Anno Domini: 4553 (P2: Limbo)

O terminal de transporte ficava na outra extremidade do edifício, onde os cientistas haviam-se reunido inicialmente. Qualquer indivíduo que lá chegasse e não tivesse uma espécie de chip de dentificação implantado num ponto atrás da orelha direita, ou um respectivo código de barras impresso na pele, na mesma região, era automaticamente transferido para a sala de segregação. Uma vez segregado, o transeunte deveria ser devidamente  identificado, reconhecido e transferido para a correspondente unidade. Ironicamente, a área onde ficava a sala de segregação chamava-se ‘Limbo’, por ser utilizada com a funcionalidade de suspender, temporariamente – ou não -, a transferência do passageiro captivo que estivesse sem a identificação, para o próximo nível.  

O grupo chegou ao terminal poucos minutos após sair da sala onde haviam-se encontrado com o chefe do Conselho. O técnico aguardava-os à entrada para levá-los logo ao seu destino. Ao entrar, alguns dos cientistas mais jovens tiveram um choque.

Envolto por um forte campo magnético circundado por um facho de luz branca, que vinha de uma fonte no teto, bem no centro da sala de segregação do ‘Limbo’, estava uma espécie aparentemente desconhecida de humanoide. Com boa parte do corpo coberto de pelos escuros, a criatura parecia ser uma anomalia genética. Os pelos no alto e à volta da cabeça eram mais longos e estavam desgrenhados e sujos. A pele tinha características humanas, mas parecia mais espessa e escura que as dos cientistas a observarem o estranho. Os olhos eram verdes; profundamente verdes. Havia neles uma certa loucura selvagem, claramente estampada. Ele estava aparentemente imobilizado pelo campo magnético à sua volta, mas não escondia uma agressividade manifesta pelos músculos visivelmente desenvolvidos e tensos.

- Já conseguiram comunicação com ele?

O técnico - um homem jovem e alto – respondeu, prontamente e sem titubear, ao chefe do Conselho.

- Ainda não. Ele expressa-se em uma espécie de linguagem que o tradutor automático não consegue distinguir. Já tentamos todas as variantes possíveis e não obtivemos nenhuma solução clara. O pouco que conseguimos não faz muito sentido, por isso acreditamos que deva ser uma língua ou muito nova ou muito antiga.

- E se for um dialeto?

- O tradutor não consegue distinguir nenhum dialeto conhecido… Já não temos alternativas viáveis…

- Acredito que temos, sim.

O chefe do Conselho olhou o homenzinho de frente e com uma expressão preocupada. Os olhos quase transparentes pareciam desafiá-lo.

- Ah, não. Não temos. Esta hipótese nem pode ser cogitada. Não mesmo…

- É nossa única alternativa… ou então mandá-lo de volta.

Desta vez o técnico quase entrou em pânico.

- Mandá-lo de volta para onde, senhor? Nem sabemos de onde veio… nem de quando…

O rosto do chefe do Conselho não escondeu o assombro que aquela declaração causou-lhe. Ao ver-se observado, o humanoide recomeçou a emitir os sons, que vinha repetindo sem parar, desde que fora apreendido, numa língua completamente irreconhecível.

- Ele sempre repete esta mesma fala, no mesmo tom desesperado e agressivo. Parece querer dizer-nos algo importante ou transmitir-nos uma mensagem qualquer… um aviso ou uma súplica...

O homenzinho sabia que não ia ser fácil convencer o chefe do Conselho. Olhou-o novamente com aquela expressão inquiridora em seus pálidos olhos azuis. Mas o chefe já não tinha paciência.

- Continuem a tentar. Reconfigurem o tradutor. Façam algo diferente. Tem de haver uma maneira…

O homem virou-se e saiu apressado, não sem antes olhar novamente para dentro da sala de segregação. Seu olhar cruzou com o do ser envolto pelo campo de luz e ele sentiu uma súbita dor no estômago. Precisava descansar. Aquele não era um bom sinal.

