Stares (Part 2)

By the time I got to work the next day, I was almost too late, because it took me way too long to fall back asleep. It was Thursday, and to confirm my displeasure for the worst day of the week, I was called up for a meeting that lasted all morning long and did not allow me any time to think of anything else but the decisions I had to make during the meeting.

When I left for lunch, it was way past my normal time and I had to go to a restaurant near the office, along with some of my colleagues who attended the same meeting.

I ordered a grilled fish with rice and salad, which was better than I expected, for the meal it was. I was distracted by the informal conversation when the waiter brought a glass of red wine and placed in front of me. As I had not ordered wine to drink, because it was a normal work day, I declined the offer, but he pointed at a table on the opposite end of the large room and said:

- It's a courtesy from that client...

I looked in that direction and saw a man dressed in dark clothes lifting his glass of wine and moving his lips in what seemed to me he was saying 'cheerio'.

For some reason, I felt a pinch in my stomach and did not want to drink it, but I thought better and decided that it was more convenient to force myself and take it in spite of the apprehension I felt. My colleagues finished their meal before I did and got up, but I said it would take me a while longer, still.

When I was alone, I looked in the direction where my beneficiary had once sat, but I did not see him anymore. I got up and walked on to the cashier. The young man on duty told me that the bill was already paid, which I found it odd, once we did not usually pay each other's bills on a work day.

- The customer who paid the bill asked me to give you this...

It was only then that I realized that it had not been any of my colleagues who had paid off my small debt for that simple meal. He handed me a folded paper with a little sign scribbled in black on the outside of the message.

I unfolded the paper and looked around, but I no longer saw the man. I was intrigued as I remembered what he had told me on the phone.

I should have suspected that the offer of a glass of wine was not exactly what I should call a conversation, as he had clearly indicated, when he called me at that hour of the night at home. Since I did not go to lunch alone, he decided to postpone the conference for another occasion, which left me somewhat relieved. But having my meal paid for by a stranger, made me feel rather uncomfortable.

Anyway, I did not know if I was ready for a conversation with that character... yet...

I had no way of knowing what he wanted from me and I found that story very strange. In fact, he gave me more time to prepare for when the time came. Postponing such a meeting was the best thing one could do.

As I prepared to cross the street, I felt a strain on my arm and turned around, surprised and frightened.

A well-dressed woman in a dark grey suit and hair tied behind her head in a well-fitted bun had pulled me back, milliseconds before a black car passed at high speed, very close to the curb where we were.

- Careful! He crossed a red light!

I felt completely stupid.

- Thank you. My mind was elsewhere...

- It's not a good strategy being that distracted when you cross the street.

- True... I'll be more careful. Thank you so much.

She smiled condescendingly, crossing the pedestrian lane and disappearing among the passers-by who were walking in and out the busy sidewalk. A cold sweat ran down my body, although it was a pleasant and warm day.

'Careless fool! And to make matters worse, as if I needed it, this happens on the day of the week I hate most! Fucking odd Thursday!'

***

By mid-afternoon I was so immersed in an assignment that I did not notice the phone ringing insistently. A colleague called my attention and I picked it up immediately. The hoarse, familiar voice on the other end said:

- You must be more careful when crossing the streets. Careless people might get hurt...

- Yes. I know…

- Was the wine any good? I think it tasted a bit too fruity to match the fish.

- It was a full-bodied one, I agree. But that's how I like it. It was very good. Thanks for the offer.

- Great. You’re welcome.

Before I said anything else, I heard the line go off and I stayed there, with the phone still in my ear, as if I thought the conversation was yet not finished. It was getting bored and a little disturbed, to say the truth.

Someone called me to attend another unscheduled meeting and there I was busy for the rest of the afternoon and a little bit of the evening after the normal closing of the day, once again.

When I left the office, it was already past eight o'clock and I was visibly tired. I thought it would be a good idea buying something in a take-away on the way, instead of preparing any food, so I had less work and could eat as soon as I got home. Then I could finally rest from the long day. I could not even think very clearly. I just wanted to get home, eat something and lie down immediately afterwards.

