The boulevard of the dead and other stories

The castaway wounded by love

"There seems to have been a shipwreck recently," exclaimed one of the fishermen, as he dipped his hand in the water.

"I don't think so," answered the other fisherman, without paying much attention.

"There are remains of wood in the water, Tomás."

"Really?" The other fisherman exclaimed in surprise, but immediately added, "Then they were probably washed away by the waves, or maybe they were rescued. That's why we can't see anything."

The fisherman nodded, while he continued looking into the distance, trying to find something to confirm his companion's statement. He still held out hope that there were survivors, or at least that they could do something to help them. For several minutes, both fishermen remained silent, until his companion let out a muffled cry.

"Over there, Raul!"

The fisherman stood up in his small boat and put a hand to his eyes, trying to find the spot his companion was pointing to: In the distance he noticed a body floating on a small wooden board. His hands were submerged in the water, as if he had been trying to move forward all night in that way; likewise, his clothes were torn, which proved the sailor's assumption.

"A castaway!"

"Is he alive?" asked the other fisherman.

"That's what we're going to find out, Tomas," he answered, as they gathered up their nets and slowly sailed towards him. "I hope he survived..."

When they considered themselves close enough to him, they reached out their hand to touch his arm, trying to find a reaction that would tell them he was still alive, but, despite all the attempts of both fishermen, the shipwrecked man did not move. Faced with this, they decided to put him in their boat and take him to the shore. People would know what to do.

During their journey to shore, neither of the two men dared to speak, probably frightened to learn that they were carrying a stranger with them. And, once they made it to the beach, they took it upon themselves to lay the body on the sand, while pressing their hands on the castaway's chest, trying to revive him, still screaming for help.

"What? But how?"

"He's a castaway," said one of the women who had approached the fishermen." But, I didn't know of any boat heading this way."

"We don't know where he was headed. We just found him and decided to rescue him," exclaimed the fisherman, without leaving his task. "When he wakes up we will know what happened."

"If he does."

After a few minutes of desperation, in which more people gathered around him, the castaway opened his eyes, bending down to spit water on the sand. At the same time, the rest of the people simply looked at him with curiosity. For a moment, no one dared to say anything, as the castaway lay back on the sand, holding a hand to his heart, breathing deeper and deeper.

"Talk to him," an old woman whispered to the fisherman.

"Are you all right?"

The castaway just watched.

"Are you all right? I am Raul... I was one of the fishermen who found you. We decided to bring you here."

"I don't think he understands our language."

"Really?" 

"Well, I don't know, he doesn't say anything," answered a girl timidly. "Ask something else."

The castaway continued to analyze their faces, still clutching his hand to his chest, as if they were frightening him, or else, as if he were afraid they would tear off whatever he was protecting.