O grupo de cientistas olhou para o homenzinho de olhos azuis, que abanou a cabeça, num gesto de impotência diante de uma autoridade maior que a sua. O brado do intruso, vindo de dentro da sala protegida por um material transparente e resistente começou a deixá-lo muito mais nervoso que já estivera. Não compreendia porque seu superior não concordava com sua alternativa. Ele já havia visto olhos como os daquele humanoide antes e sabia que havia uma forma muito rápida de resolver aquela situação. O homem contemplou a cabine e seu desesperado prisioneiro, que o olhava com aparência cada vez mais insana. Ele ainda não sabia se o pobre coitado gritava imprecações ou se tentava passar alguma mensagem…

- Procedam com a higienização.

Um tubo transparente desceu do teto, à volta do humanoide, quase que imediatamente à ordem do cientista. A sessão de higienização começara. Após a queima total dos pelos, por um processo químico limpo, transformando-os em uma cinza a cobrir o corpo, segue-se uma nuvem de spray húmido e morno que faz a parte de depuração e remoção da cinza e, por fim, uma aspiração completa o processo.

Quando o tubo sobe, o humanoide está bastante diferente. De pé, sem a cobertura de pelos e sem a sujeira, parecia-se muito com os cientistas a observarem-no com curiosidade, com algumas óbvias exceções. Era mais alto, mais musculoso, tinha o formato da cabeça um tanto diferente - um pouco menor que nos novos humanos - mas era humano, com certeza. Havia uma marca impressa na pele do braço, onde os bíceps mostravam-se firmes e desenvolvidos. Aquela tatuagem, agora visível, não passou despercebida ao cientista.

O homem de olhos azuis escondeu um leve sorriso, ao olhar o homem de pé à sua frente, completamente desnudo e desprotegido e soube que estava certo ao propor a alternativa para o enigma da linguagem. 

- Chamem o chefe do Conselho, de volta, com urgência…. Ou melhor: deixem que eu mesmo vou até ele!

***

- Ainda tem dúvida? Temos que trazer Leona até aqui, com urgência. Por mais que tentais evitar, somente ela pode trazer alguma luz à esta questão. Embora queirais mantê-la longe disto, não há como negar que somente ela pode nos ajudar neste momento. Se há uma chave, não há dúvida que ela a possui.

- Pois bem. Façamos o que deve ser feito. Mas que fique bem claro que eu não gosto nada disso.

Os olhos do chefe do Conselho não esconderam a grande preocupação que ele sentiu naquele momento, mas o cientista estava certo. Não era prudente esperar mais, diante da evidência relatada por seu subordinado.

***

Leona chegou-se à frente, para observar melhor o homem dentro da cabine. Ela usava uma veste inteira, de uma peça só, quase justa ao corpo, que cobria-lhe da cabeça aos pés. Um capuz cobria-lhe a cabeça, deixando à mostra muito pouco da face bastante diferente daqueles cientistas, ansiosos por saber se ela conseguia mesmo decifrar o mistério. Seus grandes olhos, profundamente verdes, não pareceram reconhecer aquele ser, mas quando ele levantou a cabeça e avistou-a, sua expressão mudou completamente.

O homem, ao vê-la, jogou-se contra campo de força, gritando algo que parecia-se com a pronúncia do nome dela. O embate contra o campo de força foi tão violento, que o homem foi jogado para trás, caindo sobre suas costas, quase nocauteado. Aquela reação assustou-a imensamente, fazendo com que desse um passo para trás, em resposta involuntária. Ele, porém,  levantou-se, ainda meio tonto e começou a falar a frase que já havia repetido tantas vezes, mas que não fizera nenhum efeito... pelo menos até aquele momento.

Leona falou devagar, tentando mostra-se calma, mas seus grandes olhos eram expressivos demais.

- Ele fala num dialeto muito antigo. Havia muito que eu não ouvia nada parecido.

- E o que diz?

Ela olhou o chefe do Conselho com um ar muito grave, depois baixou o olhar, como se estivesse constrangida. Sua voz parecia, agora, muito tênue, num tom grave, baixo - quase um sussurro - muito diferente daquele que havia usado antes. Evitando olhar o homem de frente, ela passou a informação. Ele teve que fazer um esforço enorme para compreender bem o que ela dizia, mas a mensagem era bem clara.

- Ele disse: devolvam minha irmã!

