Friends and readers, in this chapter I will need your opinions:

You see, this work will have a few complete dialogues and single words in Spanish... this is so because I thought it would serve to make the difference between before and after even more obvious... my question is the following: do you prefer to keep the dialogues in Spanish or to translate those few dialogues into English and just highlight them with italics?

03-. The Summit of the World

From the door of the cottage, Ronalda Manzano waited patiently and silently until she lost sight of her daughter. After the slow passing of several minutes, the woman finally decided to go out in search of the girl, without saying a word to the pair of men who were behind her. Roberto, on seeing the woman go out into the field, made an attempt to get up to accompany her, but Agustín, her father, stopped him by resting a calloused hand on his shoulder.

"Esas son cosas de viejas" he said, sitting down without looking up from a chair next to the makeshift cardboard suitcase. "Créeme, es mejor dejarlas que se arreglen solas."

The teenager, not daring to contradict the old man's words, knelt down next to his father and between the two of them they began to pack as best they could the few belongings they thought it was convenient to put inside the cardboard box. Every few seconds, young Roberto turned towards the door, in the distance, he could barely make out the upright figure of his stepmother advancing slowly.

After walking a little more than a mile, as she passed near the small river that nourished the village fields, Ronalda heard a muffled cry. Without losing her characteristic stoic calm, she walked straight to the bank, took off her shoes and plunged into the cold stream until her knees were wet.

Although she could hear her daughter clearly, Ronalda could not see her, some of the villagers said that the spirits of the stream took care and hid the little girls who played in those waters. Finally, after looking for the little girl with her eyes, the woman caught sight of a little figure wrapped in a white dress, her daughter was curled up between two rocks on the opposite bank, if Ronalda wanted to get to her she would have to get much wetter than her knees.

Using her right hand, Ronalda tied her skirt to her body while her left one lifted her pair of shoes over her head, with a determined step and a serious face she crossed the stream.

"¿Se puede saber qué estás haciendo acá?" Because of the effort her voice came out harsh, almost dictatorial, and even though she was planning to do it, she wouldn't scold her at that moment for running away from home.

"No me aguanté las ganas de sentirlo por última vez amá" Rosa knew, like everyone else in town, that her mother had only one tone of voice, the stern one, so she didn't resent the abrupt tone, but simply resigned herself to it and stood up. "Perdón por salir corriendo, señora."

Perhaps it was the warm light that the sun radiated before it set over the horizon, perhaps it was the emotional charge that came with the news of the sudden move, but when Ronalda saw her daughter completely drenched, trying hard not to break down in tears, she became aware of the immense fragility that that trembling little body was trying to hide by putting on a serious face like hers.

"No te disculpes, Rosa, no hiciste nada malo," The thinness and vulnerability she was just discovering in the girl in front of her finally moved the stoic woman enough to try to comfort her" —.… ¿sabes…? yo nací en un pueblo muy diferente a este, no puedo recordar bien el nombre sólo sé que estaba en Sonora" the girl almost jumped with fright when she saw how her mother, that woman with an inscrutable face and who always looked immense in her eyes, knelt down to be at her height without worrying about taking care of her dress or keeping her shoes dry. "Ya sé "Sonora" suena a nombre inventando… pero puedo jurar que así se llamaba el lugar… escucha pequeña, sé que tienes miedo, pero te aseguro que nada malo nos pasará."

"Es que me duele saber que tendré que despedirme de todos a los que conozco… mis abuelos, de tía Lorena sé que no los volveremos a ver, yo… ¿puedo preguntarte algo?" Rosa, emboldened by the strange closeness she was sharing with her mother for the first time, finally spoke. "Sé que cuando eran más jóvenes tía Lorena y usted tuvieron que abandonar su casa ¿Tuviste miedo entonces?"

"¿Qué si tenía miedo? ¡Estaba asustadísima! Pero irme de mi hogar tampoco fue por mi decisión, verás eran los tiempos de la revolución, mis padres nos enviaron a mí y a mi hermana para este valle… cuando la lucha acabó, los federales persiguieron a papá y sus hombres… y nosotras nunca volvimos a saber de ellos." Ronalda carefully took Rosa's hands, intertwining her fingers with the girl's. "Sí, tenía miedo, pero al llegar acá aprendí algo valiosísimo y ya va siendo hora que tú también lo sepas."

