Fiction: The game/ El juego (ENG/ ESP)

in The Ink Well3 months ago (edited)


image.png

Pixabay

The game


image.png

Santa washed her clothes in the river with other girls like her. Santa wasn't the prettiest, nor the friendliest of all the girls in town—for that, there was Silvia, who looked like a doll, or Amanda, who was genuinely friendly, but Santa was the most serious of them all, and as her friends would say: she had a name that was well-chosen, because when it came to being a saint, she was.

They were washing, when Santa saw Lencho coming, mounted on his horse, very smiling:

"Good morning, beautiful women" - he said and took off his hat. All the girls began to laugh and answered him:

"Good morning, Lencho. Good morning" - except Santa who kept silent. This did not go unnoticed by the boy who immediately said:

"On top of being unfriendly, muda" -Lencho spoke to Santa, who did not open his mouth.

"And she is so pretty when she talks" - continued Lencho and the women nudged him so that Santa would say a word, but only when Lencho left and the women were left alone, Santa said:

"He thinks I'm going to fall into his game" - he assured and although the other girls affirmed that Lencho was only gallantry, Santa announced as if he had lived a lot:

"Men like Lencho are the most dangerous: they make dizzy with their words and then bite their victims."

o0o

On his way home, with his clothes washed, Santa was thinking about Lencho:

"He thinks I'm going to fall into his trap of nice words, in his double meaning jokes, in his permanent smile" - he thought, remembering the words his grandmother had told him:

"Santa, beware of men who only want one thing" - the old woman repeated as if it were a prayer.

When Santa arrived home, he saw his mother in front of the stove cooking meat: she was cooking food for the farm workers:

"Santa, thank goodness you came to take lunch to the farmhands",_ exclaimed the mother running from one side of the house to the other. Santa looked at her mother and felt sorry for her: a man came, got what he wanted and went far away, leaving her pregnant when she was very young. Then others came and did the same:

"That's how men are," said Santa's grandmother, remembering her own story.

But Santa was determined to change the story, to do things differently. She imagined herself married to a good man:

"Not a man like Lencho, who all he does is fall in love".

With the food in a basket, Santa arrived at the farm. There were many workers there, who put aside their work tools and lined up to receive lunch from the young girl hands. Among the workers was Lencho, who as soon as he saw Santa, his eyes sparkled and he said to her:

"If this food comes from your hands, it will surely be delicious" - he assured and saw how a slight blush colored Santa's cheeks, who remained silent before the man's attentive gaze.

And so the weeks and months passed, and every chance Lencho had to speak nicely to the girl, he did it, although from Santa he only got silence and disdain:

"He thinks I'm going to fall into his game",_ Santa kept repeating to herself, no longer to remember the women of her family, but to silence those feelings that were blooming inside her and filling her head with lustful thoughts: Lencho on his horse running after her while her body was water and fire.

o0o

On the last Saturday of June, Santa took lunch and brought it to the farm workers. It was strange that Lencho, who was the first to approach, remained far from the girl, without saying a word. Nor, when the girl picked up the empty containers and said goodbye to everyone, did she get an answer from the man who for months had been behind her:

"See you tomorrow", _ shouted Santa for all to hear, but Lencho said nothing. Nor did he say more the next chances he ran into her.

"He just wants me to fall into his game," said Santa to herself, feeling a pain in her chest, because she knew that deep down she really wanted to play, but the game was over.


image.png

The image is free, from Pixabay and the text was translated with Deepl


image.png

Thank you very much for your reading, comment and support, my friend. Until next time