***

Anno Domini: 4553 (P1: Intro)

O som estridente das sirenes ecoou pelos corredores do grande edifício, com uma insistência pouco usual. Em um pequeno espaço de tempo, pessoas começaram a deslocar-se, apressadas, pelas galerias, numa estudada ação de evacuação. Fazia tempo que tal não acontecia e alguns elementos pareciam realmente perdidos no procedimento e limitavam-se a seguir os mais experientes.

O Conselho de Segurança fora chamado às pressas para uma reunião de emergência. A maioria nunca havia participado em nada parecido em, pelo menos, mais de um par de décadas, após o grande blackout que havia acontecido pelo sistema de emergência haver apresentado uma falha.

- Senhores Membros do Conselho. Ainda não sabemos o que aconteceu, mas por medida de segurança, devemos colocar esta unidade em estado de alerta. Não deve ser nada grave, mas se houver perigo, temos que estar protegidos. Não deve ter sido mais que uma falha no fornecimento de energia, como aconteceu uma vez antes, há muito tempo atrás e que não passou de um grande susto para todos nós.

- Há algum perigo de invasão?

A voz daquele jovem, no meio da grande sala, pareceu ribombar, quando o silêncio seguiu-se e caiu pesado como uma rocha sobre o ambiente. Os olhos todos voltaram-se ao rapaz extremamente pálido, de olhos esverdeados, que levantara-se para ter sua pergunta ouvida. O chefe do Conselho falou, com voz calma, mas com o cenho um tanto franzido.

- Invasão? Não acreditamos que seja algo desta natureza. Nós somos um povo pacífico. Não fazemos mal a quem quer que seja, nem temos nada em nosso domínio que alguma outra civilização possa querer tomar. Na verdade, somos uma raça despreparada para invasões ou para guerras. Somos cientistas e estamos preocupados apenas com o bem-estar da nossa civilização e deste planeta.

Uma sombra, entretanto, pareceu passar sobre o semblante sério do Chefe do Conselho.

‘O bem-estar deste planeta estéril… para quê, afinal? Já nem sabemos a razão pela qual ainda estamos cá… nem sabemos porque nos mantemos vivos ou a este sistema sem sentido.’

O pensamento passou-lhe como um flash, abandonando-o logo em seguida, mas deixou o seu incômodo peso na mente do homem. Ele passou o olhar pelas fileiras de cadeiras e sentiu um pouco de pena dos elementos que ali estavam. As faces, tão pouco diferentes umas das outras, demonstravam apreensão. Ele tinha que extinguir qualquer sinal de dúvidas em relação ao perigo, mas não tinha informações concretas ainda, para poder sustentar seu discurso.

- Voltem para seus aposentos. A segurança tratará de mantê-los a salvo. As portas permanecerão fechadas até que se tenha alguma resposta para dar-vos. Agora vão.

A audiência saiu em silêncio e tomou os corredores que davam para as galerias, onde estavam os aposentos. Assim que entravam, o sistema de segurança bloqueava as portas e os monitores ligavam, mostrando imagens captadas por câmeras instaladas do lado de fora do edifício central.

O chefe do Conselho esperou que todos saíssem, evitou o olhar questionador do jovem que fez a pergunta e que o deixara inquieto, virou-se, antes que pudesse ser interpelado uma outra vez e entrou por uma abertura por trás do púlpito, onde estivera por poucos minutos. Dali, teria acesso à sala de controlo central do edifício, onde a segurança lhe daria informações atualizadas sobre o incidente.

Enquanto caminhava pelo corredor pouco iluminado, sua mente trabalhava com rapidez, a preparar-se para o que poderia vir a constatar. As sirenes já lhe soavam bastante distantes e pouco audíveis, mas ainda teriam que permanecer ligadas, até que todos estivessem recolhidos aos seus aposentos. Ele esperava que agora fosse questão de apenas uns poucos minutos a mais.

Entre um pensamento e outro, as lembranças de um passado um tanto remoto iam preenchendo os espaços na mente do chefe do Conselho com uma série de preocupações, que desde há muito tempo já não o assombravam. O homem respirou fundo e entrou na sala de controlo central, onde outros velhos e conhecidos cientistas já o aguardavam, com expressões de preocupação estampadas nas faces. Um outro pequeno grupo entrou na sala, logo em seguida, em silêncio.