Rosa only managed to nod between sporadic tremors, the sun was setting, taking with it the warmth of the day.

"Descubrí que al final no vale na' eso de buscar un salvador, la fuerza que necesitamos, esa ayuda por la que tanta gente se desgañota gritando y rezando… la llevamos dentro, mientras tengas aliento debes perseverar, luchar…" the expression on the little girl's face showed that she had not understood any of the sermon, but instead of irritating Ronalda, this managed to ignite a strange flame in her eyes... almost a maternal resemblance. "I will say it more simply; you are only my daughter, ok? nothing more than Rosa Manzano... and you are no less, never let anyone make you less."

That last sentence had been said in the Yaqui dialect, however, as if each word had some kind of power, Rosa had understood them perfectly. A warmth different from the sun flooded the girl's chest. Trying not to cry, the little girl hugged her mother's belly.

"Te quiero chicharrón." The woman covered her daughter's shoulders in an embrace, wishing she could comfort, hold that little body in her bare arms forever. "Y espero que nunca lo olvides."

They had never been like this... alone and in peace, much less by the river. That place was the ancestral refuge of girl's laughter and playmates, at least until adulthood caught up with the local girls. They both realized that this intimate moment marked them forever, turned them into other people... people who might become true friends in the future.

"Yo también te quiero Ronnie," the nickname lit up the woman's cheeks, and trying to hide her smile, she carried her daughter. "Gracias por escucharme."

"No me agradezcas, mija… pero no quiero que me vuelvas a decir así."

Then they both returned to the hut, hugging and with smiles on their faces.

"¡Roberto! ¡Pinche huevo con patas, quítate de ahí que ya me desacomodaste todo!" As soon as Ronalda walked through the door and saw the mess the two men had made in her absence, her mood returned to its usual state., but for Rosa, the real Ronalda Manzano, the one who had shared a piece of her soul with her... that one had stayed back there, at the river... "¡Niña no te quedes como zopilota viendo! ¡Ayúdeme a empacar que debemos irnos por la mañana!"

-o-

"What do you mean you haven't told your parents anything yet! Because of the shock, Margarita dropped the keys to her salon, barely managing to catch them in mid-fall. "¡No friegues chula! And you're just telling me?!"

"What did you want me to do?" Carlota exclaimed at her boss's apparent lack of sensitivity to such a sensitive subject. "Tell my parents that instead of going to college like my cousin, their "brilliant" daughter got a job at a beauty salon a few blocks from house?!"

"Yes! That's what we agreed!" Margarita cracked her fingers and arranged her hair, the Spanish women did that every time she got nervous. "Do you know what would have happened to me if one day your father decided to have his monthly haircut and saw you standing there!"

"Please Magi, it's no big deal..."

"No? You don't know him as well as I do!" She didn't want to do it, but she didn't have so many options either, the Casagrande girl was her best stylist and she liked her very much... but she wouldn't get in trouble with one of the oldest families in the city. "Listen, I... I... I won't let you work again until you tell them!"

"Tell us what?" The blood of both the Spanish woman and the Chicana girl froze in an instant. Turning slightly back, they both discovered Frida wrapped in her coat. "Señora Reyna, did my child cause you any trouble?"

Carlotta quickly stepped in, putting herself between her mother and her boss-friend. "Mom, it's a little late for a walk, you know that violence has been..."

"Oh please… these "robbery" things are not serious enough in this area to skip one of Lalo's walks.," as if the canine understood what the painter had just said, it barked after every word said by its owner. "Besides, I wanted to see if the best stylists in the place would give me a discount."

A creak of the joints in Margarita's hands and the confused look on Carlota's face were the only response Frida got.

"Your grandfather told us months ago what you were really doing," although Frida hadn't taken the smile off her face, her voice came out harsher than usual, "and since we're being honest, I hope you're doing well at the salon for both of you, since from now on you'll have to cooperate with the expenses, do you understand young lady?"

"... yes..."

"Yes" what?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Okay, now help me with Lalo please, today your aunt is going to make a very important announcement and I don't want to be all sweaty when she does it... see you tomorrow Magi," the Hispanic woman only managed to wave her hand as both Latin women walked away down the sidewalk.

"An important announcement?" Barely recovering from the biggest surprise of her life, Carlota hardly managed to coordinate herself enough to take the leash her mother offered her. "Announcement of what?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Carlota was sure that her mother's love for gossip was something she had learned from her father-in-law. "Well, look, your aunt has been talking with...!"

