Fajitas

As usual, english version below.

En esos tiempos, comúnmente el que cocinaba en la casa era yo. Cocinaba para Alisa, Luis y para mí. Ese día preparé fajitas, uno de los platillos favoritos de todos en la casa. Las preparé a mediodía y, al terminar, comí solo, ya que los demás no estaban. Alisa no tardó en llegar; fue directo a comer también. Dejamos bastantes fajitas en el sartén, suficientes para que comiera más tarde Luis, al llegar.

Horas después, llegó Luis. Recuerdo que yo estaba arriba en mi cuarto, probablemente jugando LoL estudiando, con Ella sentada en la esquina de la cama, como solía hacerlo. Le conté que le había dejado fajitas en el sartén, en la estufa. Bajó a comer, pero regresó en unos minutos para decirme que no encontró nada de comer en la cocina. Qué extraño. Tal vez Ali tenía tanta hambre que se las acabó y, al terminar, lavó la cocina, ya que no quedaba rastro alguno del sartén con fajitas.

Hoy, la pequeña Ella se quedó dormida por última vez. Rodeada de mi familia, por fin puede descansar de su cansada batalla contra el cáncer.

Le encantaba la carne asada, las tortillas y el queso. Como toda buena sonorense. Pero, ¿qué más podíamos esperar de alguien nacida en Ures? Y antes de que Joe Rogan pusiera de moda el MDMA, Ella ya buscaba sapos que lamer para ponerse astral.

Tal vez, algún día, cuando termine mi vida, la encuentre esperándome acostada frente a la puerta de entrada, como solía hacerlo.

Te agradecería que, en su honor, comas un chingo de fajitas. O hagas carnita asada. O, si te sientes valiente, lamas un sapo.

Te quiero,
Raúl Arturo Herrera

Back then, I was usually the one who cooked at home. I cooked for Alisa, Luis, and myself. That day I made fajitas, one of everyone’s favorite dishes in the house. I made them around noon, and once I finished, I ate alone, since no one else was home. Alisa showed up soon after and went straight to eat too. We left plenty of fajitas in the pan—enough for Luis to eat later when he got home.

A few hours later, Luis arrived. I remember I was upstairs in my room, probably playing LoL studying, with Ella sitting on the corner of the bed like she always did. I told him I’d left some fajitas for him in the pan on the stove. He went down to eat but came back a few minutes later to tell me he couldn’t find anything to eat in the kitchen. How strange. Maybe Ali was so hungry she finished them off and then cleaned up the kitchen afterward, because there was no trace at all of the pan or the fajitas.

A few hours later, Luis went out to water the backyard. Strangely, he found one of the kitchen spatulas out in the yard. He looked under the orange tree, and there, hidden in the grass, was the pan I had used to make the fajitas. Ella, while no one was in the kitchen, had climbed up onto the stove and taken the entire pan—spatula and all—outside to the garden to eat the fajitas. She loved them and wasn’t about to let that opportunity go. She liked them so much she licked up every last drop, which is why there was no clue she had taken all the food.

Today, little Ella fell asleep for the last time. Surrounded by my family, she can finally rest after her long and exhausting battle with cancer.

She loved carne asada, tortillas, and cheese—like any good Sonoran dog. But what else could you expect from someone born in Ures? And long before Joe Rogan made MDMA trendy, Ella was already out there licking toads to get astral.

Maybe someday, when my life is over, I’ll find her waiting for me, lying in front of the door like she always did.

I’d appreciate it if, in her honor, you eat a shitload of fajitas. Or make some carne asada. Or, if you're feeling brave, lick a toad.

Love,
Raúl Arturo Herrera