Autor:    Henry Andrés Ballesteros Leal

IT WILL PASS

The raindrops get bigger and more intense.

The mother looks at the sky with her boiling being, next to her there are her three children.

Despite the thick undergrowth, they must be careful not to move. The beasts remain vigilant on the hill.

The screams and cries are no longer heard.

The water appeased the fire.

Muisca breathes hard, his eyes are red with rage. His mother hugs him, trying to calm him down.

—What did we do?

—Nothing, son, calm down.

The criminals take out the Cacique of town by kicking him. They yell at him. They lay him on the mud and they cut him, and cut him, and cut him. He, brave, looks at them steady. He looks lovingly at his family. He wrinkles his face in pain, but all the strength in his spirit. They yell louder.

—What do they want? —Zenú asks.

—Gold —Muisca replies—, that´s what the traitor who came with them told us.

—All this for the gold! —Quimbaya expresses with all the pain— Do they eat it?

—I don´t know.

—How strange —says Zenú.

—Yes, how strange.

The tears fall silently. Suffocation.

The Cacique feels the soil, closes his eyes. The eagle flies.

The rain has stopped.

The mother tells her children to be silent.

—Let´s close our eyes and think of something nice.

One of the assassins approaches with his sword cutting what he finds in his path.

They remember the games in the fields, the funny moments in the river, the music, the dances, the celebrations, the laughter, the stories of the grandparents, the family, the corn growing.

He throws a sword that passes very close.

In the distance they see them leaving with their wild walk. They take several of the family against their will.

They cry disconsolate, the mother cries for her beloved who is no longer here, and the children cry for their father who is no longer there, and they cry for their grandparents, their family, their people.

—Mom, what now?

—We are here now, and we will still be here.

—What if they come back?

—They will return ... but evil does not last forever.

—But, Mom, they are very strong.

—We are stronger.

Quimbaya takes out a knife and clenches it in his fist.

—No, son.

They hug.

They get up, walk, move forward, live.