The Enchanted Pond

By Jorge Aliaga Cacho


Anne Hogarth

Edinburgh, 1982. Translated by Anne Hogarth.

The town rocks in the wind along the beaches and the edge of the sea before colliding with the mountains. From the Cuyas’ hotel, you can see the mountains, with Inca remains nestled in the slopes. Behind these hills is a beach, inaccessible from flatlands, shut in by these great mounds of sand and stones. The beach is called La Honda and is the ancient route of the fishermen and salt collectors who go to dig out the mineral from its surrounding mountains.

The other beach, open and dangerous, stretches within; its waves seem to punish the sins of the towns, the priest who abandoned his parish, the tomb-robbers who profane the past, the history, the present of their town. On the beach the wind is more churlish, making play with the sand and scouring the faces of the people. The fishermen protect themselves with scarves used every night which the angry wind plucks

Chilca is full of legends and true tales. Storytelling is part of life itself. They say that the pond is enchanted and that during the night a beautiful woman emerges from its waters, revealing her body with unbridled lust and that the men are lured by her. They found Huapaya dead, with his face in the air, unsatisfied. Who is she?, perhaps the bride who was jilted at the church door and who now, as vengeance against the men of Chilca, appears every year in her mortal lasciviousness.

Who is she? The fishermen ask themselves. Her dress is tight, they say, and her hair flows in the clear night air caressing her back and well-turned shoulders. Brave men hide behind the fig trees. Nato is afraid. She laughs, gathers her hair and twists it up onto her head. Curious they draw near. She arches her body and opens her legs. She loosens her hair over her threatening breasts and a weak, gaping man is overcome. She laughs and runs her hand over her hips. Another feeble gaper succumbs, stuttering forward. She takes delight in drawing near to the male and now he cannot control himself. His eyes blaze and he can only watch the firm thighs of the female. She walks, leaves the water, her thighs two pendulous glistening earrings. She embraces him and draws him into the depths of death.