The BBQ chicken was still hot when I started eating and the chips were crunchy and tasty. I pondered on how good it was to be simple. The cat got his small portion of chopped chicken breast and he was still happy savouring it when I finished my dinner. After having the dishes placed in the washing machine, I checked the cat’s bowl of water just to make sure I was not going to miss anything and prepared to rest.

I fell asleep in no time.

In the middle of the night, I woke up with the impression that there was someone else in the apartment. I looked around and noticed that the cat, my reference, was awake and staring out of the room. I got up and switched all the lights on, went to the kitchen, then to the living room but I did not see anyone else.

I also checked the entrance door to certify it was well locked from inside.

‘I must have dreamed of something I can’t remember... or I am starting to go somewhat deranged...’

When I turned around to go back to my bedroom, I realized the living room window was open, to my complete astonishment. That was unacceptable, as I used to keep all windows shut so the cat would not go out without my knowing. I did not remember having opened it at all. I would never be that careless… or would I?

‘I have to stop this nonsense! I'm going to end up in a padded cell!’

***

The next day I was so busy that I did not have time to think about any other thing but work. Fortunately, it was the last day of the week and thus I could rest for the next two days. I was looking forward to it.

I got home so tired that even the cat was surprised he did not get enough attention, but he lay down beside me on the couch and fell asleep with me, as if he understood that I needed his support too.

The phone rang just a few minutes before midnight.

The same hoarse voice, quiet and monotonous, showed an affinity that he did not really possess.

- You should not sleep on the couch. You will get up with a sore back and neck.

- And how do you know I'm on the couch?

- You're still not convinced, are you? What do you believe, anyway?

- I'm a man with a totally rational mind. I do not believe in anything I cannot prove scientifically.

- There are many baffling mysteries in this world. You should be more open to the experiences you cannot support with your logic. Who guarantees that there are no other dimensions beyond this one?

- Other dimensions? You must be kidding me...

The man did not argue. I could hear his heavy breathing on the other side of the line. I did not know what was coming next. To my surprise, before I said anything else, he hung up.

‘What does he want from me? Other dimensions? What the hell was that? I only know three dimensions... and sometimes I’m not even sure of those!

***

- You must be open to perception. It is not enough to believe. You must accept it.

- But this can only be an illusion... I cannot believe it!

- Open your mind. There is nothing impossible, as you can well see.

I shut up. I was being preposterous. If that was not enough to believe, then what would it be?

He showed me the way, letting me go though and then began to walk beside me. I did not even know what to think. There was nothing minimally appropriate to say. When looking around, it all seemed to be like a souvenir shop, with many galleries opening, like the sewer tunnels underneath the city... with the exception we were not under the city and the galleries were not empty or dark. The various entrances and exits led to many strategic points, as if they were access portals to that place. They changed places, constantly, as if designed to prevent them from being detected, which made a certain sense.

- This side serves as a balance to the other, but now it's totally chaotic, because of the mercilessness that are continuously happening on that side. Things have gotten out of control and the balance is getting harder and harder to reach.

- And why am I here?

The man stopped and looked at me with a strange face, as if he could not believe my naivety.

- Someone on this side has sent me to show you what's going on and ask for your help.

- Help? Who could need my help?

He just looked over my shoulder.

- Me.

I turned around quickly to see who had spoken. My legs shook and I almost choked. I tried to sound normal, but my voice betrayed me completely.

- I should have known better...

Olhares (Parte 2)

Quando cheguei ao trabalho, no dia seguinte, estava praticamente atrasado, pois demorei a adormecer e perdi a hora. Era quinta-feira e, para confirmar minha ojeriza ao pior dia da semana, desde há muito, fui chamado para uma reunião, que durou a manhã inteira e que não deixou-me tempo para pensar em mais nada, a não ser as decisões que eram exigidas ao grupo.

Quando saí para o almoço, já era passado da minha hora normal e tive que ir a um restaurante próximo do escritório, junto com alguns dos colegas, que participaram da mesma reunião.

