Mostrar mensagens com a etiqueta old fisherman. Mostrar todas as mensagens
Mostrar mensagens com a etiqueta old fisherman. Mostrar todas as mensagens

domingo, 20 de setembro de 2015

Of Sea and Men (Epilogue)


The opened door did not seem to be a good sign to the fisherman, who was still wary by the dream he had a few weeks before. He put his coat on and ran out of the door in a desperate rush. He could not even tell if his reaction was protective or defensive; if it were either a fear of losing or at the same time, of being alone...

He could hardly feel his feet trampling the soft wet sand nor could he sense the adrenaline running fast in his body, as he hastened along the beach, feeling the anguish upsurge exponentially within. In his mind, he could only think of the worse. And the worst was inconceivable to him at the time.

It was still dawning and the cool breeze, mixed with a dense fog, quite common at that time of the year, passed almost unnoticed by the man’s troubled mind, whose eyes, more carefully than his feet, scrutinized the waterfront with extreme and meticulous attention. The visibility was precarious due to the poor daylight and fog, but he was moved by a force which led him not to give up until he found the boy.

Up ahead, he discerned the outlined silhouette of his friend, sitting on a rock by the cliff. The mixed emotions of relief and urgency blended into his chest while he ran in that direction.

- You gave me such a huge fright, young man. I thought the worst had happened.

- I’m sorry for that. I had to think a little bit about everything that happened recently. Being here gives me a sense of security and broadens the horizons. I try to think outside the box... and it's not easy... My life will take a twist very soon and I have to make the right decisions.

- I see. We were caught in surprise, were we not?

- Certainly. It's all a little too fanciful to me right now and I have to think seriously about what to do.

- That night I told you I had a strange dream, I was quite apprehensive. I dreamed you were trying to commit suicide, drowning in the sea. I could not buy that story of the witness who saw you being assaulted and thrown into a car. When I saw that the door was open and you were not lying on the couch, I could only recall my dream... or nightmare... and think that it became real somehow. I confess I was afraid...

- Not so fast, my friend... I also had a very peculiar dream that night, you know...

The boy told him, in detail, the dream he had weeks before. The fisherman found it much more credible than the "evidence" informed by the police. In a way it kind of corroborated the presence of the man dressed in black.

- Do you think my memory, by some means, brought that fact to my mind? Or was it too coincidental?

- Anything is possible, my friend. Everything is possible in this story. I wish your memory recovered to end up with this mystery, but at the same time, I am afraid of what you'll remember and what will happen next. But you have to go ahead, no matter what you'll discover.

- Don’t be afraid. We will not stop being friends, regardless of what I will remember... I will not be able to shut my life down to what happened this time I am living on this island. I may be young... much younger than you, to tell the truth, but I am not ungrateful or stupid and do not take things for granted.

- I have never thought something in this regard, my friend. You know how much I care about you.

The boy looked at the man sitting next to him, facing the sea vastness and smiled. He patted the hand of his protector and said:

- Let's go back? We have much to do. The sea awaits us...

- You do not need to help me in the sea labours anymore. You know that.

- But I want to... one more time, at least. Tomorrow I must return to the mainland, and from then on, I do not know what will happen to me. But it's necessary to go on…

***

- I'm glad you came. Are you ready? We should go soon...

The man, dressed in black and wearing a very discreet but elegant dark blue silk tie with a small logo printed, possibly of the firm where he worked at, seemed to be in his early forties. He had the body shape of whom spent many hours in the gym and weight lifting. It would not be a surprise that he was also an expert in martial arts and personal defence or carry a gun on himself. After all, he was the head of security of a company whose founder’s bastard son had mysteriously disappeared, some time before, not long after his father recognize him as such.

The Chief of Security had come to the island on the morning ferry, along with the doctor and, like the week before, with a single interest: to bring the boy to the mainland and undergo a revolutionary new treatment for memory recovery, specially developed and designed for those people who had it lost in traumatic situations.

According to him, the young man had a Q.I. well above average and an immense sensory capacity, as well as an exceptional knack for investment analysis and a flair to work with computer programs. His skills had brought much profit to the company’s entrepreneurs and investors. For these and other reasons, it was interesting for the Administration to invest in his recovery and have him return to the business world as shortly as possible.

The deal was the boy be ready in a week’s time from the first visit of the chief of Security, who had been designated responsible for identifying the "survivor", who had been recognized by pamphlets that the police had distributed across the country. He was carrying documents and a series of photographs, that supported the authentication. When the boy came in, accompanied by the fisherman, he was showing documentary evidence to the doctor, who admitted they were very well supported and evident.

