The Samurai’s Sword

Javi examined the samurai that his father had given him. It had only a silver ball for a head, with no features, its legs open and arched, under a red and black uniform, and brandishing a metal sword in attack position.  He held some admiration for the figure ever since he saw it alone in the cupboard. It wasn't bigger than his hand, nonetheless, it seemed sure of itself, implacable, resolute. He stroked the peach fuzz on his upper lip as the steam caused the pan to agitate and hiss. Javi hurried. He wiped the dust off the shelf with his hand. He placed the samurai on top and turned, limping into the kitchen. He snapped the rag to shoo the flies away. He poured the soup out into the dish and used a spoon to scrape out the carcasses of crimson bugs that floated in it. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and poured it down his throat. He prepared the tray.

            It was strange that his dad had not yelled for the food. Javi went down the stairs, feeling a creak each time he placed his foot on a tread. The drops of sweat blurred his vision. The possibility of spilling the liquids terrified him. If he felt any disequilibrium he paused for a moment on the step, avoiding the loose banister.

            As he stood in front of the basement door, his body shook. He heard only silence. He took a deep breath and his father opened the door before he had a chance to knock. His shirt was caked with grease spots and his eyes bulging. Javi showed his teeth with a wince. He handed him the tray.

            —Shhh! be quiet! She’s asleep.

            Javi tried to remain erect as his father inspected the food, scratching his potbelly. The stuffed bunny was thrown under the table, dirty and torn. He noticed his sister and he wet himself. She lay in the fetal position on the wool mattress thrown on the floor. A bloody bruise went across her ribs, her bare buttocks showing. Under her matted hair one could make out the burn on her shoulder. She seemed like a wax figure, fake and inert.

            —Go away!

            Javi felt a fleeting sense of relief and closed the door softly. When he got to his room he vomited suddenly. He grabbed the samurai and threw himself on the bed examining it. The figure seemed sure of himself, implacable, resolute. He opened the drawer and tossed it in the back.


This is an authorized translation of the short story which appears in the collection I Know Your Secrets, published in Madrid, Spain by Jimena Tierra, 2017 under the Spanish title Conozco tus secretos. Translation by Abraham Henson