Pedi um peixe grelhado com arroz e salada, que estava melhor que eu esperava, para a refeição que era. Estava distraído com a conversa, quando o rapaz que servia à mesa trouxe uma taça de vinho tinto e pousou à minha frente. Como eu não havia pedido vinho para beber, por ser um dia de trabalho normal, recusei o pedido, mas ele apontou para uma mesa na extremidade oposta e disse:

- É cortesia daquele cliente…

Eu olhei naquela direção e vi um homem vestido com roupas escuras a levantar a sua taça de vinho e mexer os lábios, no que pareceu-me ser votos de ‘saúde’.

Por algum motivo, senti uma pontada no estômago e não quis beber, de imediato, mas pensei melhor e decidi que era mais conveniente forçar-me, apesar da apreensão. Meus colegas terminaram a refeição antes de mim e levantaram-se, mas eu disse que ia demorar-me um pouco, ainda.

Quando fiquei a sós, olhei para o local onde antes havia sentado meu beneficiário, mas já não o vi. Levantei-me e fui até o caixa. O rapaz que estava de serviço disse-me que a conta estava paga, o que eu achei estranho, pois nós não costumamos pagar, em dia de trabalho, as contas uns dos outros. Foi quando ele entregou-me um papel dobrado com um pequeno sinal rabiscado a preto, ao lado de fora da mensagem.

- O cliente que pagou a conta pediu-me para entregar-lhe este bilhete…

Foi então que eu percebi que não havia sido nenhum dos meus colegas que havia saldado minha pequena dívida daquela refeição.

Desdobrei a mensagem e olhei à volta, mas já não avistei o tal homem. Li, intrigado, e lembrei-me do que ele havia-me falado ao telefone.

Eu devia desconfiar que a oferta de uma taça de vinho não era, exatamente, aquilo que eu deveria chamar de uma conversa, como ele havia indicado claramente, quando ligou-me, àquela hora da noite. Como não fui almoçar sozinho, ele resolveu adiar a conferência para outra ocasião, o que deixou-me, de certa forma, aliviado. Mas ter a minha refeição paga por um estranho, deixava-me bastante desconfortável.

De todo jeito, eu não sabia se estava preparado para uma conversa com aquele personagem… ainda…

Não tinha como saber do que se tratava e achava aquela história toda muito estranha. Na verdade, ele dava-me mais tempo, para me preparar para um encontro, quando chegasse a hora. Adiar a tal reunião, era o melhor que se podia fazer.

Quando preparei-me para atravessar a rua, senti uma pressão no braço e voltei-me, entre surpreso e assustado.

Uma moça bem vestida, com um tailleur cinza escuro e os cabelos presos atrás da cabeça, num coque bem arranjado, havia-me puxado para trás, milésimos de segundos antes de um carro preto passar, em alta velocidade, muito próximo da calçada.

- Cuidado! Ele avançou o sinal vermelho!

- Obrigado. Estava mesmo absorto…

- Não é uma boa estratégia distrair-se ao atravessar a rua.

- É verdade… Vou tomar mais cuidado. Agradeço imensamente.

Ela sorriu, condescendentemente, atravessando a faixa de pedestres e perdendo-se no meio dos transeuntes que iam e vinham pela calçada movimentada. Um suor frio correu-me pelo corpo, apesar de estar um dia agradavelmente morno.

‘Descuido. Grande descuido! E, para piorar, numa quinta-feira. Odeio isso, tanto quanto as quintas-feiras!’

***

A meio da tarde, estava tão envolvido com um trabalho, que não percebi o telefone tocar insistentemente. Um colega chamou-me à atenção e eu atendi de pronto. A voz rouca e conhecida, do outro lado da linha, falou:

- Deves ter mais cautela ao atravessar a rua. As pessoas descuidadas podem machucar-se…

- É. Eu sei…

- O vinho estava bom? Pareceu-me um pouco frutado demais, para acompanhar o peixe.

- Era bastante denso e encorpado, eu concordo. Mas é como eu gosto. Estava muito bom. Obrigado pela oferta.

- Ótimo. Não há de quê.

Antes que eu dissesse mais qualquer coisa, ouvi o som da linha desligar e fiquei ali, parado, como o telefone ao ouvido, como se desacreditasse que a conversa fosse somente aquela. Aquilo estava ficando, além de entediante, também um pouco perturbador.

Alguém chamou-me e eu tive que participar de outra reunião não programada, o que deixou-me ocupado pelo resto da tarde e um pedacinho da noite, após o encerramento do expediente normal.