image.png


Click here to read in spanish


El juego
Santa lavaba su ropa en el río con otras muchachas como ella. No era Santa la más bonita, ni la más simpática de todas las muchachas del pueblo, para eso estaban Silvia que parecía una muñeca o Amanda que era la simpatía genuina hecha mujer, pero Santa sí era la más seria de todas y como decían sus amigas: tenía el nombre bien puesto, porque para santa, ella.
Lavaban, cuando Santa vio que venía Lencho, montado en su caballo, muy sonriente:
_Buenos días, mujeres bonitas - dijo y se quitó el sombrero. Todas las muchachas comenzaron a reír y le respondieron:
_Buen día, Lencho. Buenos días - excepto Santa que guardó silencio. Esto no pasó desapercibido para el chico que inmediatamente dijo:
_Encima de antipática, muda - le habló Lencho a Santa, quien no abrió la boca.
_Y tan bonita que es cuando habla - siguió Lencho y las mujeres le daban codazos para que Santa dijera alguna palabra, pero solo cuando Lencho se fue y las mujeres quedaron solas, Santa dijo:
_Él cree que voy a caer en su juego - aseguró y aunque las otras muchachas afirmaron que lo de Lencho era sólo galantería, Santa anunció como si hubiese vivido mucho:
_Los hombres como Lencho son los más peligrosos: marean con sus palabras y luego muerden a sus víctimas.
Rumbo a su casa, con la ropa lavada, Santa iba pensando en Lencho:
_Él cree que voy a caer en su trampa de palabras bonitas, en sus chistes de doble sentido, en su sonrisa permanente - pensaba, recordando las palabras que le había dicho su abuela:
_Santa, cuídate de los hombres que solo quieren una cosa - repetía la anciana como si aquello fuese un rezo.
Cuando Santa llegó a su casa, vio a su madre frente a las hornillas de la cocina guisando una carne: hacía comida para los peones de una hacienda:
_Menos mal que llegaste, Santa, para que lleves el almuerzo a los peones - exclamó la madre corriendo de un lado a otro de la casa. >Santa miró a su madre y sintió pena por ella: un hombre vino, obtuvo lo que quería y se fue lejos, dejándola embarazada cuando era muy joven. Luego vinieron otros e hicieron lo mismo:
_Así son los hombres - decía la abuela de Santa, recordando su propia historia.
Pero Santa estaba decidida a cambiar la historia, a hacer las cosas distintas. Se imaginó casada con un buen hombre:
_No un hombre como Lencho, que lo único que hace es enamorar.
Con la comida en una cesta, llegó Santa a la finca. En ella había muchos trabajadores, los cuales dejaron sus instrumentos de trabajo a un lado y se pusieron en fila para recibir de las manos de la muchacha, el almuerzo. Entre los trabajadores estaba Lencho, que apenas vio a Santa, los ojos le brillaron y le dijo:
_Si esta comida viene de tus manos, de seguro estará deliciosa - aseguró y vio como un leve rubor coloreaba las mejillas de Santa, quien permaneció callada ante la mirada atenta del hombre.
Así pasaron las semanas y los meses, y en cada oportunidad que Lencho tenía de hablarle bonito a la muchacha, lo hacía, aunque de Santa solo consiguiera silencio y desprecio:
_Él cree que voy a caer en su juego -se repetía Santa, ya no para recordar a las mujeres de su familia, sino para callar esos sentimientos que estaban floreciendo dentro de ella y que le llenaban la cabeza de lujuriosos pensamientos: Lencho en su caballo corriendo detrás de ella mientras su cuerpo era agua y fuego.
El último sábado de junio, Santa tomó el almuerzo y se lo llevó a los peones de la hacienda. Se extrañó que Lencho, quien era el primero en acercarse, permaneció lejos de la chica, sin decir una palabra. Tampoco, cuando la muchacha recogió los envases vacíos y se despidió de todos, obtuvo respuesta de aquel hombre que por meses estuvo detrás de ella:
_Hasta mañana - gritó Santa para que escucharan todos, pero Lencho no dijo nada. Tampoco dijo más las siguientes oportunidades que se topó con ella.
_Él sólo quiere que caiga en su juego - se decía Santa a sí misma sintiendo un dolor en el pecho, porque sabía que en el fondo tenía muchas ganas de jugar, pero ya había terminado el juego.

Sort:  

That last line...It's almost as though you wrote that whole story knowing exactly what the last line would be.

It's interesting that as I read, I agreed with Santa, and yet the last line suggests that maybe she should have been more forthcoming.