- Não me parece nada tranquilizador…

O pensamento saiu-lhe pela boca, antes que ele pudesse controlar ou evitar. Um homenzinho de olhos azuis muito pálidos, quase transparentes, adiantou-se e disse, sem cerimônia e sem demonstrar qualquer sinal de emoção:

- E não é, na verdade… Agora que estamos todos aqui, quero que me sigam até a sala de segregação do Limbo.

O chefe do Conselho seguiu o homenzinho, com uma expressão bem mais preocupada do que aquela com que entrou na sala em que estavam. O caso parecia ser mais sério que ele imaginara. Atrás de si, além do grupo dos mais experientes, um pequeno grupo de jovens cientistas caminhava quieto, mas sem conseguir esconder a carga de curiosidade que sentiam naquele momento. Suas mentes bem treinadas para resolver problemas físico-matemáticos trabalhavam em ritmo acelerado, tentando antecipar o que estava por vir.

Mal sabiam eles que estavam totalmente despreparados para o que iriam enfrentar dentro de poucos minutos.

***

Hate Me (And The Big Lie)

Hate me, please.

Don’t pity me

Don’t patronize me,

Don’t look at me like that.

I just can’t stand the way

Your gaze burst

My heart into fierce

Smouldering flames...

Don’t hold my hand

That tightly,

As if you were afraid

Of letting me go;

Don’t look me in the eye,

As if you intended

To read my soul;

Don’t embrace my body,

As if I was running

Away from you...

Because if you look

Deep in my eyes,

Hold my hand,

Or hug me,

Like you usually do,

I will have no escape

But to keep you

In my life

For as long as I can...

(Oh, do not ever consider

Kissing me like that

Once again)...

So, please, my dearest friend,

For the sake of our sanities,

Just hate me

And let me go...

...Before I change

My mind…

Odeia-me (E a Grande Mentira)

Odeia-me, por favor.

Não tenha pena de mim,

Não me proteja,

Não me olhe desta forma.

Eu não posso suportar o modo

Com que o teu olhar

Faz meu coração arder

Em chamas.

Não segure minhas mãos

Tão firmemente,

Como se tivesses medo

De deixar-me partir.

Não me olhe nos olhos,

Como se pretendesses

Ler minha alma.

Não abrace meu corpo,

Como se eu fosse

Fugir de ti...

Porque se tu me olhas,

Assim fundo em meus olhos,

Seguras minha mão,

Ou abraças-me,

Como normalmente fazes,

Não terei escusa alguma,

Além de manter-te,

Em minha vida,

Por tanto tempo quanto eu conseguir...

(Oh e nunca consideres a hipótese

De beijar-me

Uma outra vez, sequer)...

Então, por favor,

Pelo bem da nossa amizade

E pela nossa sanidade,

Odeia-me

E deixa-me ir...

Antes que eu mude

De ideia...

Ζει με τις αναμνήσεις μου (Zei me tis anamní̱seis mou) - Living with my memories (P.2)

The briny and fresh air blew against my face and body while I ran closer to the man lying motionlessly on the cold beach sand. I knew I had to do something quickly, so my first reaction was to kneel by him and immediately start blowing into his mouth, with my lips pressed against his every couple of seconds, in a desperate attempt to bring him back to life. My heart was beating so fast and so loud I thought it was going to explode. I was not only scared; I was in such a real panic I did not notice he was already breathing in the middle of the procedure. He gasped lightly and slowly opened his eyes with a funny expression stamped on his face.

Instead of relief, I felt a strong impulse to beat him again for the fright he gave me, but I was still too apprehensive to do so. It was I who caused his pain and his passing out, anyway. I could still clearly hear the strong thumping of my heart pumping blood inside the veins in my head and mixing all my thoughts up. 

My face was so near, it was almost touching his and my mouth was so close to his I could feel his still uneasy breath warming my lips up. He did not push me away from him however. He just looked deep into my eyes. His pupils widened immensely almost covering the whole surface of his hazel iris. I felt a strangely uncontrollable longing growing deep inside of me.

I knew I would not find another better opportunity in a million years, so I moved on and kissed him affectionately. He did not make any effort to avoid it, to my surprise and, maybe, to his own. I held his body against mine and felt his arms clutching strongly around my back. For endless seconds I thought I would never let him go off of my clasp. The tension on his body was evident but no words were exchanged, not even when we finally relaxed the grasp from each other.

