de Juan José Millás
Estaba firmando ejemplares de mi última novela en unos grandes almacenes, cuando llegó una señora con un niño en la mano derecha y mi libro en la izquierda. Me pidió que se lo dedicara mientras el niño lloraba a voz en grito.
-¿Qué le pasa? -pregunté.
-Nada, que quería que le comprara un libro de Drácula y le he dicho que es pequeño para leer esas cosas.
El niño cesó de llorar unos segundos para gritar al universo que no era pequeño y que le gustaba Drácula. Tendría 6 ó 7 años, calculo yo, y al abrir la boca dejaba ver unos colmillos inquietantes, aunque todavía eran los de leche. Yo estaba un poco confuso. Pensé que a un niño que defendía su derecho a leer con tal ímpetu no se le podía negar un libro, aunque fuera de Drácula. De modo que insinué tímidamente a la madre que se lo comprara.
-Su hijo tiene una vocación lectora impresionante. Conviene cultivarla.
-Mi hijo lo que tiene es un ramalazo psicópata que, como no se lo quitemos a tiempo, puede ser un desastre.
Me irritó que confundiera a Drácula con un psicópata y me dije que hasta ahí habíamos llegado.
-Pues si usted no le compra el libro de Drácula al niño, yo no le firmo mi novela -afirmé.
-¿Cómo que no me firma su novela? Ahora mismo voy a buscar al encargado.
Al poco volvió la señora con el encargado que me rogó que firmara el libro, pues para eso estaba allí, para firmar libros, dijo. El niño había dejado de llorar y nos miraba a su madre y a mí sin saber por quién tomar partido. La gente, al oler la sangre, se había arremolinado junto a la mesa. No quería escándalos, de modo que cogí la novela y puse: "A la idiota de Asunción (así se llamaba), con el afecto de Drácula". La mujer leyó la dedicatoria, arrancó la página, la tiró al suelo y se fue. Cuando salían, el pequeño volvió la cabeza y me guiñó un ojo de un modo extremadamente raro. Llevo varios días soñando con él. Quizá llevaba razón su madre.
Dracula and the children by Juan Jose Millas
I was signing copies of my book at some mall, when a lady arrived carrying a child with her right hand and my book with her left hand. She asked me to sign her copy of my book while the child was crying out loud.
- ¿What happens to him? --I asked to her.
- Nothing, he wanted me to buy a book of Dracula for him and I have told him that he is too young to read such things.
The child stopped crying during few seconds just to shout to the Universe that he was not too young and he did like Dracula. He was 6 or 7 years old I calculated and when he opened his mouth, he showed scary fangs, but they were the milk teeth yet. I was a little bit confused. I thought that a child who defended in that way his right to read, must not be denied a book, even a Dracula's book. I suggested --in a timid way-- to the mother that she should buy the book.
- Your son has an impressive reading vocation. It would be better to cultivate it.
- My son has a psychopath impulse, If we don't stop it on time, it may become a disaster.
It irritated me that she thought of Dracula as a psychopath and I told her that it was the end.
- If you don't buy the book of Dracula to the child, I will not sign my novel for you --I said.
- How come that you will not sign your novel for me? I will look for the manager right now.
Few moments later the lady arrived with the manager who begged me to sign the book, because I was there for that, for signing books --he said. The child had stopped crying and stared at her mother and me with no idea for who to take part. The people, at the smell of the blood, had been all around the table. I didn't want any scandal, so I took the novel and signed it: "To the idiot of Asuncion (that was her name), with affection from Dracula". The woman read the signature, ripped off the page, threw it away to the floor and went out. When they were going out, the child turned his head and winked an eye at me in a extremely strange way. I have been dreaming of him during several days. Maybe his mother was right.
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