18

Hielo

Tomó un último aliento, que le provocó punzadas agónicas en los pulmones, y le dedicó ese aire al último esfuerzo consciente del que se vio capaz. Se asió a la roca más cercana para no deslizarse por la pendiente en cuanto perdiese la consciencia mientras se preguntaba de qué le servía, si de todos modos su inevitable destino estaría marcado en el momento en el que cerrase los ojos. El aire era tan frío que notaba la piel agrietarse, sin dolor; y estaba tan cargado de nieve que apenas podía vislumbrar la sombra de sus propias manos, sujetas con dificultad al saliente.

El agotamiento le impidió un arranque de ira y desesperación que habría quemado la poca energía de la que disponía. Sintió levemente cierta pena de sí mismo. ¿Por qué? era lo único en lo que era capaz de centrarse, sólo esas palabras flotaban en su mente de forma intermitente; eran las únicas a las que creyó encontrar cierto sentido, aunque no respuesta.

 

–Te he estado buscando tanto tiempo.

No era la primera vez que oía esa voz o esa misma frase. Se repetía en un bucle infinito a su alrededor, cada vez más cerca, traída por el tiempo y el espacio; y se adhería a su piel como si solamente ella pudiera rescatarlo.

–Te he estado buscando tanto tiempo… Vuelve a mí.

La voz se rompía y aun así emanaba una dulzura apremiante, la ansiedad de ser escuchada. Lo acariciaba incesantemente con sus dedos gastados, y allí donde perdía el contacto las punzadas de dolor provocadas por el frío emergían con crueldad.

Reaccionó con lentitud, con extrañeza; recordaba haberse abandonado a la muerte sin siquiera un último aleteo de falsa victoria y le sorprendía despertar de nuevo. No quiso preguntarse si estaba vivo. Si no lo estaba, se sucederían demasiadas preguntas para su cansado cuerpo y extenuada mente. Quería, en realidad, descansar; pero la voz, eterna y etérea, lo empujó fuera de su ensoñación cuasi febril.

–Te he estado buscando tanto tiempo… Vuelve a mí… No me dejes ahora.

Abrió los ojos sin saber si la voz pertenecía a un cuerpo, apenas atemorizado, y ante sí sólo vio azul. Dos ojos del azul del cielo en una mañana de primavera, brillante y luminosa, cautivadora.

18

Ice

He took one last breath, causing him a deathly stabbing pain in his lungs, and to this air he dedicated the last conscious effort he felt he was capable of. He clung to the nearest rock so he would not slide down the slope as he lost consciousness while asking himself what was the point, if his unavoidable destiny would be marked on the moment he closed his eyes anyway. The air was so cold that he felt his skin chapping, painlessly; and it was so snowy that he could barely glimpse the shadow of his own hands, clasping the outcrop with difficulty.

The exhaustion prevented an outburst of rage and desperation that would have burnt out the little energy he had left. He slightly felt some self-pity. Why? was the only thing he was able to focus on, only this word was floating on his mind intermittently; it was the only one to which he thought he could find some sense, although not an answer.

“I have been looking for you for so long.”

It was not the first time that he had heard that voice or that same sentence. It repeated itself on an infinite loop all around him, closer and closer, brought by time and space; and it stuck to his skin like it was the only thing that could rescue him.

“I have been looking for you for so long… Come back to me.”

The voice broke and still exuded a compelling sweetness, the anxiety to be heard. It incessantly caressed him with its worn fingers and, where it lost contact, the twinges of pain caused by the cold emerged with cruelty.

He reacted slowly, strangely; he remembered having abandoned himself to death without even a last flutter of false victory and was surprised to wake up again. He did not want to wonder if he was alive. If he was not, too many questions would ensue for his tired body and exhausted mind to bear. He actually wanted to rest; but the voice, endless and ethereal, pushed him out of his quasi feverish reverie.

“I have been looking for you for so long… Come back to me… Do not leave me now.”

He opened his eyes without knowing if the voice did actually belong to a body, hardly scared though, and before him he only saw blue. Two blue eyes like the sky on a spring morning, shiny and bright, captivating.