He made an effort to stand up and I helped him.  We walked silently to his home, which was the nearest private place there was to where we were. When we got into the small entrance hall, he let me in, turned around, closed the front door and stopped, with his hand still holding the cold knob, as if thinking about what had just happened.

My fear of losing him and my courage to move forward seemed to hold hands together, pushing me ahead and making me hold him from behind, with my arms wrapped around his body and my hands crossed on his chest. I smelled his scented hair and kissed the skin on the back of his neck, feeling the sweet perfume still fragrant on his body. He lifted his head, with his eyes shut down. I turned his face to mine and pressed my lips against his. He responded with a sweet kiss and we started fondling each other, while slowly unbuttoning one another’s clothes. He grabbed my hand snugly and led me to the bedroom. I followed him blindly without saying a single word.

(Well, not exactly or truly blindly, as my eyes were fixed on his wonderful lower back, for all that mattered…)

He did not turn the lights of the chamber on, however. He just stopped and held me in a tight embrace. I pushed our bodies onto the bed, still holding each other as if there was no future for us and that only that sweet moment really mattered. The present was then and there… intensely and as long as it could last… and as such ought to be seized… by then and there.

The dim light coming in from the hall was enough to endow me with sufficient luminosity to discretely appreciate his slim silhouette. He was, definitely, perfect to my eyes. His were the most wonderful pair of cheeks I have ever seen in a man before and, as I noticed immediately afterwards, his buttocks were covered with an almost invisible light brown fuzz which, for some reason, reminded me of a ripe peach. I felt the unexpected urge to bite them, but instead, kissed the soft, downy, pale and silky skin.

He moaned slightly and laughed at me. Then he turned around and I could not help but notice the evidence of the enjoyment he was having with my caressing attention. He was an untamed beast; a real stallion at his best.

I was so mesmerized I played with every inch of his fit body for long lasting delightful hours. He accepted all that attention with the appreciation of a gentleman and shared his gratitude by giving me all the consideration I had never had from a lover before. His body was a whole amusement park to me, where I played every ride with full enjoyment. Pleasure meant a new thing to me after that night... and it had a name... and also a surname.

- What have you done to me? I think you have poisoned me.

His face was concealed by the darkness in the bedroom, but I was sure he was smiling at me. I responded with a mix of delighted joy with a pinch of resentment.

- You, crazy man... you, fool. Why have you had me waiting for so long? We could have been enjoying ourselves for such a long time by now. So much time have been wasted...

He sealed my lips with a kiss. He must have dripped some kind of powerful poison in my mouth too - or was it a spell he cast on me? - for my thoughts got confusing and I felt a bit dizzy... I could not think clearly anymore while under his spell. I did not know how dangerous that situation was... until it was too late to go back...

- Forget about the past and the nonsense about wasted time. Life is here and now. Enjoy the moment.

- You're right. It's here and now. I know it is all about my insecurities and fears. I wanted to hate you for what you have done to me... to us... but I can´t... At least not after all that happened tonight.

The computer was playing a sequence of Modern Greek music. He was always listening to unusual music to my knowledge anyway. He hummed some strange sounding words. I asked what those lines meant and he sang, smiling:

- Μη μου λες να ζω μ’ αναμνήσεις            (Mi̱ mou les na zo̱ me anamní̱seis

   δεν το αντέχω                                             Den to antécho̱

   Μου κρατάς τον κόσμο στα χέρια          Mou kratás ton kósmo sta chéria

   άσ’τον να πέσει κι ας χαθώ (*)                As ton na pései ki as chathó̱) (*)

- But what does that mean, anyway?

He lowered the voice and then said:

- A free translation could be:  

  Do not tell me now to live with memories

  I cannot stand it

  You're holding my world in your hands

  So let me fall and let me go...

I looked at him. He was staring at me with a very serious and straight expression on his face, as if he was going to tell me some bad news...

***

The sliding doors opened and closed repeatedly and I did not see any signal of the dearly known face. My heart was heavily apprehensive and the seconds weighed on me like long dull hours. In my thoughts I wondered if he would still look the same after so many years.

