Grampo Caralampio had been trying to coming up con una scary story para ayudarle a Canutito get into the Halloween spirit. Somehow no estaba succeeding porque el muchachito wasn’t really poniéndole atención; instead, nomás estaba sentão en la mesa coloreando. Grama Cuca had been lavando los trastes allá en el sink. She was smiling porque suddenly ella estaba pensando de algo. She began:

M’hijo, you just heard a tu grampo tell you about el hombre who got run over y que resultó con todas sus body parts scattered por todo el camino. Eso me hizo remind de otra historia que pienso that you might enjoy.”

Canutito paró las orejitas and he looked at Grama Cuca, who was hanging el trapo en el towel rack y poniendo el estropajo en el dishrag hook. She poured her herself una copa de té de manzanilla and she sat at the table bebiendo su cup of chamomile tea slowly.

“Are you ready to tell me la historia que es scary y foneh at the same time, grama?” Canutito asked her.

“I think so, m’hijo,” Grama Cuca replied. “It started out en un pueblecito not to far de aquí. In that village there lived un hombre who was un poco esmarte pero not really.”

“How can una persona be smart pero a la misma vez no ser inteligente?” Canutito wondered a voz alta.

“You know, m’hijo,” grama replied. “Some people know algunas cosas about some things pero not everything about otras cosas. Pero let me get on con la historia before I forget it.”

“Bueno, grama,” Canutito said as he picked up otra Crayola.”

“It seemed que este hombre decided un día que he wanted to be un policeman. Quería hacer fight crime y reportar any wrong doing que pudiera jallar en ese village. Una tarde, mientras que estaba escuchando su police scanner, he heard la voz de un dispatcher announcing que había habido un accidente en el Old Sawmill Road. Immediately el captain de los polices named him to go investigar y hacer un reporte de todo lo que he might find at the scene of the accident.”

“What had happened when he went to investigate el accidente, grama?” Canutito asked.

“Well, el policeman saw que there had been un accidente y que el driver estaba todo broken up. He found una de sus manos en la acequia so he wrote down en su reporte: ‘una mano in the ditch … d-e-e-c-h’, and then he continued. ‘I found una pierna en la acequia too so he wrote down: ‘I also found una pierna in the middle of the ditch … d-e-e-c-h.’ ” Grama paused in her narrative pa’ tomar un sip de su té.

Canutito paró las orejitas to hear the rest of grama’s funny-scary story.

Grama went on: “Y luego el policeman looked and found las tripas del car driver en la acequia so he wrote down: ‘las guts of the driver están in the ditch, d-e-e-c-h’. Then he looked and found la cabeza del driver lying way over there in the middle of the highway. He picked up the head and looked at it antes de completar su reporte.

He thought por un momento and then he began to write: ‘I found la cabeza en el medio del highway: h-i- … (hummm) h-i … (hummm) h-i …’ de repente he kicked the head away from the highway and right into the acequia so he wrote down: ‘I found the head en el medio del ditch: d-e-e-c-h’.” Canutito was laughing so hard at the policemen que no sabía spellear ‘highway’ so le dio una patada a la cabeza porque he only knew how to spell ditch: d-e-e-c-h. A veces la verdad is stranger que la fiction …

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