The Wanderers Read Online Free PDF

Whenever he approached the child – which didn’t happen often—every alarm went off. Something in the way he looked at him was frankly wrong. She felt it in her skin, in her pores, and on a cold January morning, she left.
    When Mama Vaello looked at Josue, dressed in those precious little white suits the Church would give her, her heart persistently went back to his brother, but Argentina was as unreachable for her as the Martian satellite Deimos, so she contented herself with taking care of her son as well as she knew how. His genetic legacy was not as good as his brother’s, and Josue was born with a meniscus deficiency. His right femur was also shorter than the left and, consequently, Josue had always limped.
    Once Moses discovered all of that, he spoke to Cripple.
    “ You were right... you do have a brother,” he told him one night during dinner.
    Cripple lifted his head and studied his friend’s face. He was holding the spoon with which he was devouring a bowl of garlic soup.
    “ You’ve been... investigating?”
    Moses nodded.
    “ Have you seen him?”
    “ No. They took him to Argentina, before you were born.”
    “ What’s his name?”
    “ Alejandro. But maybe his new parents changed it. Your mother never gave him his biological father’s last name. She was a minor back then, and had problems with drugs, economic troubles... I don’t think she knew who his father was either, so he was Vaello, like you.”
    Cripple absently moved the pieces of bread around his bowl of soup. “Argentina...” he repeated, thoughtfully.
    “ I was looking on the Internet, but I didn’t find anything. Vaello’s a common name. I... I couldn’t find anything else,” he whispered. He had made a great effort, inquired; asking many people, searching the official registers in the province, but now he felt that he actually had very little conclusive information to offer his friend. He was feeling such a physical sense of frustration that he noticed his hands tingling. Finally, feeling that he should add something more, he ended with some words of apology.
    “ It’s funny...” said Cripple after a while, this time without lifting his gaze, while slowly sipping his soup.
    “ What’s that?”
    “ You were looking for my brother, but this whole time, I had already found him.”
    “ What?” asked Moses, without really understanding.
    “ You helped me in jail, and you helped me outside of jail. You helped me find employment. You gave me a new life. You spent every weekend with me for months so I wouldn’t feel the temptation to back to the streets. Do you think I haven’t noticed? And now I find out that you’ve spent I don’t know how long trying to find a brother for me...”
    Moses, quietly listened, enveloped in a myriad of sensations.
    “ You know... ? I say who needs him. You’re my brother now, man. My family.”
    There was a short silence while Moses assimilated everything his friend had told him. Cripple, on the other hand, concentrated on eating the soup, with his head almost in his bowl.
    “ Well, well,” said Moses finally. “Let’s not suck each other’s dicks.”
    They laughed heartily for a good while, and then they laughed even more. Sitting in the small kitchen, vaguely illuminated by a drab, yellow neon ceiling light, they both experienced an inner joy that was completely unknown to each of them: it was the invisible and intoxicating warmth of feeling part of a family.
    The day the Hell closed its doors and ceased to let any more guests in, Moses was making deals at the flea market. He found and sold stuff, mostly things people did not want any more: knick-knacks and small electronic devices found in the trash that he later fixed, but also magazines, decorative objects, furniture and, really, anything that could spark someone’s interest enough to be bought. He had a very good deal with a trucker kid who worked for the Operative Services of Mijas’ Town Hall, and when there were interesting