It's a great story, and I'm still glad Santa held herself in check. There are many Lenchos in the world, and many women who regret being beguiled by the easy smile.

I agree with you. Unfortunately, there are many destinies that are inherited and very few people who manage to change their destiny. Thank you for your comment. I loved your story. Regards

It didn't end the way I thought it would, with Santa falling in love with Lencho. In the end, she saw that he didn't get what he wanted, and she gave up. I hoped he would show Santa that he was different, but this is the reality we see

Yes, that would have been ideal. Sometimes happy endings are only in fictional stories. Greetings and thanks for your comment

Congratulations @nancybriti1! You have completed the following achievement on the Hive blockchain And have been rewarded with New badge(s)

You have been a buzzy bee and published a post every day of the week.

You can view your badges on your board and compare yourself to others in the Ranking
If you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word STOP

Check out our last posts:

Be ready for the July edition of the Hive Power Up Month!
Hive Power Up Day - July 1st 2025

Thank you for the information

Awesome job @nancybriti1! You've been super busy and published a post every day of the week. Keep up the fantastic work!

Hi @nancybriti1. This is a very captivating story. Santa was coy with Lencho to the point that he gave up on her — certainly not the outcome she was hoping for!

We have some tips for you, as there are a few things that could improve your story.

One is to fix the pronouns. There are several places where "he" and "his" were used to reference Santa. But they should be the female pronouns, "her" and "hers."

Another fix you could make would be the first paragraph, which is quite confusing. Google Translate produced the version below, which really makes more sense! You might want to replace that first paragraph with this one:

Santa washed her clothes in the river with other girls like her. Santa wasn't the prettiest, nor the friendliest of all the girls in town—for that, there was Silvia, who looked like a doll, or Amanda, who was genuinely friendly, but Santa was the most serious of them all, and as her friends would say: she had a name that was well-chosen, because when it came to being a saint, she was.

Other than those issues, it's a well-written and engaging story!

As always, I am very grateful for your suggestions and corrections. I will change it. Greetings and thanks

TIW_Com2_Banner.jpg

Thank you very much for your appreciation, friends

I loved Santa's resolve not to easily fall into the arms of a deceptive man, considering her mother's predicament.

Yes she developed feelings for Lencho but our heart, fool heart, does not always guide us aright.

A simply beautiful story!

Santa is a brave woman who dared to step out of the circle, to make a difference. Thank you for your comment

Yes, things of such happen on real world. Men like Lencho may be dangerous and may not.

It is no one's work to convince others of what they thought of them.

If Santa keeps thinking everything is a game then it is.

Good story line from that perspective.

Yes, I believe that not all men are like Lencho, thank God. Santa's mother and grandmother were just unlucky. Greetings and thanks for your comment

This is a tender, emotion-dense novel, beautifully composed in layers of generational insight, defiance, and the personal turmoil of first love.
Santa’s character is perfectly established serious but dignified, carrying the weight of her family’s history on her shoulders like the load of provisions she carries. The way she listens to her grandmother’s warnings, looks on at her mother’s pangs of labor, and builds her own world on the condition of never falling for some smooth-talking type like Lencho is good and true. The brilliance is the way you disclose through all the stringent self-restraint she is still the little girl in the storm of feeling she is so eager to disregard.
And Lencho, oh, Lencho! The insistence, the appeal, the sudden silence all create such tension. When he pulls away, subtle but like the slap of the face. That moment where the formerly resisting Santa is the one longing for his attention, chef’s kiss. It reverses the whole story in such quiet but heart-wrenching fashion.

Statements like:

“He thinks I’m going to fall into his trap,”
“…but the game was over.”

…are beautifully written. They echo through the work like the rhythm of resistance turning to regret.

In short:
This is a beautiful, honest portrayal of emotional conflict, gender expectations, and pent-up longing. It is resonant. Bravo.
No criticism needed , just a standing ovation. 👏🏽

En mi país diríamos que Santa es muy guajira😅😅. Debió haberse divertido un poquito sin que eso la perjudicara para toda una vida😂.

This is really a very captivating story that I was really able to learn so much beyond what I can imagine