Chapter 1: The Memory of the Present[Refined Version]

In a long corridor, flanked by white curtains, a boy walked. He struggled to hold back the tears provoked by an irrepressible woman of overwhelming simplicity.
​His heart pounded fiercely, allowing the rhythm to reach his ears. He felt that the purest love guided him toward total happiness. Everything around him mattered little; in the absence of her dazzling beauty, everything turned to darkness. A gloom where the traces of the memory were imprinted, a reminder that she had once been there.
​ As they approached a door, his vision blurred. Suddenly, he watched with terror as poisonous ivy reached for the woman's ankles. Silence began to reign, and after the scene, they both spoke words that quelled the sorrow. As they touched, their love envisioned both souls in a cradle; an image that shattered in an instant when a wave struck the ship, jolting him awake.
​"Again!" he shouted, furious. "Damned wave!" added Lucas, still drowsy.
​As a result, the languor and heaviness of his eyes merged as a bottle of liquor fell. He tried to relax—without success—and thought of the broken glass; small details that forced the oracle of dreams to wait for him again. He began to pick up the fragments of the bottle that had shattered his dream with the star that appeared on a July night.

​ That same star guided him when he steered his yacht to the "San Cristóbal Pier," where he rested before beginning his routine the following day. He left with an adventurous fever, eager to hunt for new stories among the docks, but not before leaving a few coins on the counter for the innkeeper, Joe.

​ Before Joe and the others present, he introduced himself as Lucas: a nomad of the compass, an adventurer by impulse whose goal was independence. Although very few knew him, everyone believed they knew him at a glance: an ambitious boy, devoid of fear. In his heart, bright as the pale moon, friendship was marked like a seal; however, love was still a desert of promises.

​Each morning was a surprise, each outing a new story. Usually, as the day waned, he reflected on the emotions lived with the star that watched him from above. He would vent what he had experienced and set aside time for a chat with himself, seeking the answers the day had denied him.

​For years he suffered from loneliness, mitigated only by the strings of his guitar. The figure that awakened him kept him expectant, and that planted in his mind the suspicion that dreams were messengers, announcing the woman who would lead him out of his lethargy. His enemy in that lonely scenario was the weather, guilty of veiling the path toward his companion, the star.
​A storm swept the North Sea. "The Archangel" headed toward a stone mass which he cleared with determination. The ship withstood a great jolt and, after trying to stop a violent turn of the helm, Lucas was thrown from the deck. He held on with strength, but banishment was imminent. He fought, but he could not hold on. The helm, out of control, made the ship veer to starboard, throwing him into the sea.

​He tried to keep afloat and was on the verge of succumbing, but fortune allowed him to find a barrel, to which he clung all night. Upon the arrival of morning, something unexpected happened. How small the world is! Eugene, a childhood friend, was the captain of a fishing fleet. The sky cleared slightly, allowing the first rays of the sun to signal the castaway. They pulled him onto the shrimp boat of Captain Eugene Lander.
​"It can't be! If it isn't the little sea fox!" shouted Eugene, drowning out the roar of the sea.
​Half-stunned, Lucas replied:

​"Eugene, the 'tinajero'... or rather, the rat!"
​Lucas collapsed. Eugene saw him lying on the deck and reflected: "How full of ironies life is; years ago, by my fault, he almost lost his life, but today I have paid part of my debt." Eugene took Lucas to a cabin and, with care, left him in a chair; then he lifted a dusty blanket.

​"Get out of here, partners! Don't you see we have company? Make your nest somewhere else."
​Lucas rested there until ten in the morning.
​"Why so many family memories?" he said to himself, while looking at a clock nailed to the wall.

The journey has begun, and you are my crew. If you have enjoyed the beginning of The Guiding Star, I invite you to share this story and leave a comment below: What do you think awaits Lucas now that he has been rescued from the waters?
Your words are the wind that moves this work forward. I look forward to seeing you in the next installment.

David Gilberto Iriarte