Quando saí do escritório, já passava das oito da noite e eu estava visivelmente cansado. Pensei em comprar algo num ‘take-away’ a caminho de casa, ao invés de preparar comida, pois assim tinha menos trabalho e comia logo que chegasse. Depois podia descansar do longo dia. Já nem conseguia pensar muito claramente. Eu só queria chegar em casa, comer e deitar-me.

O frango no churrasco ainda estava quente quando comecei a comer e as batatas fritas bem firmes e saborosas. Pensei em como era bom ser simples. O gato ganhou uma porção de peito de frango picado e ainda estava feliz da vida a saboreá-la, quando terminei o meu jantar. Arranjei a louça na máquina de lavar, dei uma olhada na tigela de água do bichano, para certificar-me que não ia faltar-lhe nada e fui arranjar-me para repousar.

Adormeci em pouco tempo.

A meio da madrugada, acordei-me sobressaltado, com a impressão que havia mais alguém dentro de casa. Olhei à volta e percebi que o gato, minha referência, estava acordado e a olhar fixamente para um ponto fora do quarto. Levantei-me e acendi todas a luzes, fui até a cozinha, depois à sala, mas não vi ninguém.

Verifiquei, também, se a porta de entrada estava bem trancada por dentro, para ficar mais aliviado.

‘Devo ter sonhado com algo que não consigo lembrar… ou estou começando a enlouquecer…’   

Quando eu virei-me para voltar ao quarto, percebi que a janela da sala estava aberta, para minha surpresa. Aquilo era absolutamente inaceitável, pois eu sempre mantinha as janelas bem fechadas, para evitar que o gato saísse sem que eu soubesse. Eu não lembrava mesmo de havê-la aberto. Eu nunca seria tão descuidado… ou seria?

‘Tenho que parar com esta paranóia! Vou acabar indo parar num hospício!’

***

No dia seguinte, estive tão ocupado com o trabalho, que não tive tempo de pensar em muitas coisas. Pelo menos era o último dia útil da semana e eu ia poder descansar nos dois dias seguintes.

Cheguei em casa tão cansado, que até o gato estranhou que não ganhou carinho suficiente, mas deitou-se ao meu lado, no sofá e adormeceu comigo, como se compreendesse que eu também precisava do suporte dele.

O telefone tocou quando faltavam poucos minutos para a meia-noite.

A mesma voz rouca, tranquila e monótona, demonstrava uma afinidade que não possuía, na realidade.

- Não devias dormir no sofá. Vais levantar com dores no corpo.

- E como é que sabes que eu estou no sofá?

- Pelo jeito ainda não estás convencido… No que é que tu acreditas, afinal?

- Eu sou um homem de mente totalmente racional. Não acredito em nada que não possa provar cientificamente.

- Existem muitos mistérios inexplicáveis neste mundo. Devias ser mais aberto às experiências que não consegues provar com a tua lógica. Quem é que garante que não existem outras dimensões além dessa?

- Outras dimensões? Deves estar a brincar comigo…

O homem não argumentou. Eu ouvia sua respiração pesada, do outro lado da linha, sem saber o que viria a seguir. Para minha surpresa, antes que eu dissesse mais qualquer coisa, ele desligou.

O que ele quer comigo? Conversa mais estranha! Outra dimensão? Que porcaria é essa? Só conheço três dimensões… e olhe lá!

***

- Era preciso que tu estivesses aberto para a perceção. Não basta acreditar. É preciso aceitar.

- Mas isso só pode ser uma ilusão… Não posso acreditar!

- Abra a mente. Não há nada impossível, como podes perceber.

Eu calei-me. Estava-me passando por ridículo. Se ver não for suficiente para crer, então o que será?

Ele apontou-me o caminho, deixando-me passar e logo começou a andar ao meu lado. Eu nem sabia o que pensar. Não havia o que dizer. Aquilo parecia uma loja de souvenirs, com muitas galerias que se abriam, como os túneis de esgotos por baixo da cidade… só que não estávamos por baixo da cidade e as galerias não estavam vazias, nem escuras. As várias entradas e saídas levavam a muitos pontos estratégicos, como se fossem portais de acesso. Estes mudavam de lugar, constantemente, como se pretendessem impedir que fossem detectados, o que fazia um certo sentido.