‘Oh, God! You know how hard I tried to keep him away from my mind and my thoughts...and erase him forever from my memories’...

The doors opened again and again and again... then all the lighting suddenly disappeared in front of my eyes. It seemed to me he was the only human being walking out of the private area, with a large grin decorating his handsome face. His smile was still so attractively manly and good-looking, I had the impression he was the only light shimmering in that immense airport hall. It seemed to me I had completely forgotten how much that grin used to melt my fears away. Then I realized the reminiscences were all coming back to my mind and I wasn't able to discern what to think anymore. I had been poisoned once and could never recover. How I wished I was free from his enchantment after so long and act naturally, but alas... that was impossible...

We were separated only by the security line. He waved at me. I smiled back and made a sign with my head to have him meeting me at the end of that line. He followed from the other side. When we were finally face to face, I greeted him with my hand for a handshake… or so I tried...

He pulled me against him and gave me his whole body instead, in an embrace that made my entire body shake. With his face touching mine, he whispered in my ears.

- I missed you so much... so very much...

I had my eyes filled with uncontrolled tears and responded to his ears, still holding him firmly in my embrace:

- “Do not tell me (...) to live with memories” only.... ever again...you fool...

*** 

*From Giorgos Mazonakis - Μη μου λες να ζω μ’ αναμνήσεις (Mi Mou Les Na Zw Me Anamniseis)

Ζει με τις αναμνήσεις μου (Zei me tis anamní̱seis mou) - Living with my memories (P.1)

It was a fresh night of a long and dreary very hot day. I ended up at the two-story pub by the beach, drinking and chatting to old acquainted pals, without taking actual notice of the time. It was already long past midnight and too late in the evening, even for my standards, when I decided to take a break and enjoy a smoke out in the night air.

Saturday nights are great. Feeling absolute free from the need of being up early or not having any specific schedule the next morning gave me a kind of sense of comfortable irresponsibility.

I stood at the beach, looking at the dark sea ahead and listening to the sound of waves breaking on the shore, maybe a little too drunk to think about anything serious and feeling very pleased to be there, thinking of nothing and puffing my favorite filtered cigarette.

His presence was only noticed when I heard him saying something about the group of young people that was coming noisily towards the spot where we were standing.

-          Youngsters! I wonder why they always have to be so noisy. I don’t remember being like that… ever…

I looked at him, who seemed as drunk as I was and said nothing. In my mind I was too lazy to consider his comment any seriously. In fact, I was a little envious of them, for being so ingenuously free. The group approached a little closer and sat on the soft white fine sand. One of the young guys stood up, got rid of his clothes and walked towards the dark waters. The others followed without hesitation and jumped in the roaring ocean.

He muttered something I could not really understand, walked some steps away and started stripping, intending to join the group of nudists who were boisterously playing and swimming close by the shore line. I watched him getting rid of his shoes and socks, then the shirt, jeans… and finally the white cotton underwear…

His skin was pale and his body was manly, slim and stiff, not ostensibly muscled, a bit hairy on the chest and on the lower part of the stomach, without being excessively covered by what seemed to me a soft dark fur. His legs were long and strong. His feet were well proportioned and very whitish. His back was hairless as were his buttocks, which seemed to be smooth and firm for a man in his early fifties.

The funny thing about that situation was that for the first time ever I noticed he was really attractive to the eyes. When dressed he seemed too ordinary to be noticed, maybe because of the sober and nearly loose-fitting almost-always-grey-and-blue jeans & shirts he was used to wear and which never really caught a bit of my attention. As he was at that moment, the bare reality was showing an astounding mature beauty which was hidden underneath the usual dull cotton cloth. I thought of a grey moth stripping away its unattractiveness and showing the actual shape of a beautiful butterfly, whose sober colored wings were not really appreciated and that passed through life completely neglected and unnoticed. I considered myself to be drunk enough to think all of that about a man’s body at that time of the day… or better still, of the night.

Almost unconsciously I undressed and followed him, with my eyes still magnetized by the pale body walking just a few steps ahead of me. I jumped in the cold waters before my body could show any evidence of an embarrassing amusement for the view. The physique of the other guys or girls swimming close to us did not make any impression on me. I was startled by my own reaction.

