A cockfight changed the history of these cockpits. Just a mere cockfight! The sky never stops mocking us.
A fan of the North cockpit owned a formidable fighting cock, a reddish-brown one raised by him. Another fan, but from the South cockpit, had another one, a black-legged pinto of his own breeding. They agreed on a fight, which took place in the part called People's Palace of La Vegueta, in the center of its walled square. Oh, what a tragic day! I was there. I learned later that the representative of the North cockpit had not attended that famous fight. He constantly repeated that he had been there, and I had no doubt that he would have ended up believing his own story.
It took me a long time to get used to people who lie for no reason. Since people should not lie, they generally do not deceive. We are horrified by lies, a panic that goes back centuries, but certain people do not have that feeling and are untruthful, displaying great imagination. The representative of the North cockpit lied for pleasure, but perhaps I am not doing him justice. In him, when it came to roosters, truth and fantasy are so mixed that he probably never knew which was which. He lived in a world of his own.
The representative of the South cockpit, or rather the caretaker, put a subtle, but fast-acting poison on his rooster's spurs. After a few brief passes and flutters, and without even pecking, the North rooster fell dead. I don't need to say that there were quite a few unhealthy passions that sunny day at the fight site. Many people, and not people, were there. There were all sorts of disputes while the owner of the winning rooster collected his bets and retired for the night. In the morning, there was a large crowd at his doors. The poison had been discovered. The poisoner was sought, but he had fled disguised as a servant and, heading by camel to the Caleta de la Villa pier, set off for La Graciosa in a small boat.
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