- I cannot recognize myself in these photos. That's not me. Or rather... that young man has nothing to do with me whatsoever. I am thinking of studying, graduate and make my life. I want to study Oceanography and deepen my IT knowledge, which seems to be my expertise. I want to associate the two fields in a career...

- You must come back to work with us. You'll have everything you want, supported by the firm and by your father. He anxiously waits for you. The company needs your services... and the sooner the better.

- But I do not want to go back to the company this way... I want to recover the memory, yes, but I have other plans. If the company does not want to invest in me in these terms - which is understandable - no problem. My life is no longer focused in that direction. I want to decide for myself...

- And how can you support this decision? You do not have financial conditions to do so. We can provide you everything you desire. At least until you can get enough to endure a change. Until then, you need a decent job. I do not think an old fishing boat can be your source of livelihood for a long time. Your father would never forgive you...

- I don't know the man you state as being my father. I don't know the company. I know nothing beyond the old fishing boat... which, after all, gave me all I have now... I don't want to go back to the life I had and of which I know nothing about, nor do I have any recollection whatsoever.

- I've come though this previously... Before you disappeared, you had already showed intentions to leave the company. It was a great disappointment to your father, my boss, and a problem for all of us. Let's stop this chit-chat and leave before the ferry departs without us.

The man dressed in black firmly grabbed the boy's arm, which seemed quite odd to the other two men. The boy pulled his arm off the other man’s grip, freeing himself up.

- If my father was really worried about me, he would have come himself and meet me, not just sent his body guard...

The man was livid. He knew he had a mission. The consequences of not carrying out his task, he knew very well. He stepped forward, toward the boy, who dodged. He put his hand inside his jacket and pulled a small pistol out, to the astonishment of all.

The boy looked at the man with the gun pointed in his direction and it was like a flash passed through his eyes, bringing his long-lost memories back, as if the forbidden archives had been opened in his mind and he remembered.

He was being chased through the streets and hiding in the city alleys by the river. He saw that there was a boat ready to leave the dock, at that very moment. He tried to listen carefully to the sounds close to him, to be able to take some action even if he had to risk too much. That same man, dressed in black, was carefully looking for him, armed with a pistol, probably with the sole intention of bringing him back at any cost and in any case...

At any cost, or in any way, however, it was not his intention to return to anywhere... even less to that company...

The boy kept his eyes on the gun pointed at him and said, pretending a serenity he did not really feel:

- Now I remember what happened...

***

- It was almost a miracle having my memory back, so clear, before that shocking situation. I almost froze...

- Normally, situations where there is a great rush of adrenaline trigger this sort of reaction. If he had not said that you would not escape him a second time, pointing that gun, like that, at you, we would have no reason to attack him, nor grounds for the police to arrest him. Thankfully, our reaction was quick, but I still have the mark of the bullet scraped in my arm when I and the doctor ran and jumped on him. The bad intentions of the man were clear from that moment on.

- But it could have been much worse. We could have been shot dead. After the gun was taken from his hand, it was easier. I still remember the matron hitting him hard in the back, knocking him down at once. Beating the confession out of him after that whole mess and in the middle of an angry outburst, when he could deny it if he were smarter, was a lucky treat for us... but he was completely overcome with anger by then...

- Yes. We were very lucky. It was a great team effort. He could have done anything, but he just did not count that you would survive after you've been beaten, stripped and thrown overboard. What I don’t understand, however, is the reason why he chose to hit your head, although very hard and getting rid of the body, without making sure you were really dead.

- He must have thought that the blow could be easier to explain if the body was found. He wanted it to look like an unfortunate accident. The master touch was thinking that by being naked I would be more difficult to identify... and he had a good point after all...

- Fortunately it all ended up well and I found out on the beach at the right time. I would never hesitate to defend you from any dangers that could appear. I would do it all again if I needed to. You can be sure of that.

- You know what I think? You are like the rain: sometimes falls down and refreshes; sometimes simply floods. You're a good man. It doesn't matter to me what you have done in the past or what your past has done to you. You have already lived your private hell. Your debt has been paid and has nothing to do with me. You did not know me and yet you did everything possible to help me out without even knowing who I was. You had no obligation whatsoever and you were my best mentor and protector. You were the only person who really cared for me, never thinking of ulterior intentions. You simply followed your heart and I'm very grateful to you for what you did. My debt to you is eternal.