-o-

Bruce Nakamura happily entered the building, gratefully taking in the warm air that hit him in the face as he entered the residential lobby.

"Let's go home Zindzi," the Japanese man's smile widened even more as he watched the little Collie sit up and bark twice at the sound of his name, «If only my Nelson would behave as well» he thought to himself. "Oh, Mrs. Casagrande! Thank you again for letting me keep one of Nelson's pups..."

Stunned, Nakamura watched as Rosa walked down the stairs with her apron stained by food and her mouth slightly open without paying attention to anything that was happening around her. He was about to go after her to thank her again when he was pushed aside by a group of six tall and muscular men in suits, none of whom lived in the building.

«Curious» he thought again without saying anything «I don't remember seeing them before and I don't remember an apartment being available for rent either», however, he decided to leave the matter alone as he noticed the barrel of a gun peeking out from under the coat of one of the men.

-o-

With a huge smile covering her face, Carlota walked forward holding her mother's arm. Both of them moved nimbly and with laughter between the sidewalk invaded by street vendors and the cars stopped completely due to the traffic.

"What do you think happened to make the street look like this?" said Frida, pointing to the busy avenue and pulling her daughter out of her reverie, just before they turned the last corner on the way home. "I think it's because of another traffic light without lights... they've been stealing them a lot lately."

"Please, stop changing the subject amá! The situation allowed Carlota to take certain liberties, but she would never stop speaking respectfully to her parents and grandparents. "Do you think she'll bring him home soon! Maybe today! We should get ready and...!"

"No! Nonononono," Frida's little outburst surprised both her daughter and the dog. "Listen girl; I wasn't supposed to find out, she forgave me because it was an accident that I heard everything, but if she finds out that you know... she'll kill me and give my calaca to some medical school."

"I think everyone's overreacting today..."

"You don't know her well enough! Let's just say, to give you an idea, but Ronnie behaves much better than her mother at her age, you know what I mean?" a shiver ran down the girl's spine as she imagined her aunt as a mini-mobster.

As they walked a few more blocks in a semi-straight line, a thick, hot air began to embrace them.

"And then I asked your father to bring some bottles of a good whine after he picked Carlitos up from the nursery... you know, to celebrate the good news."

"Wait... I thought Aunt Maria's reconciliation with her ex-husband was a secret!" The new wave of laughter was cut short by the sight before them of a horrible scenery: the whole block where they lived was on fire. "Mother... stay here."

After throwing the dog leash to Frida, Carlota ran like many other people to help those trapped in the shops on the ground floor of the building. The general response to help the victims was not strange to the young woman, after all, many people from different places of origin had been living in the same place for years.

An anonymous voice that sounded extremely familiar to Carlota shouted from behind the crowd, "Somebody call for help!" as she and Georgia entered the Nakamura's Chinese laundry. Inside, thanks mostly to Nelson's unrestrained barking, the two young women found Cory, Mr. Nakamura's only son, unconscious from the smoke.

As the two women struggled to lift the dazed teenager, an electrical explosion a block below stopped the altruistic actions for a moment, the mysterious blast was enough motivation for the two girls to lift the Asian boy up and out in seconds. Outside, a small group of firefighters and paramedics had already arrived at the scene and coordinated to a greater extent by her father, who had just arrived. Carlos, seeing his daughter struggling with Cory's weight, handed her his little brother and without a word carried the Asian teenager to a stretcher himself.

"Go to your mother, está en el restaurante de Don Filliponio!"

Walking as fast as panic would allow, Carlota crossed the crowded avenue and stopped in front of the old Italian food place, hugging her mother in terror.

"Mom, what happened?" With tears in their eyes, both women realized that the flames that were beginning to break the walls and windows of their building were also beginning to spread to the surrounding buildings. "What was that explosion?"

"We don't know, your father says that maybe it was a transformer, but the light hasn't gone out in the restaurant or any other business," fearing that she wanted to go back to help fight the fire, Frida firmly grabbed her daughter with both arms, preventing her from even moving from her place. "¡Y tú ya no vas a ningún pinche lado! we don't know if the building is going to collapse or...!"

The words died in the Latin artist's throat as she watched out of the corner of her eye as a muscular, orange-clad man hovered several feet above the street with the wires that fed the entire block of electrical power in his hands. Without seeming to be particularly difficult, the mysterious flying man snapped the wires he was holding in two and an instant later all the lights on the entire block went out.

