Santiago's Forgiveness

By Facundo Barrera

Santiago will ask for forgiveness, but only one person in the world will be able to forgive him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Facundo Barrera
• Release date: Apr 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9789995904722

Facundo Barrera

Gemini 2.0

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Santiago’s Forgiveness

By Facundo Agustín Barrera

Smashwords edition

Copyright © 2019 Facundo Agustín Barrera

Santiago’s Forgiveness.

By Facundo Agustín Barrera

ISBN 978-99959-0-472-2

About this edition: Translation done in April 2019 from the original work El perdón de Santiago Published in March of 2013 (ISBN 978-987-33-3132-9)

The contents and information of the work are fictitious and any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental.

Any form of reproduction, distribution, public communication or transformation of this work can only be done with the authorization of its owners, except as otherwise provided by law. Contact the author at [e-mail] if you need to copy or print this work.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-License

SinDerivadas 3.0 Unported. To see a copy of this license, visit

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

Contact

CHAPTER ONE

I, Santiago second, son of Santiago first lived in a town far from the capital. We had a small house, like all the houses in this unknown place. My father was in his wheelchair and never seemed to feel comfortable in it. My brother, unique and younger; had some learning disabilities, that my mother never learned to handle (of course, my father neither). Money was scarce and having turned 18, it was time to have a serious job. Work in the mines was the only serious job someone with my preparation could do; and in any case, it was the only occupation that could pay enough to live under a roof, or at least help sustain a family. So far I, Santiago second, wasn’t more than a simple student with some work under my belt, but nothing with the magnitude of working in the mine.

I was selected for the autumn season, three months away from my house; I would make more money than they would have paid in one or maybe two years of any miserable job in this remote and forgotten place.

I always dreamed to be a famous inventor, make my own balloons and fly through the air, as Santos-Dumont; although in reality, fate has taken me down and not up. After all, there wasn’t much else to do at this place. If I didn’t work in the mine, I might keep my legs (which my father couldn’t do) but, although I would be able to walk, I wouldn’t have anywhere to go. Without money, you cannot survive in this place.

When I boarded the bus that would take me to my new job, I noticed that the vehicle was crowded. We were all going to work at the same place. The fall mining season was booming and companies took people on quantities. As I sat in that seat, I thought almost instantly in the minutes of farewell with my family. My mother with an expression of like father like son, my father with an expression of I would do whatever it takes for you to not go there, and my brother with just a face of: I don’t understand what's going on here. A kind of tear formed in my left irritated eye.

When we stopped at a red light I noticed that a woman was arguing with another older woman, shouting. There was a man sitting in a pickup truck by their side, ignoring the situation.

The van went ahead with the green light. I mumbled my first words of conversation:

-Today is going to be one of those days, isn’t it? - I said to the man sitting beside me.

-Yes, and it just started.- He said.

-Nice to meet you, I’m Santiago.- I added extending my hand.

-Santiago, I'm Mario, nice to meet you. - He replied while shaking my hand, then he added:

-Tell me, have you noticed those two women arguing before?

-Yes, of course, they were screaming loud.

-Well, it reminded me of my two daughters, the youngest is 18 and the oldest 31, they live from argument to argument.

-I don’t have children but I imagine it must be difficult.- I said. He sighed deeply:

-More difficult is when you