No Oyes Ladrar Los Perros
Juan Rulfo
-Hey you up there, Ignacio, tell me if you can not hear a signal of something or see some light somewhere.
-Nothing can be seen
-We should be close already
-Yes, but nothing can be heard.
-Look well
-I can’t see anything
-Poor you, Ignacio.
The long dark shadow of the men continued moving up and down, tripping over the rocks, shrinking and growing according to the shore of the river. It was a solo shadow, wobbling.
The moon came over the earth, like a round blaze of fire.
-We should be arriving at that town, Ignacio. You who have ears free to hear, look and see if you can hear the barking of the dogs. Keep in mind that that will tell us Tonaya is just around the mount. And it has been hours since we left the mount. Remember that, Ignacio.
-Yes, but I don’t see a sign of anything.
-I am tired.
-Put me down.
The old man walked backwards until he reached a wall and he rearranged his load there, without releasing it from his shoulders. Although his legs were buckling, he did not want to sit down, because afterwards he would be unable to lift the body of his son, since back there, hours before, they had helped him load him on his back. And this is how he was carried since then.
-How do you feel?
-Bad.
They spoke little. Each time less. At times he seemed to be sleeping. At times he seemed to be cold. Trambling. He knew when the trembling would seize his son because of the jerkings he felt, and because he would dig his feet into his loins like spurs. Later the hands of his son, locked around his neck shook his head vigorously like a rattle.
He gritted his teeh so that he would not bite his tongue, and when his son finished he would ask:
-Does it hurt a lot?
-Somewhat- his son answered.
At first he had said: “Let me down here… put me down here… go on alone. I will catch up to you tomorrow or whenever I recover a bit”. He had said this like fifty times. But now he never said that.
There was the moon. In front of them. A big and colored moon that filled their eyes with light and that stretched and obscured more their shadow over the earth.
-I can’t see where I am going- he said.
But no one answered him.
The other was sitting up there, completely illuminated by the moon, with his pale face, without blood, reflecting the opaque light. And he was below.
-Did you hear me, Ignacio? I’m telling you that you aren’t looking well.
The other remained silent.
He continued walking, stumblingly. He slouched his body and later straightened to return to stumbling again.
-This is not a road. They told us that behind the hill was Tonaya. We have already passed the hill. And Tonaya can not be seen, nor is any noise letting us know that we are close to it. Why do you not want to tell me what you see, you up there, Ignacio?
-Put me down, father.
-You feel bad?
-Yes.
-I will take you to Tonaya no matter what. There I will find someone to care for you. They said there was a doctor there. I will take you to him. I have carried you for hours and I am not going to leave you thrown aside here so that you die.
He trembled a bit. He walked a few steps sideways and returned to straightening up.
-I will take you to Tonaya.
-Put me down.
His voice became soft, he barely whispered:
-I want to rest a bit.
-Sleep up there. After all, I have a good grip on you.
The moon continued rising, almost blue, into the clear sky. The face of the old man, wet with sweat, was filled by the moon. He hid his eyes to block what was in front of him since he couldn’t bend his head held tightly by the hands of his son.
-All that I do, I don’t do for you. I do it for your deceased mother. Because you were her son. That’s why I do this. She would reprimand me if I left you there, where I found you, and I would not have picked you up to take you to be cured, as I am doing. It is her that has given me courage, not you. Firstly because to you I do not owe anything more than difficulties, absolute martification, absolute shame.
He sweated to talk. But the night winde dried the sweat. And over the dry sweat, he began to sweat again.
-I will break my back, but I will carry you to Tonaya, so that they cure the wounds they have done to you. And I am sure that, when you feel better, you will return to your evil ways. This is not what is important to me. As long as you go far away, where I will not have to know anything about you. Provided that happens… Because to me you are already not my son. I have cursed the blood that you got from me. My part is cursed. I have said: “May the blood that I gave you rot in your kidneys!” I said that whenever I found out that you were wandering the streets, living by robbery and killing people… good people. And if you don’t believe me, there is my friend Tranquilino. He baptized you. He gave you your name. He also received bad luck from knowing you. Since then I have said: “This could not be my son.”
-Look to see if you can see something. Or if you hear anything. You that can do that from up there, because I am already deaf.
-I see nothing.
-Worse for you, Ignacio.
-I’m thirsty.
-Hold on! We are already close. What’s happening is that it is night and they have turned off the lights in the toen. But at least you should here if the dogs are barking. Try to hear.
-Give me water.
-Here there is no water. There is nothing but stones. Hold on. And even if there was, I wouldn’t let you down to drink water. No one could help me to lift you up again, and alone I can not.
-I am very thirsty and very tired.
-That reminds me of when you were born. That is how you were then. You awoke hungry and ate to fall asleep again. And your mother gave you water, because already you were finished with her milk. You coun’t be filled. And you were very rabid. I never thought that in time I would get so enraged at you… But that is what happened. Your mother, rest in peace, want you to grow strong. She believed that you would support her when you grew up. She didn’t have anything but you. The other son had to go and kill her. You would have killed her again anyways if she had seen you at this point.
He felt that the man he carried on his shoulders had stopped tightening his knees and had begun to loosen his feet, balancing them on one side or the other. And it seemed that the head, up there, was sweating as if it was sobbing.
On his hair he felt big drops fall, like tears.
-Are you crying, Ignacio? It makes you cry to remember your mother, right? but you never did anything for her. You only paid us bad. It seems that, instead of care, we gave you nothing but wickedness. And see? Now they wounded you. What happened to your friends? They killed them all. But they had no one. They could well have said: “We have no one to whom we can give our pain”. But you, Ignacio?
* * *
There was the town. The roofs shone brightly under the light of the moon. He had the impression that he was being crushed by the weight of his son when the back of his knees bent in his final efforts. Upon arriving at the first building, he rested briefly on the railing around it and let go of the limp body, as if it had been disjointed.
He unclasped with difficulty the fingers with which his son had been holding onto his neck, and, upon being free, heard on all sides the barking of the dogs.
-You didn’t hear that, Ignacio?- he said -You didn’t even help me with this hope.