"When Orula chooses you, take his hand because... Orula is never wrong"
That Sunday seemed to be the blackest in the "Los Matungos" neighborhood, no one dared to intervene, because everyone knew that between Ruperto and Gerardo there was no other end than blood and death. The fate of those men: the first white, the second black, lived sentenced for months in the burning flavor caused by the swaying of the most sensual hips in the city: the hips of the mulatta María, popularly known as "La candela" .
By the time the police arrived, the tragedy would have been consummated. In the heads of these two men, only one thought reigned with absolute certainty: _ "That female is mine."__, and each one defended his right over that woman, who had them spellbound to the point of summoning them to war. A miracle was needed, something or someone capable of finding peace between two irreconcilable adversaries.
__“If she came…”__, said John, __“If he appeared…”__, Josefa murmured, __"Where could it be…?"__, prayed Pedro, and thus, in one way or another, everyone called her with their thoughts, and when the thought of a neighborhood is even, a miracle happens.
They saw her arrive with her elegant and leisurely walk, as if haste were the enemy of sanity and success. A shared emotion flooded the collective mind of the neighborhood, which inwardly screamed her name:
__ Daisy flower! __
A common lady and at the same time distinguished by a special aura, that was Margarita, beyond her intelligence, that natural power to refresh any violent head, came to dominate that war scene. Without asking for permission, she stood between Ruperto and Gerardo, stretched out her arms touching each one's chest and nothing else, the good magic penetrated them, leaving them still, almost static, while with her gaze she glared at the mocking attitude of María who, unable to holding her, she opted to lock herself in her room scared to death.
No one ever knew what healing words Margarita used to appease the anger of those two contenders, but the result spoke for them. From that day on, Ruperto and Gerardo maintained a beautiful relationship that over time became a sincere friendship, when María's belly swelled up like a balloon, neither questioned the paternity of the other, when the baby was born, both took care of providing for it, and when La candela moved the hips of a French tourist, winning a permanent and prohibited visa for newborns, to the Eiffel Tower, they became, more than by law, out of shared love, the guardians of that little half-breed, so similar to one like the other.
No, those words were never known, but it was not necessary, because if they came from the voice of Margarita, then they were coined with "The hand of Orula", believers like Juan knew it, who years ago he advised not to use that medicinal soap anymore if he wanted to find his great love, and as soon as he changed it he met Rosita, his beloved chubby, so did unbelievers like Josefa, determined to reach one hundred years old and that secretly has not stopped taking that herbal syrup casually recommended for a single day, not to mention fanatics like Pedro, unable to define himself by a religion, but always attentive to every detail left by the lady dressed in green and yellow to, as she likes to say: steal a bit of luck and have a better life.
That Sunday, in the Los Matungos neighborhood, blood did not paint the walls, on the contrary, it marked the beginning of a new breath in the lives of its children.abitaearlier, happier and more fulfilled, partly thanks to the invisible influence of Margarita, who, with the usual simplicity, does not hesitate to reject any compliment saying:
__ "Only heaven knows who will be saved." __
And although no one understands that phrase, it doesn't matter, everyone celebrates having it with them as a protective amulet and a magnet for good vibes, she says nothing, silently enjoying the joy of the one who is also her neighborhood, revealing to herself the meaning of those phrases. such important words, because they contain the name of who is considered the first prophet of the Yoruba religion: Orula.
“I appetized", that's what they call women consecrated with the hand of Orula.