Judí

I´m beat. And Judí is sleeping over. Or rather he is sleeping over inside my house.

As I go to unlock my door I look and see Judí lying there. I´m kind of glad he was there and it happened like this. He forced me to do something and I really only had one choice. Maybe he knew that. And maybe I don´t blame him. My front poarch is hard and cold. Although he did fit himself in there just perfectly. Good thing he´s small for a 14 year old. If he really is 14.

I remember saying to myself when I saw the dirty canvas and sack lying there empty and indented the other morning that it had to be a muchacho. Great I thought. So much easier for my conscious huh? I was half way hoping it would be a drunk old man. Then I could shoo him off... at least I think I could.

So I went to investigating, which consisted of sneaking a peak through the downward folded shutters to the opposite end of the poarch. It was 5:30 am and I was hiding. Hiding him from myself. Right? He knew I lived here. He obviously didn´t have any shame in sleeping on someone elses poarch, right? He wasn´t hiding from me.

He finally turned. And I see who it is. It´s Judí. Covered in that dirty canvas I´ve never moved from my poarch since I got there. His face sticking out just enough to tell me it´s him. His face and frame sleeping just like it should. He was dreaming. And I could hear him snoring. Like a kid should. A muchacho. A niño. But then it was so horribly twisted. And feo. And I wanted to cry. And hug him. But I was still hiding.

Now Judí sleeps. On the air matress next to my bed. And he snores litghtly.