- Este lado serve de equilíbrio para o outro, mas agora está totalmente caótico, por causa das barbaridades que acontecem daquele lado. As coisas ficaram fora de controlo e o equilíbrio está cada vez mais difícil.

- E por que eu estou aqui?

O homem parou e olhou-me, com um ar estranho.

- Alguém do lado de cá enviou-me para mostrar-te o que acontece e pedir-te ajuda.

- Ajuda? Quem poderia necessitar de minha ajuda?

Ele olhou por cima dos meus ombros, como se não conseguisse acreditar que eu fosse tão ingénuo.

- Eu.

Virei-me rapidamente, para ver quem havia falado. Minhas pernas tremeram e eu senti um aperto na garganta. Tentei parecer normal, mas minha voz traiu-me completamente.

- Eu já devia esperar…

***

Stares (Part 1)

I do not like social occasions. I really dislike gatherings, cocktail parties and happy hours. I can tolerate a dinner with friends, but just with no more than a few people. The noise of a lot of people talking, especially if they are loud, bothers me. I can open exceptions, but they would be very scarce.

On one of these rare occasions, I was at a painting vernissage, invited by one of the artists, a friend of long date, who was participating in a show like that for the first time, after much insistence of his friends and acquaintances. He did not think his artwork was mature enough to become public, but everyone insisted that his paintings were very good and he eventually gave in. I had to agree that there was still a long way to go for what he might call "mature", but they were far better than many of the other artworks on display there.

I accepted the invitation to give him the support new artists need and also to break my own preconceived taboos and ideas about going out on a weekday evening. I had already decided that I would stay just long enough to be noticed by my friend and give him some public support, but I knew he would be quite busy with the other guests and would not be upset if I left early. He knew that my presence at such events could already be considered a rarity, so he would not be disappointed if I went home before the end of the event.

I glanced over at the group of people present, pacing back and forth, leisurely, pretending they liked what they were seeing, as if they knew more than they did of modern art. The wine was of good quality, but nothing exceptional. The food was good, but not luxurious or overly sophisticated. The purpose of the catering was not to keep the guests focused on eating, but to create the atmosphere of a certain formality.

I was feeling displaced, as almost always, among strangers. I would rather be at home listening to music, reading, or just playing with the cat. But one has to support a friend every now and then...

Someone bumped into me and some white wine spilt on the sleeve of my coat. A meagre apology and a strategic leaving me alone followed my awkward 'it’s all right'. It was, definitely, not all right. I set the glass down on a table and tried to go to the bathroom and quickly wash the wine from my coat so it would not do any more damage it had already done.

On my way back, determined to leave the place immediately, I sought out my artist friend in order to bid him farewell, but he was busy with a group of women who were laughing loudly and not discreetly.

- Rookies!

I thought and said that aloud.

For some reason my eyes were drawn towards the staircase that led to the mezzanine, where there were a few other paintings exposed. A man dressed in black was staring at me and seemed to smile. I was not sure if it was for me, but a shiver ran up my spine. He had a glass of red wine in his hand and lifted it, as if toasting with me. I looked back, but there was no one around who he could be looking at in the same direction. When I turned back again, he was gone. I looked around, but I could not find him.

'Strange thing', I thought. 'Why did he look at me like that? This cannot be normal or I must be really drunk.'

I left the place right away.

My annoyance did not last long. On my way home, I no longer thought about that little incident and went back to my normal state. I do not like driving and the traffic makes me tense, so I try not to think too much when I'm in the car.

Back at home, I was happy with my normal solitude and usual my hermit condition. I got rid of my formal clothes and put on my old pajamas, ready to go to bed. I almost forgot that the sleeve of my coat needed to dry right before being hung back in the closet, so as soon as I finished brushing my teeth and got ready for bed, I walked back into the living room and laid it on the back of a chair.

I fell asleep so fast I did not even have time to think about anything else. I did not even notice when the cat climbed onto bed and lay down at my feet...