- Nonsense. You owe me nothing!

The boy hugged his old mentor and friend with true affection and gratitude and said something he would never expect to hear.

- Yes, I do. I owe you my life!

For some inexplicable reason, that hug caused him a very peculiar effect. He felt light and full of life, with his heart warmed up with long lost emotions...

- I can hardly admit I was still able to feel these kind of emotions. I did not even know that it was possible to bring them out of my most basic needs...

- You think too much. It seems that you're afraid to show your feelings, as if they were a sign of weakness. I may be young yet but I can guarantee that only the strong live, truly, their feelings... and they’re not ashamed or afraid of that.

***

A few months later, the seaman received two envelopes by mail.

The smaller one enclosed a simple letter, coming from afar, written in a calligraphy he recognized immediately. The news were comforting. After a few tries, the boy had gotten a scholarship in the College of Oceanography. The money he had used earlier in order to pay his expenses, while going through admission tests, had been very well spent and the letter held the promise of returning the amount to his mentor and friend, within a reasonable time.

The man smiled. He had invested with his heart, in the success of his young friend and felt he had already obtained the profits of that venture. He was not worried about the money, in fact, but with the progress that his protégé had been achieving since he went back to the city. Life was ultimately good for the boy, in response to his efforts and capabilities.

He put the letter aside, still smiling and turned his attention to the brown envelope, larger than the other, where there was a well-known logo, printed on the upper-left corner. It was sent from a renowned firm in the city, whose name brought him some unusual memories.

He opened it with uneasy fingers. There was a message and a report from the lawyers. The letter stated that an inquiry had been opened to investigate the accident/incident and his wife’s subsequent death during the surgery procedure. A note revealed the reason for the reopening of the investigation process. They had grounds to believe that the death was not a simple and unfortunate contingency, once some witnesses had heard him arguing with his wife, about her infidelity, during the dinner at the restaurant on the night of the accident. Apparently the doctor had left the place, quite altered, emotionally. Despite the fact that he had already served time for manslaughter, he could still be convicted if deceit could be evidenced.

The man set the document back on the table. A deep sadness pressed his chest, like a straitjacket, tied with effective cruelty, hindering the movements of his soul. The wind and drizzle falling outside the grey and almost too chilly day, only intensified his melancholy and brought long time vivid memories back to his troubled mind. Two hot tears streamed down his cold face and fell on the letterhead paper lying on the table, with so unwelcome news.

***

A middle-aged man was walking along the beach, completely immersed in his thoughts. Those ghosts, who were very well concealed for so long, had decided to come back to mind and haunt him. There were days when he felt more alone than in others and that was definitely one of them. He felt sad and a sense of emptiness seemed to grow within him. At that moment, he was sensiblly charged with memories that made him emotional and somewhat frail, about to surrender to tears, but strong enough to want to stay alive.

Circumstances put people and situations in our way to assess us or to shake our balance up and get us out of our comfort zones. The Universe has its own means and plans, which life itself is unaware of. The beauty of living is exactly the surprises and unpredictability of what happens to us every day. The fisherman knew that life puts us to test, all the time, challenging our limits. It is the way to make us stronger and more tolerant, increasing our resistance to the circumstances. Living is truly a constant exercise of adaptation, endurance and strength. The good thing is that all along the road, we often find people and even animals, moments and occasions that are effectively worth it.


The autumn wind blew fresh, yet mild, against his body and his face framed by an auburn beard, misaligning his light brown hair, which has thinned on top of the head. He stopped, looked at the horizon and felt the urge to get carried away by a silent invitation. Almost instinctively, he undressed and walked into the ocean, without thinking any much. The low temperature of the waters made him feel more alive than long ago. He took a few steps ahead and dove into the chilling sea, allowing his naked body to be completely surrounded by that welcome and cooling sensation...

sábado, 25 de julho de 2015

Of Sea and Men (Part 2)


- Are you feeling well? Do you have any sign of pain?

The frown and the blank stare showed evidence that the boy was quite confused and making a huge effort to realize what was happening in the small hospital room, surrounded by people dressed in white, who were absolute strangers to him.

There was also a more mature man, wearing normal clothes, watching the whole scene, with very sharp attentive eyes, but without uttering any word. He had a somewhat friendly face, auburn beard and light brown hair thinned at the top of the head. For some reason he could not explain, he felt an immediate sympathy for the man leaning against the immaculately white wall of the hospital room.

