La trágica vida del Cachetes / The Tragic Life of Cachetes

Donde yo crecí, las cosas no se ven como se pintan en la cultura popular estadounidense. No hay bravucones con chaquetas, ni fiestas con mujeres en bikini, y mucho menos movimientos de drogas y dealers; sé que ese estereotipo es muy de película, pero la realidad del entorno donde me crié era diferente.

Where I grew up, things aren't like they're portrayed in American popular culture. There are no tough guys in jackets, no parties with women in bikinis, and certainly no drug dealing; I know that stereotype is very much from the movies, but the reality of the environment where I was raised was different.

Tenía un grupo de amigos y cada cierto tiempo nos reuníamos a fumar. El problema principal es que, como el concepto de "dealer" no existía, si querías comprar, tenías que ir a un barrio superpeligroso y llegar directamente a la casa del vendedor. Además, no te vendían si no te conocían.

I had a group of friends, and we'd get together to smoke every now and then. The main problem was that, since the concept of a "dealer" didn't exist, if you wanted to buy, you had to go to a really dangerous neighborhood and go directly to the dealer's house. Plus, they wouldn't sell to you if they didn't know you.

En ese momento entra el "Cachetes". Era un tipo alto, de cabello largo y gran fumador; rara vez lo veía sin un cigarro en la mano. Era extraño, porque lo conocimos siendo un "friki" que amaba los mismos juegos de computadora que nosotros. Era como un "friki malandro"; realmente es la mejor manera de definirlo.

That's when "Cachetes" came in. He was a tall guy with long hair and a heavy smoker; I rarely saw him without a cigarette in his hand. It was strange, because we knew him as a "geek" who loved the same computer games as we did. He was like a "gangster geek"; that's really the best way to describe him.

Nos conoció en los cybercafés y, a pesar de que al principio nos daba cierto miedo, siempre terminaba jugando con nosotros y hablando de estrategias.

He met us in cybercafés and, although at first he scared us a little, he always ended up playing with us and talking about strategies.

Una vez, le di dinero como de costumbre para que comprara antes de reunirnos, pero desapareció por tres días. Nos preocupamos bastante, porque no solía hacer eso. Recuerdo que cuando lo vi de nuevo, llevaba la misma ropa de aquel día: estaba sucia, manchada como con cloro, y él tenía un aspecto deplorable.

Once, I gave him money as usual to buy things before we met, but he disappeared for three days. We were quite worried because he didn't usually do that. I remember when I saw him again, he was wearing the same clothes as that day: they were dirty, stained as if with bleach, and he looked terrible.

Lo vi impresionado y le pregunté qué le había pasado. Se sentó en la acera, encendió un cigarro y me contó que, cuando estaba en camino, una patrulla de policías lo detuvo, lo metieron a la fuerza en el carro y lo llevaron a la estación. Allí lo interrogaron por unos robos que estaban pasando en la zona. Como él lo negaba todo, empezaron a golpearlo salvajemente. Me dijo: "Son muy inteligentes, mira; ellos saben dónde tienen que golpear". En ese momento se subió la camisa y tenía toda la espalda y las costillas moradas, llenas de raspaduras. Después de eso, no lo vi por un tiempo.

He looked shaken and I asked him what had happened. He sat down on the sidewalk, lit a cigarette, and told me that while he was on his way, a police patrol stopped him, forced him into the car, and took him to the station. There, they interrogated him about some robberies that were happening in the area. Since he denied everything, they started beating him savagely. He told me, "They're very clever, look; they know where to hit." At that moment, he lifted his shirt, and his entire back and ribs were purple and covered in scrapes. After that, I didn't see him for a while.

Pasados unos meses, alguien tocó a mi casa. Al abrir, lo vi. Era el Cachetes, con una cámara en la mano y unos dólares. Me preguntó si tenía interés en comprarle algo. Al ver los billetes, solté una carcajada: "Esos son dólares trinitarios, no dólares estadounidenses". Él pensó un poco y me enseñó la cámara; era una de esas digitales antiguas. Le dije que no, y seguidamente le pregunté de dónde había sacado eso.

A few months later, someone knocked on my door. When I opened it, I saw him. It was Cachetes, with a camera in his hand and some dollars. He asked if I was interested in buying something. When I saw the bills, I burst out laughing: "Those are Trinidadian dollars, not US dollars." He thought for a moment and showed me the camera; it was one of those old digital ones. I told him no, and then I asked him where he got it.

El Cachetes era una persona extraña, extremadamente sincera conmigo. Sin pensarlo, me contó que él, junto con dos amigos, habían entrado a una casa y solo eso habían conseguido. Me confesó que tenía tiempo entrando a casas, pero que debía hacerlo en tiempos espaciados. Me dijo que cada vez que robaban, se escondían unos tres días y cada quien se quedaba con lo que lograra sacar.

Cachetes was a strange person, extremely honest with me. Without hesitation, he told me that he and two friends had broken into a house and that was all they'd gotten away with. He confessed that he'd been breaking into houses for a while, but that he had to do it only occasionally. He said that each time they robbed someone, they'd hide for about three days, and each of them would keep whatever they managed to steal.