***

He lifted the glass of red wine and smiled. I tried to look away, but I could not. There was something in his gaze that I felt intriguing and at the same time frightening. He moved his lips, as if to say something, but I did not hear any sound. What was he trying to tell me? Would it be important? What does he want from me?

Someone passed in front of me and that distraction broke my eye contact. When I looked back, he was not there anymore.

‘Déjà vu’

"This has happened before," I said aloud.

- But not this way...

I had a fright. I did not expect anyone to hear me.

The man dressed in black, next to me, offered me a glass of red wine, without saying anything else. I took the glass and brought it to my lips, keeping eye contact with him. 

He smiled in a strange way.

I realized that something was wrong and looked at the contents of the goblet, which fell out of my hand, as soon as I realized it was something else...

The dense, red blood in it splashed across the floor and onto my clothes as the crystal broke into millions of pieces against the dark granite of the floor.

I woke up with a shriek, sweating and panting like an animal after a long run.

- Shame! That was just a dream…

I had not thought about how that little incident had left such a strong mark on my subconscious, coming back to life during my sleep...

***

Going back to my routine, the day after, was enough to keep my mind busy with work and my normal chores, at least until the evening. Sometimes, however, when I was distracted, I had the sensation of seeing those eyes peeking from somewhere, but I concluded that it was just a mere impression... Just a game the mind plays...

When I left the office, I rushed to the metro station. I never used to go to the city center by car, because of the difficulties of finding places and also because of the cost of parking. It was much more practical to use the subway system. It worked very well and, besides being very practical, was also quite efficient and inexpensive.

I went downstairs and walked to the platform, which was already quite busy, at that hour of the afternoon. It's funny to watch the passers-by coming in and out of the vehicles and imagine where they are going to and where they come from, with their stories, their problems, their joys, their desires...

I was looking vaguely at a couple of women who were talking enthusiastically in front of me when the vehicle arrived on the opposite platform. My attention was naturally directed to that side and I kept watching the people moving in and out until the group of carriages left, as quickly as they came. The character dressed in black and staring at me, caused me an obvious discomfort. I was out of action for a few seconds, until I realized he bowed his head and moved his lips as if he were telling me something. I frowned, but did not respond. The subway car stopped in front of me and the focus of my attention was soon diverted. I walked into the vehicle and looked out the window, but I saw no one on the opposite platform. I had not been wrong. 

He was there and I was feeling I was being chased.

- What the hell was that? Again…

The girl, standing next, laughed at me, when she noticed I was talking to myself.

***

- Why do you wear that awful sleeping shirt?

- What the f…? How do you…

The voice on the other end of the telephone line was hoarse, almost provocative, as if the caller wanted only to show that he knew what he was talking about, but did not want to cause an unnecessary commotion.

The lights were off and I could not remember wearing that piece of clothing before coming into the bedroom, ready for bed. The curtains were closed, so I did not immediately understand how anyone would know that I was dressed in that striped shirt of various colors, which I myself admitted was ridiculous, but it was very comfortable to sleep after all.

I did not turn on the lights. I rolled over to the side and searched for some strange light, like the one that reveals a hidden camera, but I did not see any. How that creature knew what was going on inside my room? I sat on the bed without turning the lights on. The cat jumped from the foot of the bed where it was nestled and stared at me walking toward the door, lit by the faint clarity of the phone I held.

- Do not let the kitten run out of water. He must be thirsty.

- What? What kind of joke is this?

The sign that the line disconnecting followed and to my surprise the cat returned to the room, but did not lie down. He made a move as if to leave, as he did when he wanted something, and I followed him into the kitchen. He stopped and looked at me, sitting on the blue carpet, where the bowl of water was, empty, to my utter astonishment.

I filled it up and also a large empty glass of instant coffee that I always kept full of water on the sink, wondering how they had emptied, if nobody but me had access to the apartment. I shook my head, as if dismissing a bad thought and went back to bed, unwilling to think about it or I would not sleep.

Six minutes after lying down, not exactly to my surprise, the phone rang again...

I heard the heavy breathing on the other side of the line. The same hoarse voice spoke, quietly but firmly.

- I hope I have convinced you that we have things to talk about. We should meet tomorrow at lunchtime. Do not miss...

- But where?

- Do not worry about it...

***