our lives and relatively happy marriage.
The time it took the train to reach the capital, was a relaxing time spent on giving free rein to my thoughts. That morning, did not know why I was sad, melancholy, memories of times past, had taken possession of me.
accommodated in the window seat, my mind began to dwell on the past and figure Arthur Crisp appeared insistent with his mischievous grin. We dated for two years, during two happy years ended sadly. His image appeared to me as if he were present, smiling, young, sweet, always positive, expected much from life, never thought anything negative to him, everything had a nice solution.
Instinctively my fingers stroked the gold medal hanging around my neck. Gave me when we formalized our relationship, we would get married next year, so we decided, but that never came. One day, he appeared downcast, sad eyes and told me that his company had gone bankrupt, remained without work and without compensation of any kind. Arturo had no family, lived alone and kept to his hard-won career after leaving a state school for young people without resources. But he was a fighter and an optimist, yes. However, the economic situation was very bad and unemployment increased daily while businesses closed their doors. The months went by without getting a job and was doomed to seek help from social charities.
At that same time, fate put John on my way. I presented some office mates and got along. It was a serious man, not a boy, almost ten years older than me, me I felt protected from the very beginning and love of Arthur began to decrease almost without being conscious.
Throughout my life I had often wondered if love so nice that vanished because of the negative economic materialism and that made me feel selfish because something inside me answered affirmatively. But at the same time, the justification for changing the character of Arthur, came to my aid. So compelling that joy, became, little by little, a sadness that I was harrowed, and I began to feel unhappy at his side. No longer laughing, he was forced to sell his car to survive and began despair. We could not go to the movies, or dinner, or to travel on Sunday near Madrid because he did not allow me to take charge of their spending until, one afternoon, after that John was invited to spend a weekend in his company, I decided to break our relationship. He said nothing, not angry, I asked for explanations, I just looked intently into his eyes and saw his own beautifully brown, a gulf of sad disappointment.
Since then he had seen him and had already spent a few long years. That spring will meet the fourth anniversary of my marriage to John. The warning beep to close the doors of the train I turned wing reality. We had already spent a few seasons and I saw the figure of a man who, at that time, had boarded the train. Something familiar from its appearance prompted me to notice him and my heart sank. No doubt, it was Arthur. Thinner, a bit scruffy and unshaven, unshaven. Very seriously, I felt nervous, shifty eyes, observed on either side from the platform of the car and suddenly I saw was addressing violence against passengers. In his hand, shone a knife and demanded of them, threatening him everything of value handed carry, phones, jewelry, watches was talking in a bag. To reach me, I offered the medal snatched from my hand, looked at me and I read face the astonishment of the meeting. He paused for a moment undecided, I saw him turn red and his eyes filled with horror and shame. He threw the medal on my lap and ran away into another car, the reviewer was fast approaching in the company of a couple of security guards with the gun in his hand.
The train came to a station but the doors remained closed until it was completely stopped. I looked out the window and saw him go down to the platform jump and run at the same time heard a shot and fell to the ground with a strange gesture. It struck me as someone friendly, I would have slapped too hard on the back. The
security guards and the conductor came running while the phone in his hand made a call. Before the train back to close their doors and continue to its destination, I saw one of the guards approached his fallen body on the pavement of the platform. Made a negative motion with her head and people swirling slowly to see what was happening, were brought before me. The train moved off and continued to travel while I stood, again, the medal around his neck. Stroked it with my fingers while a tear fell on the image of that adorned her virgin. MAGDA
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