Martu and his brothers

Daniel Goldberg is the photographer of the picture above.

In a beautiful and ancestral town, once upon a time three sawhorses brothers who, almost ever, were route companions. They shared themselves the same owner, mother and food, as well as the interminable hours of long walk, very few hours of dream, and, in general, a life of deprivations and pains, seemed to the one of so many other little animals that inhabited the Planet.

Martu was the son of Nora and Facu, nephew of Nacha and grandson of Gusta. He was a boy so prankish that all the afternoons he felt the necessity to change, becoming a hyperactive player of long arc. In the afternoons, when he went to school, and the nights he returned to adopt his normal shape; he was again a boy of 8 years and 4 months, with no brothers, but many mascots of short and long life.

His pleasure to be called Martu ended when he was 6 years and 2 months old. At that time he would prefer to be called just Eltinao. And, although nobody took him seriously, and not matter the tantrums he did it, the family and friends of the school called him “Martu”; his real name, Martin, surely someday would use it.

It was typical of him to play with foods, to mix tuco with the earth of the garden and even to make a consistent and homogenous sauce; he also filled up the pies with insects, or he inflated them with wind. Sometimes, Martu got tired to play around with his sawhorses.

But they, the sawhorses, did not want to be the children toy. Their fatigue was such that they loved their resting hours. In that way was understood by the older brother, the leader of the three. Sometimes he put his big eyes on his small brothers and full of sadness its eyes look at a distance, on the horizon.

The brothers liked to take a walk around the town, free, but not urged on. No one of them took the advantage, no one remained back. They loved walking to their own compass, and also feeling the children caresses, the ones who saw them walk.

And it happened in a springtime afternoon, when Martu took them to walk around. Facu had told him in the morning, that before removing them to warned him to go with them. But the boy took advantage of the schedule nap of his father and went to see the sawhorses. He found them in their stay, brooding very slowly, and without doing much. Martu carried them towards the little path of stones that happened to pass through the town.

The four walked like brothers in a dominical stroll. Martu sang or hum to them in the ears. The three little sawhorses reacted with gestures of internal affability. They crossed the small stream that ran behind of the priest Jijón’s house. That house always seemed with a “kept” aspect to Eltinao, perhaps because it was one of the oldest of the town, with a giant wood door, to which only an adult could touch it.

They walked more of half an hour, until finally Martu found his objective: the house of his friend Pepe, which had ceilings of sun-dried clay bricks and cement covered with painting of very alive and attractive colors. The house was supplied with a small shop taken care by his parents. They were very good friends of Facu and Nora. Unfortunately, just that afternoon they went shopping, asking their son to take care of the small shop. Very responsible Pepe knew all the prices and places destined in the bookcase for each product.

Martu arrived when Pepe was alone in the small shop. The afternoon was calm, very calm, ancestral and humid, a precise afternoon to play. Perhaps for that reason Pepe forgot the order of his parents and he went away to play in the internal little yard. On the other hand, Martu aloud ordered to his sawhorses “remain here. I am not going to delay”. The sad young donkeys did not have more to do. They remained in the entrance of the small shop.

The minutes spent slow. The three little brothers had to be there without moving, feeding the anxiety little by little. By all single side the shouts of the children who played the ball were listened to. Meanwhile, the afternoon sun ignited and the shade of the small shop entrance changed places, reducing itself more and more. Then, the older ass, the one than always decided for the three, thought about leaving, and with a glance ordered his brothers also to start departing.

But the two small ones did not move, and they did not perturb either when the older one began to walk. Perhaps he looked for a little water, or perhaps to run away. That site was incorrectly chosen by Martu to wait. The older ass realized that the smallest ones were not going to follow him. He stopped his walk and he backed down, the minors had developed more their fidelity…

Note: I give the animals personal pronouns, because of my love and respect for them.