Después de ese día, comencé a ver al Cachetes con otros ojos. Pasó de ser un muchacho en malos pasos a un ladrón que estaba pendiente de nuestras pertenencias y que, en cualquier momento, nos podía robar. Ya dejaba de ser el "friki" para convertirse en un malandro completamente. El grupo de amigos que había conseguido para delinquir ya tenía mala fama. No sé si son cosas mías, pero su mirada y sus expresiones habían cambiado: se veía más seco, con una mirada perdida y apática. Ya no hablaba de juegos, ni hablaba con nadie que no fueran los tres malandrines que lo seguían a todos lados.

After that day, I started seeing Cachetes in a different light. He went from being a troubled kid to a thief who kept an eye on our belongings and could rob us at any moment. He stopped being the "freak" and became a full-fledged thug. The group of friends he'd made to commit crimes with already had a bad reputation. I don't know if it's just me, but his gaze and expressions had changed: he looked colder, with a lost and apathetic stare. He no longer talked about games, nor did he speak to anyone except the three thugs who followed him everywhere.

Me hizo recordar una de las veces que nos reunimos a fumar. Lo hacíamos en casa de Miguel, cuya casa era gigante; podíamos ir al estacionamiento, sentarnos en el suelo atrás de los carros, fumar y hablar por horas mientras veíamos las estrellas. Ese día, el Cachetes nos contó que su papá antes era un gran narcotraficante; tenía guardias en su casa y todos le tenían miedo. Hasta que, un día, sus propios guardias lo traicionaron, lo torturaron frente a su rival, le sacaron los ojos y luego le dispararon en la cabeza. Él apenas era un niño cuando eso pasó. Después, fue a vivir a la casa de su abuela, que se hizo cargo de él a pesar de ser muy humilde.

Recuerdo que, de repente, dejó de hablar, vio hacia el cielo, inhaló con fuerza su cigarro y nos dijo: "Si eso no hubiera pasado, hoy yo sería el dueño de esta casa, de estos carros". No sé por qué, pero ese momento siempre retumba con fuerza en mi cabeza.

It reminded me of one of the times we got together to smoke. We'd do it at Miguel's house, which was huge; we could go out to the parking lot, sit on the ground behind the cars, smoke, and talk for hours while we looked at the stars. That day, Cachetes told us that his father used to be a big-time drug trafficker; he had guards at his house, and everyone was afraid of him. Until one day, his own guards betrayed him, tortured him in front of his rival, gouged out his eyes, and then shot him in the head. He was just a kid when that happened. Afterward, he went to live with his grandmother, who took care of him despite being very poor.

I remember that, suddenly, he stopped talking, looked up at the sky, inhaled deeply from his cigarette, and said to us, "If that hadn't happened, today I'd own this house, these cars." I don't know why, but that moment always echoes loudly in my head.

Pasaron los meses. Ya me había olvidado del Cachetes; fue fácil, ya que no lo vimos más en los cybers ni en ningún lugar. Simplemente, desapareció. Un día, llegando a casa, mi mamá me estaba esperando; me llamó de manera muy calmada y me contó que habían encontrado al Cachetes y a dos más tirados en un monte, en un área rural. La hipótesis era que los encontraron robando en una finca y los dueños se encargaron de ellos. Estaban tirados boca abajo, con las manos amarradas con alambre y sin camisas. La noticia me corrió por el espinazo y me dejó helado. No supe qué pensar, no supe qué decir.

Months passed. I'd already forgotten about Cachetes; it was easy, since we never saw him again at internet cafes or anywhere else. He simply vanished. One day, when I got home, my mom was waiting for me. She called me over very calmly and told me that Cachetes and two others had been found lying in the woods in a rural area. The theory was that they'd been caught stealing on a farm and the owners had taken care of them. They were lying face down, their hands tied with wire, and shirtless. The news sent a chill down my spine. I didn't know what to think, what to say.

Nadie quiso reclamar al Cachetes en la morgue; nadie lo quiso en vida, mucho menos muerto. Mi prima estaba casada con un familiar lejano de él, quien fue el único que se dignó a reclamarlo. Nos contó que, al llegar a la morgue, el cuerpo estaba en la camilla, ya en estado de descomposición y lleno de moscas. El encargado le preguntó si él era su familiar; al confirmar, llenó un balde de agua, lo arrojó sobre el cuerpo para espantar las moscas y que se lo pudiera llevar la funeraria. Un final tan triste y precario como toda la vida del Cachetes.

No one wanted to claim Cachetes at the morgue; no one wanted him alive, much less dead. My cousin was married to a distant relative of his, who was the only one who bothered to claim him. He told us that when they arrived at the morgue, the body was on the gurney, already decomposing and covered in flies. The attendant asked him if he was a relative; when he confirmed, he filled a bucket of water, threw it over the body to shoo away the flies so the funeral home could take it. An end as sad and precarious as Cachetes' entire life.