We swam for a while without talking to each other but I have to confess I had to control myself or he would know I could not look away from his amazing body. Fortunately the lights were a bit far away from where we were and I could catch a glimpse every now and then of his startling figure, without him noticing my growing yearning.

When we were finally back to the beach I pretended to be freezing and dressed up quite quickly. He did the same and we silently strode out to the pub area again. I lit another cigarette trying not to show my anxiety.  He did not smoke... at all. My drunkenness was all gone and I felt a little embarrassed to look on to his face as we walked side by side. The pub was already closed when we reached it, so I decided it was time to go home.

We were not close friends by that time and I realized there and then that I wanted us to be closer than we had ever been for obvious reasons. I felt as if an unwelcome cover was being taken off my previously blindfolded eyes.

I am not one of those who can easily get impressed by these kinds of things but I admit the vision of that night events were imprinted in my memory and kept me thinking about my reaction for a good time afterwards.

Next time I saw him I tried every effort to befriend him as close as I could. Summer was high and hot, so we used to go the pub almost every evening and sit by the beach while talking for long and endless hours.

One day, a few weeks later, I decided it was time to go on and tell him how I felt. I did not want to scare him away, so I had to be very careful. I joked about his butts and the way I noticed how perfect they were. He laughed at me and said I ought to be kidding him. I laughed. Inside, however, I decided I had to be even braver if I wanted to insist on my intent. That night, though, I could not go on. Things like these should be natural, not forced.

For many occasions I tried to go back to the matter and he always laughed at me. One day, another few weeks later on, I told him I was really serious. I wanted us to try and do something about it. He seemed to be shocked and said that would never happen. He, nevertheless, kept on coming to the pub and never avoided me, in spite of the serious statement made that day. I understood he was struggling to get used to the idea, or so it was what I wanted it to be anyway.

I decided to stop pushing him for a while, in an effort to bring our cherished friendship even closer, but my thoughts used to betray me and so did my eyes. He surely noticed it, but never let it show clearly. Autumn and wintertime came and passed by us quietly, without my coming back to the matter, as I knew he was still firm in his poise.

A few months had passed again and summer was slowly coming back. We were standing alone on the balcony of the same pub we used to go by the beach. I did not want to spoil the camaraderie between us, so I started carefully. 

-          I don’t know why you keep pretending to ignore the subject but be sure that if something unpleasant happens we can still be friends. I would like to try, nevertheless, instead of avoiding it forever and causing uneasiness for both of us.

He stayed quiet. The night was pleasant and fresh. I was not drunk that time and took his silence for a ‘no’.

I took a deep breath inhaling the saline air surrounding my body and filling my nostrils and lungs with the iodine scent of the ocean. There was a flight of steps from the balcony leading to the soft sandy beach. I went downstairs, took my shoes and socks off and started walking barefoot towards the sea. With my trousers folded up to the knees, I got into the waters which felt amazingly fresh and nice. The sound of the waves and an uncomfortable loud noise in my mind kept me from noticing anything else but my own confrontational thoughts.

There was a pier ahead and I decided to go there with my feet boisterously kicking the sea waters as I walked. I felt like a boy playing along the shore when a familiar voice called me back to reality. He was walking by my side and telling me not to be upset and that I should accept inevitable things as they were… simple like that. I halted. He was serious. I was more serious than he was.

‘How could he be like that’, I asked myself, when I looked at him. I punched his arm hard and he hit me back harder. It was reason enough to start a fight and in no time we were rolling in the water hitting each other as if we were two youngsters fighting for some idiot reason like maintaining the prides of each other above everything and all. After a sequence of punches I hit him very hard in the stomach and he curled up holding his belly and moaning in pain. He asked me to stop and I stood up, turned around and walked off, leaving him alone, before my anger could make me cause a real harm to him. I was so mad at him I could hardly think…

But remorse made me turn back around again and then I saw him lying on his back still holding his stomach. I draw myself near enough to see if he was ok. His eyes were closed and his mouth was a little open, as if he was trying to catch his breath back. Then he stopped moving.

I felt as guilty and scared as a lad who had wounded a colleague in a fight at the schoolyard. I had to do something quickly. Almost instinctively, I ran to him…