In fact, my mother had already mentioned the idea of Papa to me and although she too found that, in a climate like that, it was quite natural to feel sleepy, she still saw no reason not to make Papa happy if she continued to insist.
Like Roberto Herrera, Jose Luis also did not deserve his nickname, "the Ugly." Papa had great respect for him. He had told me how he had skillfully stitched his head back after he had done "a stupid fall making quite a deep cut." A stupid fall and a deep wound. When he saw the color of blood (very bright) his first thought was: "I have to stop this stupid thing quickly or I won't see Adriana anymore." There was nothing to worry about and he would write me soon to say everything was fine. "This is just to tell you who and what I was thinking about when I saw the vivid blood from the arteries. It was a very simple thought and I had no choice in doing it. It was just there."
El Feo arrived at the Finca with his black suitcase, looked me over meticulously, and recommend some tests. When the results came back they showed that I was on the dangerous threshold of pernicious anemia. I was ordered medicines, injections, raw liver "once a day," periodic checks and to take the matter seriously, a completely useless recommendation by Papa, rightly proud of having saved my life.
Thanks to the multiple treatments and my stoicism in swallowing huge portions of raw liver every day, the red blood cells began to increase and the sleepiness to decrease and soon, going out with the Pilar, I was able to admire the reflections of the sun on the ocean at all hours.
Papa decided to celebrate the return of my blood cells with a trip to Puerto Escondido, the bay formed by the mouth of a...
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