Daniel, el Mochuelo, al escuchar la voz grave y dulce de la niña, notó que algo muy íntimo se le desgarraba dentro del pecho. La niña hacía pendulear la cacharra de la leche sin cesar de mirarle. Sus trenzas brillaban al sol.

—Adiós, Uca-uca —dijo el Mochuelo. Y su voz tenía unos trémulos inusitados.

—Mochuelo, ¿te acordarás de mí?

Daniel apoyó los codos en el alféizar y se sujetó la cabeza con las manos. Le daba mucha vergüenza decir aquello, pero era ésta su última oportunidad.

—Uca-uca… —dijo, al fin. —No dejes a la Guindilla que te quite las pecas, ¿me oyes? ¡No quiero que te las quite!

El camino, 1950

Ilustración de Noemí Villamuza sobre El camino de Miguel Delibes
Lápiz sobre papel

 

 

 

THAT THING CALLED…

As he listened to the soft, serious voice of the little girl, something that

affected him deeply seemed to be clawing at him inside his chest. The little

girl swung the jar backwards and forwards, without taking her eyes off him.

Her plaits alone shone in the sunlight.

‘Good-bye, Uca-uca,’ said Daniel. His voice was unusually shaky.

‘Owl, will you remember me?’

Daniel leant his elbows on the window-sill and took his head in his hands. It embarrassed him to say what he wanted, but this was his last opportunity. ‘Uca-uca –‘ he said at last. ‘Don’t let the Pepper Pod get rid of your freckles. D’you hear? I want you to keep them!’

 

The Path, 1950

Illustrated by Noemi Villamuza

Pencil on paper