I’m not going to turn him into a monster because he isn’t one. Or perhaps I should say that he wasn’t always one.
When we were young, he was a hardworking, cheerful, and generous man. For years we had little money, and he never let anyone leave our house hungry. However, when his small construction business started to do well, Alberto slowly changed.
He began to measure people by what they had.
Because of his car.
Her clothes.
His profession.
The neighborhood where they lived.
I pointed it out to him.
—You weren’t like this before.
He would reply:
—Before, I didn’t understand how the world worked.
That Saturday we had gone to a large supermarket because we were expecting guests.
That’s where the young woman appeared.
Her name, although we didn’t know it yet,
was Lucia.
She was wearing sweatpants, an oversized jacket, and her hair was haphazardly pulled back. The baby was asleep, wrapped in a gray blanket.
When she asked for help, Alberto didn’t even ask what had happened.
He just looked her up and down and decided he knew her whole life.
After I handed her the money, Lucia looked at me in surprise.
—Ma’am, I don’t need that much.
—Buy what you need for the child.
—I can give you back the rest.
—It’s not necessary.
Then he did something I still remember.
He took a pen out of his backpack and wrote something on the back of a receipt.
—At least give me your phone number.
I denied it.
—You don’t need to give me anything back.
Her eyes filled with
tears.
—It’s not about giving him back his money.
He put the paper away.
—I wanted to thank you when I can think clearly.
Before leaving, she looked at Alberto.
I was hoping he would say something.
He didn’t.
He just left.
My husband shook his head.
—I’m sure he’ll be doing the same thing at another store tomorrow.
