Liberada 



Whatever happened to Liberada? and, how did she come to get that name? 'Liberada' means 'delivered', in the sense of 'rescued'. Probably something to do with the bible, or perhaps she was an adopted foundling or something of the sort.

She lived with Uncle Julio and Auntie ... oh, what was her name, now. She was a constant presence when we were kids, filling in the role of the kindly elderly auntie, sweet to us.... Bianca, that was her name. Auntie Bianca she was: very white of skin, a sort of pallor with red blotches probably caused by menopause although we thought she was much older than that.... and a sad look in her eyes

Liberada was twenty something, pretty although not perhaps exactly beautiful -there is a difference. Her features weren't perfect but sort of came in together very well and she was very attractive. But then she would have been very attractive to the seventeen-year old flavio, with raging hormones and a starving sex drive whilst being so lacking in social skills. And she teased me, smiled with that glint in her eye, flirted with me, ever such a lot, which sent me crawling up the walls.

She sometimes stayed in my grandfather's bedroom upstairs. I could her giggling and chatting well into the night, i would come out into the tiny little inner patio, see the door closed upstairs, the moon bathing it all with its cold ghostly blue light. I would get a bit closer, at the bottom of the stairs, straining to hear what i didn't want to hear, in the clutches of unformed desire and a jealousy that couldn't find an object -how could i be jealous of my eighty five year old grandfather? Even if he was far more active and strong than I was and of course he was a man while I was hardly more than a little boy. All these things and many others went through my head in front of that closed door behind which bolts of giggles would burst out in the night while I was downstairs in the so-called patio bathing myself in the silver blue light of the moon of ghosts and unfulfilled desires

She was basically an Andino girl transplanted to Caracas, having quickly become streetwise but at the same time having remained a peasant girl. She wore different dresses to every other girl on the street, her shiny wavy jet black hair sometimes with a flower on it. She had lovely shapely legs as yet undamaged by the domestic work. And she had bright, intelligent, mischievous eyes that at the same time promised and teased.

I wasn't in love with her. She was too old for me, postively ancient at around twenty-five, or so i thought. But I lusted after her with the intensity of a seventeen year old with few outlets for the hormonal volcano of that age. And she knew it -would she not know it? and enjoyed the cat and mouse game, the chess game of seduction at which I was (and still am) woefully incompetent and at which she had both more natural skill and more experience.

Not a lot happened. There wasn't actual sex, as in making love, although there was much sexual playing and foreplay. Of course it was too long ago and only rusty crumbling memories remain of times in the kitchen of that flat in El Silencio, that place that felt unchanged since the 1910's or perhaps the 19th Century. There was always Blanca sitting in the living room , ostensibly listening to the radio with face turned away from us and the mirror in which we could see her and, I presume, she could see us as well.. Oh, the intensity of those innocent games of mutual touching and discovering and exploring.

I wonder why nothing major (meaning copulation) happened. How come it didn't happen any of those times we were playing on the bed for hours, mutual masturbation and non-stop touching notwithstanding.

I was innocent and was already possessed by demons. I would leave the flat in El Silencio and walk the dangerous st reets of central Caracas in the night, looking up dodgy doorways with red lights, some over-made up middle aged woman smoking at the door saying with a sarcastic, tone, dismissive of the young kid obviously too young and penniless, 'would you like to have a look upstairs?' but i would just carry on walking and walking, burning inner fire and energy for which there were no outlet, So I would walk and walk, playing with the twenty-five centimes coin that would eventually get me back to Los Magallanes in a packed noisy smelly bus full of what seemed to me ugly, sour-smelling evil looking people... 

Posted: Sun - December 21, 2003 at 12:44 PM          


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