Mrs. Lola, 82, lived with her youngest son Juan and his wife Ana. She had recently begun forgetting things and asking the same questions over. Juan and Ana murmured behind her back. — “All that’s missing is her signing the house transfer, then we can send her away.” — “She’s already confused, easy to trick, nothing to worry about…”
One afternoon, they claimed to accompany her to the notary’s office to sign a “health certificate,” but it was actually a paper transferring the house, worth over 4 million pesos, to her son’s name. She signed. Without hesitation. They told her frankly that night: “Mom, go stay elsewhere for a while.” We want to make the house more presentable.” She bowed her head, silently.
Her husband, Don Pedro, was too angry to speak, and carried her away at night to live with a distant nephew in the countryside. However, just 48 hours later, as the family was enjoying “cleaning” their new property, a pickup truck abruptly halted outside the gate. Doña Lola went down in her cotton blouse and shawl, holding a tin of nasty sauce that smelled terrible, and calmly said:
— “You thought I was senile, but I only acted forgetful… and then…” — “I recorded all your plotting, including the fraudulent deed you duped me into signing.” I reported everything to the land register and the police. I wasn’t absent for the last 48 hours; I was with a lawyer, preparing to cancel the contract and return the house to my name. “And this…”
Doña Lola raised the can and lifted the lid. A strong stink filled the rooms, prompting everyone to shield their noses.— “This can is a gift for you.” It’s sauce that I let fester for two years; anytime someone misbehaves, the town knows. I intended to toss it, but instead I’ll leave it here to remind you that a tarnished reputation is like this odor; no amount of wealth will wipe it away.”
Don Pedro appeared behind her, leaning on his cane. He declared in a firm voice: — “Your parents don’t need your money, but don’t ever believe greed can fool the elderly. This house is your mother’s; if you want to keep it, you have to cross my dead body first.” Juan and Ana’s faces turned pale and trembled. — “Mom… mom… we just… only wanted to manage it…”
Doña Lola, 82, smiled slightly and her eyes shone with vigor. — “Manage it? Let’s see if the cops, neighbors, and relatives believe it. I may be elderly, but I’m not foolish. Children who betray their parents will carry this odor with them for the rest of their lives, no matter how hard they attempt to clean it away.”
The entire neighborhood gathered outside and murmured. Juan and Ana could only lower their heads as the smell of rotten sauce permeated the house like an unbreakable curse.