The dictaphone

It was Ignacio, as it could not be otherwise, the one who discovered the small package. It was this way because it was always him the one to check the mail.

Ignacio Torres was a young hispanic adolescent born in USA, but his parents crossed the frontier in search of a better life years ago. His mother achieved that better life with a lot of effort and suffering. His father, instead, died in a traffic accident about 5 years ago. Ignacio, “Nacho” for friends, was too young to be conscient of what that meant at that time. His older brother, Louis, toke the rol of the family man. Everyone matured fast since then, but Louis finally found a well paid work abroad and left them behind. Nacho did not blame him. Now there were just he and his mother.

-Mom, where you waiting for something?

-No

-We have a curious package... –he said, frowning when he saw the strange message without sender. His mother said nothing, she was without glasses and could read nothing- I wonder what it’s in it.

When he opened the package the dictaphone appeared, a little bit ominous.

-What a extrange thing –said his mother.

-It’s a recorder, to remember things. Writers use them, investigators too. You see them in the movies.

-You keep it, maybe gets useful for your airhead.

-Hahaha, OK mom. “Mi mother is the best in the world” –he recorded in the dictaphone that very moment, humorous- In case I forget, hahaha.