As fewer people exited the old residence engulfed in flames, more hands went to evacuate the adjacent buildings, which were also beginning to catch fire, so only a few people had noticed the strange being hovering above their heads, or at least that was until nearly half a dozen improvised rescuers and trained firefighters began to hear several thumps on the top of the building and feel small shards of concrete falling from the rooftop.

"The roof is thundering!" shouted a fireman without thinking of the consequences of his words.

"The whole thing is going to explode!" Mrs. Kernicky shrieked as she stumbled out of the burning building with a grimace of horror, apparently the huge duffel bag she was carrying on one shoulder didn't stop the old woman from running away screaming. "RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"

Suddenly, possessed by panic, everyone, firefighters, paramedics and volunteers alike, sped away from the burning building, forming a circle of several meters in radius between them and the building. The most affected, though none like Mrs. Kernicky, even fled in panic to the opposite sidewalk or a few blocks away. Everyone expected to see something like a huge fireball come through all the windows, as well as the roof of the four-story building, but what no one was prepared for was to see something like what was in front of them.

The same man dressed in orange that the Casagrande women had seen flying over the improvised group of rescuers and firefighters for only an instant, now carried over his head one of the huge tanks that supplied water to the burning building as if the nearly ten thousand liters of liquid didn't offer enough challenge to his strength. To the general astonishment of all present, the man poured the precious liquid over the building and thanks to that simple act he managed to extinguish the fire almost entirely.

Before anyone could get over their surprise, at least enough to approach and enter the weakened building, the muscular man literally flew in through a window and moments later took out four of the six men in suits who had burst in nearly half an hour earlier.

The whole distressing situation seemed to have been resolved, the panic and despair of everyone present turned in a matter of seconds to astonishment when they saw him re-enter the building only to emerge once more and descend with the last people who had been trapped in the fire, a chubby teenager hanging from his back and a woman in his arms. Some of the former tenants even began to thank their various gods for sending them this mysterious savior, each of course in their respective languages and tongues.

As soon as the orange-clad guy's feet touched the ground, everyone present allowed themselves to relax a little and give even more words of thanks to providence for that miracle in the form of a muscular white-haired man, everyone... everyone except Frida Casagrande, she could recognize anywhere the horrible pair of hairy slippers that the injured woman had on when the paramedics put her in an ambulance and left the place.

As the resident artist collapsed in thick tears in the arms of her stunned husband and firstborn, her second child asked a question that would forever be recorded on Cory Nakamura's phone:

"Who are you?"

More people began to approach the impressive savior, surrounding him with thanks and praise, so the response came choppy and brief to the cell phone camera.

"Call me... Thunder."

-o-

The prolonged screeching sound, caused by the passing of three ambulances in a row, gave Ronnie Anne a headache. As she blinked several times the young chicana felt some tears fill her eyelids and bring a little relief to her dry eyes, as she blinked one last time she also noticed that the mist that enveloped her eyes and her mind was finally beginning to dissolve, allowing her to see again and think clearly once more, as she tried to pass saliva she also realized that her throat was very sore and dry.

Her skin was parched, stiff, almost consumed like old leather from the obvious lack of water. Strangely exhausted, Ronalda shook off the ash that covered her completely and discovered that she wasn't wearing her hoodie either, had she lost it? «¿Qué no te acuerdas? ¿Chicharrón?» as soon as she heard that strange voice speak to her in Spanish inside her head, the girl remembered seeing a woman without a face, without a soul... devoured from the inside, struggling against the current of an inclement river with the sole purpose of comforting a little girl.

She also felt as if she had slept for an eternity, but now she felt truly awake, the owner of complete lucidity, the world before her seemed to her impossibly beautiful, almost as if everything before her had been created for her sole benefit and pleasure, even if all she could see for the moment was ash and smoke.

When crossing a pedestrian crossing, Ronnie noticed that a man dressed in a white tuxedo was looking at her. Nervous, the Latina didn't think of doing anything else but returning the red-haired man's gaze, although upon closer inspection he seemed to be just an old white coat, although very shiny. The man with the little red moustache only smiled at her with his watery, itchy eyes before putting a monocle over his right eye, taking his cane, turning around and disappearing into a tobacco shop.

why I keep translating this shit? 'cause you're worth it
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