The doctor had tested all his vital signs, auscultated his body and was now examining him with a small flashlight. They had already made all possible tests, including X-rays and ultrasound, to check how healthy his organs were. Physically, the young man was in good shape. They still needed to ascertain whether the head injury brought any side effects to his mental or cognitive response… or both…

- Can you understand what I say? Are you able to remember your name, where you come from, who you are... anything at all?

The boy showed no change in that faraway look, just a quick, almost unnoticeable eyebrow frown. He was probably trying hard to adjust the brain work and understand the message expressed by the words of the doctor, who had just examined him completely and insisted on knowing anything about him.

- Can you understand what I say?

- I understand the words, but it's all so confusing...

The pressure that was being placed on him, with those questions, did not seem to help much. It was better to leave the boy alone for some time. He needed some rest. The doctor called the older man out of the room with a nod.

***

- You were found by me on the beach, unconscious, completely naked and with a rather dreadful wound on the back of your head. We were expecting that the memory would be affected by a concussion. Can you understand what I mean?

The boy nodded.

- As much as I try, I cannot recall anything. My mind is just completely blank...

The ferry cruised toward the island, bringing those two men so different from each other, sitting side by side, each one with his own history. In each head, a different intention in relation to their complex pasts: one trying to rescue what had been forgotten and the other trying to forget what had never failed to be painfully reminded...

***

The fisherman felt he had some responsibility for the boy, for having found him and, in agreement with the hospital administration, decided to bring him back to the island to try and help him recover the lost memory.

They walked along the beach, heading for the place where he was found by the fisherman, after the stormy night. The boy slowed his pace down and looked at the man, as if he knew him well and said:

- Why do you hide yourself in this island, far from everything and everyone and with this profession that is not yours?

- How do you know that?

- I do not know how to explain. I just feel it. And I also feel that there is much more to say, but you keep on avoiding it...

- I do not avoid anything...

The older man smirked, avoiding the direct staring from the young man, who was walking beside him. He thought to himself that he did not have to give any satisfaction to him, but a strange feeling that he could trust the other man and open his heart up, crossed his mind flippantly.

Messing with the past, after all that time, did not seem to be a good thing anyway. Some skeletons ought to be kept in the cupboard forever. Best to leave the past where it well belonged in: far away in the most possible distant and untouched bygone times...

The boy carefully looked back at the man and smiled, more to himself than to be noticed, at that response, triggered, almost impatiently and without any eye contact.

- I have to respect you, not only for what you are doing to me, but for wanting to keep your secrets away from everyone. If that's what you prefer, there is nothing I can say or do. I hope you know what you're doing.

- I do know what I’m doing. Trust me... This is the place. It was here where I found you, almost dead. Do you want to be alone?

The boy looked around. Although he acknowledged the place was quiet and its natural beauty was almost untouched and wild, bringing him a sense of serenity, it did not evoke any true recollection in his mind.

- I don’t know. This place does not mean anything to me. The fact that I was found here, does not imply that the accident... or incident… took place around here, anyway.

He was right. So much could have happened: an accident, an assault, an unfortunate coincidence... The site might not have anything to do with what really happened to him.

The man looked at the boy. He did not seem to be worried about finding out where he came from or where he would go, who he had been or what he might come to find out, when he recovered his memory. Apparently, the only thing that mattered to him was being alive. He did not need to carry the unnecessary burden of a past to remember. That seemed to be enough for a man who knew so little about himself that far.

What a strange feeling! He made a quick trip inside himself and wondered how different they were. Not having a past to remember seemed to be so much easier to live with than struggling to conceal or bury one...

They were both standing side by side, looking at the horizon, each man absorbed in his own thoughts... so close and yet so far at the same time. The boy closed his eyes and felt the wind messing with his fair hair, touching his pale skin, bringing the pleasant aromas of the ocean and the seaweed and filling him with a gust of life.

Life. That was an unusually strong and weak concept at the same time. It was a reality or an illusion that we always carry along with us? How unpredictable can it be? How unreasonable it is to remain physically healthy and mentally sane? Why did those thoughts fill his mind like the air filled his chest? Why did he feel good, knowing there was nothing dearly to him in that place? Why there were so many questions and no answers at all?

He sighed, breathing the ocean air in. That place had become his all: his present and his future... and perhaps his only refuge, until now...

- Let's go back, shall we? I'm hungry. I will prepare something to eat. If you want to be left alone here for a while, it's up to you...

