Leopard in the Sun

"That guy over there, sitting with the blonde, that's Nando Barragan." Word runs quickly through the dimly lit bar. It's him, Nando Barragan. A hundred eyes steal furtive glances at him. Fifty mouths speak his name. "There he is. He's one of them." Wherever the Barragans go, they are followed by murmuring, cursed through clenched teeth, secretly admired, deeply hated. They live on constant display. No longer allowed to be themselves, they have become what people say and think about them, living legends, constructed from the lies told about them. Their lives are no longer their own, but have become public domain. They are idolized, repudiated, imitated, and, most of all, feared. "Sitting there at the bar, that's the boss, Nando Barragan." The words glide across the dance floor, passing from table to table, and are multiplied in the mirrors on the ceiling. The palpable fear is diminished somewhat by the black lights, but a sharp tension cuts through the clouds of smoke, disrupting the tempo of the boleros coming from the jukebox. Couples stop dancing. The beams of light from the mirrored balls glow blue and violet, warning of danger. Palms become sweaty and hair on the backs of necks stands up. Ignoring the whispers and detached from the commotion that his presence produces, Nando Barragan, huge and yellow-skinned, smokes a Pielroja cigarette as he sits on a tall stool at the bar. "What color is his skin?" "Burned yellow, just like his brothers'." His face is pocked with holes as if he had been attacked by birds, and his nearsighted eyes are hidden behind black Ray-Bans with reflective lenses. A greasy T-shirt shows beneath his guayabera shirt. From a heavy chain over the ample chest, hairless and glistening with sweat, a solid gold cross of Caravaca, heavy and powerful, hangs ostentatiously. "The Barragans all wear the cross of Caravaca. It's their good luck charm. They use it to ask for money, health, love, and happiness." "They may ask for all four things, but the cross brings them only money. The others, they've never had and they never will." Next to Nando, on another stool, a corpulent, formidable blonde crosses her legs provocatively. She is squeezed tightly into a black elastic bodysuit, a disco mesh, through which a large amount of mature skin and a satin bra, size 40C, can be seen. Her colorless, plain eyes are heavy with mascara, eyeliner, and shadow. She throws her head back and her long blond hair whips her back like stiff straw, revealing black roots. Moving with the sensuality of an alley cat, she has the mysterious dignity of an ancient goddess. Nando Barragan looks at her adoringly and his crude warrior's heart melts drop by drop, like a holy taper burning on an altar. "The years have been kind to you. You're beautiful, Milena. Just like you alwaRestrepo, Laura is the author of 'Leopard in the Sun' with ISBN 9780609603864 and ISBN 0609603868.