Asturias Read Online Free

mobilising under Franco and the other generals and the country would begin drifting towards civil war.
    In 1936, when war finally broke out and the brothers returned to Consuegra, Juana went with them. She was seventeen years old.
    Ardillo was twenty-one.
    My grandmother died a year before I was born. That was when my grandfather came to live with his daughter and her husband. Then I was born. And my mother died. And we were a house of men.
    I never knew my grandmother, and it was years before I came to know the full story.
    Claire got to meet my grandfather.
    She came to pick me up, and of course I wasn’t ready. It was Saturday. So, naturally, my father had to pull an emergency shift at the factory, and Abuelito had to decide to be in one of his “second childhood” moods. I think it was because he knew I was going out and it would be at least an hour and a half before he had any company to ignore.
    For an old guy, my grandfather really wasn’t too much trouble, most of the time. But he knew how to choose his moments.
    There I was, half-dressed, getting ready for my first big date in almost a year, and he refused to eat. Not only refused, but threw the plate in the sink and demanded some “real food”.
    Okay, so it was only five-minute noodles, but it wasn’t like he was starving. Hell, he never ate much at the best of times. But he was stubborn, and I was furious.
    And the doorbell was ringing.
    She stood there looking like a Cosmo photo-spread, and I answered the door with my shirt open to the waist and my feet bare.
    She smiled.
    â€œFashion statement?”
    For once I couldn’t think of a come-back. I think much better with a guitar in my hands.
    She stepped inside. I whispered an explanation about my grandfather, introduced her, and ran upstairs to finish getting ready, planning bloody revenges on Abuelito.
    The first thing I heard when I came down a few minutes later was the silence.
    I stopped at the foot of the stairs.
    I could predict what I would find. My grandfather sitting in his chair sulking, and Claire standing by the fireplace, or the window, embarrassed, and wondering why she ever accepted a date with a long-haired guitar-player.
    So, I’m not Nostradamus …
    Before I could move, and while I was still thinking of a way to salvage the situation, Abuelito’s voice drifted out.
    â€œGran movida! Where you learn that?”
    Great move … The old goat sounded positively ecstatic.
    I stood in the doorway watching Claire cleaning half his checkers from the board in one move, while he did everything but applaud.
    She looked up at him and smiled.
    â€œA friend taught me.”
    I walked across and joined them at the table by the window.
    â€œIf we don’t leave, we won’t be able to eat before the movie.”
    My grandfather’s face began to close over and I was getting ready for a quick escape, but Claire didn’t move. She just looked up at me.
    â€œAre you really hungry?” She glanced at the old man, then back at me. “I was thinking we could wait till your dad gets home, catch the eight o’clock session, and eat afterwards … If you’re not dying of starvation.”
    She looked at Abuelito and winked.
    What could I say? I shrugged my agreement. But she wasn’t finished. She pointed to the board.
    â€œMaybe we could have a tournament.”
    I shook my head and looked down at the unfinished game. “Count me out. I haven’t beaten my grandfather in my whole life. Anyone who could do that to him …”
    She was smiling at me, and I felt myself smiling back. Then I looked at Abuelito.
    â€œI think I might make you some dinner, viejo. Noodles alright?”
    He swept the remaining checkers to the side of the board, looked up at me and gave me an evil yellow grin. Back to his old self.
    Turning, I headed for the kitchen, trying to remember if we had a can of chilli beef left.
    â€œOkay,” she was