- I'd like just to stay here just a little longer, if it is not a problem... I enjoy this peace and this sense of silence in my soul.

- No problem, of course. Stay as long as you wish. I’ll be home anyway.

***

The older man stood up and collected the plates from the table. They had dined without exchanging many words. Although they appreciated each other's company, they did not extend the conversation long, as the issues would tend to turn around a very limited sphere of subjects which were avoided by both.

The boy picked the rest of the crockery and cutlery up and put them carefully in the sink. He turned around, walked out to the veranda and leant on the deck rail, looking at the empty darkness and listening, not far away, the soft, monotonous song of the sea. The air was cold, but he did not care much. He liked the mild fresh air of the autumn and the typical sounds of the night on the island.

The other man was watching, from inside the house, that man so much younger than him, with so much life still ahead and no memory to relive at all. At least, he thought, he had no reason to feel any nostalgia...

How many plans might have been made at some point in his short life, and were abandoned without any completion? How many possibilities would also be opened for him in the future? Probably many of them would be regarded as if they had never been planned, although they had been... A page... or many, yet all blank and with so much still to be written by the hands of fate. It was as if the previous pages had been torn apart from that precious book, leaving it almost like new and ready to be used as if it were the first time. All he had to do was to start from that point on and rewrite many interesting new stories...

The fisherman thought of himself and how he wished he could have a chance, too, to rewrite his own life story. He sadly laughed at himself, thinking that there, in the same house, there were two human beings so different from each other and with such opposite intentions in relation to their pasts. Funny thing, however, they had yet so much future ahead of them.

He walked into the porch with a mug of hot coffee in his hands and offered the other man, who accepted it, smiling. He leaned on the railing next to the boy. They were both looking at the immense open darkness around them, with their thoughts flying free with the night wind and listening to the monotonous lapping of the ocean continuously caressing the island coastline.

- You already paid for your mistakes. You could have already forgiven yourself and moved on with your life.

- How do you know if I’ve already paid? How can you tell me to get on with my life? Am I not living another life already?

- It's not what your eyes show... They always have such a great aloofness and this sadness is so touching...

The man closed himself in his shell. He did not want to relive the anguish and the sense of guilt he once felt. Yes, he had already paid that painful punishment.

A surgical procedure, where the patient had not survived the intervention, was a severe enough reason to stay live in his memory for long. Yes, he had operated drunk, but what choice did he have? Anyway, he had been tried and convicted. The verdict was manslaughter and he was incarcerated for three years for the crime, without any right for bail, due to his act of negligence. He had duly paid his guilt in its entirety, despite the reduction attempts, made by an expensive lawyer known by his expertise. The process culminated with the loss of the license and the right to exercise the medical profession, definitely.

Between the feelings of remorse and indignation, he had buried everything inside his heart and restarted, on that island, away from everyone he had known one day and that had abandoned him completely, while he was imprisoned. There, in the island, he was a total stranger and his past did not matter to anyone. What he liked in the community, was that he could have his own private life and no one seemed interested in knowing more than what he wanted to show. He had no interest in knowing about the lives of others either. He had no time or curiosity about their histories anyway.

But towards the young man with no past, he felt a genuine interest. Somewhere inside his soul and for a reason he did not really care about, he felt he should help him out of that situation. In his heart, he felt responsible for that boy, at least until he recovered his memory and moved on with his own life.

***

 The doctor came, as usual, on a pale cold Thursday and called them to his office. He examined the boy and asked how he was feeling. Then he asked him to sit down. By the way he started the conversation, he seemed set to make a serious statement. He picked up a brown envelope from inside his briefcase, cleared his throat out and said:

- I just received this Police Report. I believe you will find it pretty interesting...

He handed the envelope in to the boy and waited for his reaction. He opened it, read the report and handed it in to the fisherman, so he could read it too. The doctor acknowledged that was a clear demonstration of trust. The older man flipped through the few pages and returned the report to its rightful owner.

- It does make sense. Do you think that helps?

- I don’t know yet. For now, there is nothing much I can say. It seems my memory is not instantly restored simply by reading the report, after all. It does not work that way, no matter how hard I try to do so.

The doctor finished a complete check-up and dismissed himself from work, since there was no one else to be seen that day. He invited the two men to go along with him to the Coffee Shop and chat a little more relaxed.


The doctor knew that the heads of the two... and his also... were working briskly. The coffee was just a subtle excuse to discuss what they had just read and, besides that, he still had some time before going back to the mainland that night…

***