Still remember those times already distant when I worked in the forest harvesting in the Campeche forests, the experiences in these forests it marked my life forever. I lived with rough men, wood cutters, work being done to ax blow, and was used to load the wood systems of pulleys or with beams and hooks; these men, although ignorant of many things, they had a great sense of camaraderie intimately linked to their traditions and ancestral fears. Our camp was located on the shore of a lagoon that served the wood cutters in the dry season and the gum extractor in the rainy season. After a hard day of work, at afternoon in front of a campfire on the shore of the lagoon, sipping a cup of coffee or hot chocolate, we tell stories that spoke of ghosts; in this book, I mention an anecdote that we lived, although I have mixed the reality with fiction to create a fascinating reading.