sábado, 17 de novembro de 2018

Obliviar (Parte 1: O mensageiro que veio antes)




Esta estranha bruma de lembranças
Que se desfaz lentamente,
Como se fosse poeira,
Faz meu coração bater sereno
E minha alma repousar,
Numa paz silenciosa e calma.
Deito minha cabeça numa grande almofada
De brancas plumas,
Em uma cama de pétalas rubras,
Para sonhar com anjos
A aplacar minha dor.
Suas asas me envolvem
O corpo e a alma
E me trazem o conforto,
E a protecção morna
De amantes que se abrigam
E se protegem
Num tíbio e terno abraço.

***

- Por que ainda choras por isto? Já foi há tanto tempo. Isto pertence ao passado.

- Acho que nunca ultrapassei aquilo, na verdade.

- Devias. Isso não é bom para ti.

Aquele jovem, cujos olhos nunca pareciam acompanhar o sorrir dos lábios, numa entrega por inteiro, até tentou, mas o que conseguiu foi mostrar uma careta estranha. Por qual razão ele mantinha seu coração num luto constante, depois de tanto tempo? Aquilo já não fazia sentido.

***

Os dois amigos sentaram-se nas cadeiras de balanço, que estavam instaladas na varanda, a olhar o sol a se pôr, lenta e silenciosamente, no horizonte. Cada qual estava tão absorto em seus próprios pensamentos, que a interrupção foi quase como uma interferência à aquela quietude, como se a paz tivesse sido violada, mas que, ao mesmo tempo, soava apenas como uma extensão do pensamento, que vinha a se concretizar em palavras.

- Uma vez eu tive um irmão.

- Bom, agora tens a mim. Sou quase como um irmão para ti, de todo o jeito. Alguns amigos são mais próximos que irmãos, sabias?

- Nunca pensei nisso, na realidade.

- Dizem que os amigos são os irmãos que nós escolhemos para conviver connosco.

- De onde tu tiras estas coisas, afinal?

- Eu leio muito, na verdade…

O rapaz que usava óculos tentou sorrir, mas não pareceu funcionar. Seu amigo estava preocupado com sua sanidade, já que ele parecia estar sempre tão distante, ultimamente. Eles haviam evitado falar sobre o passado, por muito tempo. Mas os fantasmas simplesmente não desaparecem da memória, por mais que se deseje isso. Eles podem se esconder por uns tempos, mas nunca morrem. Parecia que aquela era uma das ocasiões em que eles vinham das trevas, de onde se escondiam, para expor-se à luz, por alguma razão inexplicável.

- Tu não pensas no que aconteceu? Nunca sentes falta deles, às vezes?

- Deles?

- Tua família…

- Claro que sim.

- Ainda bem que sim. Ultimamente tenho pensado muito neles.

- Por qual razão?

- Sinto tanto a falta deles.

- Tu sabes que o passado está enterrado… e bem fundo… literalmente…

- Talvez não…

O rapaz olhou para o amigo. Seus olhos estavam tão perdidos na distância. A dor e a tristeza eram tão evidentes, que pareciam materializar-se ali, na frente deles.

- Temos que tocar a vida para a frente, como sempre fizemos.

- Ah. Tá. Como se fosse fácil. Eu gostaria de poder viajar no tempo e mudar o que aconteceu. As coisas podiam ser tão diferentes agora.

- É. Só que não podemos.

- Tens certeza disto?

Ele sorriu. Parecia que uma ideia completamente insana se formava em sua mente.

- No que é que estás a pensar?

- Eu tive uma ideia. Há alguém que devemos visitar no fim-de-semana, quando ninguém vai suspeitar de uma saída do quartel.

- Ah. Não!

***

- Não é possível, de jeito nenhum! Se fosse, eu já podia ter voltado lá.

- Lá? Já não existe lá. Aquilo foi explodido e completamente destruído.

- Talvez se voltasse um pouco antes da destruição…

- Aquele mundo já não está lá…

- Tu não ias entender. Nem sei se eu entendo, se pensar bem na situação.

- Tem que haver um jeito. É muito importante para mim… para nós…

- Vocês não entendem. Eu não posso ajudá-los. Eu sou apenas um clone, não um cientista. Eu sou a criatura, não o criador…

***

- Tem que haver um jeito.

- Deixa de ser bobo. Tu sabes que não há… pelo menos por agora… nesta era.

- Eu não vou desistir.

- Pois devias. Já soas como um louco.

***
Oumuamua?

"Um mensageiro de longe, que chega primeiro".

- Eu imagino a confusão que está a causar aos cientistas, para tentar explicar a aparição.

- Pois. Mas as teorias são muito vãs, por enquanto.

- Eu tenho uma e acho que é a chave para o que procuramos.

- Pare com isso! Nunca ouvi tamanha loucura. 

- Tenho certeza que nosso amigo vai concordar comigo. Vamos visitá-lo mais uma vez...

- Oh, meu Deus! Lá vamos nós de novo!

***



domingo, 11 de novembro de 2018

The Ginger Fox (Epilogue)



The rented house, in the outskirts of the city and close to the woods, not far from the ‘Ost Autobahn’, was especially chosen so we could have a nice week-long-staying in Vienna, with a different type of the luxury we would have at a hotel, but being intimate at the same time and free to have our privacy and our meals at any time, without any tight schedules. It was cheaper than a hotel anyway and it was a bargain I found on the internet.

- We really need to talk.

The conversation had been postponed due to the movement and noise of the crowd in and out of the Café at the station and our tourist visit agenda.

Now, that we were back home and had a light meal, he came back to the point where we had stopped some hours before.

He held both my hands in his. I looked into his green eyes. His pupils dilated as he returned the stare. I took it as a good sign.

- We cannot go on like this for much longer.

My heart missed a beat. ‘What is he talking about? I must have misread the signals. How did I…?’

I tried to understand.

- Like what?

- Like this… (He hesitated…) situation… relationship... whatever you would call it.

‘Oh, my sweet Lord. What is this now? Is he trying to say he is leaving me? Why?’

I felt a punch in my stomach.

- What are you trying to say? You’re scaring me.

- Don’t be scared. I’m trying to be as clear as possible.

- Well, you’re not succeeding and I’m more than just scared to death now. What is it?

- Calm down, please.

I took a deep breath. That was not supposed to be happening… He kept on holding my hands firmly, although I tried to escape from his grip a couple of times.

A strange sound on the outside interrupted that very awkward moment. I pulled my hands out of his and went off the back door, feeling relieved for a moment. My head was aching. I needed to breathe…

***

- It seems we are always being led to meet foxes in our ways, for some strange reason.

He was trying to catch up. I was not comfortable yet and small talk was not my thing at that moment.

- Yes. The poor animal was just trying to eat. Funny it was a ginger fox…

He missed that hint.

- Well, now it’s going to enjoy your gift, anyway. It was very sensible of you to give it a piece of meat…

- It was the least I could do…

I was not facing him. I wanted everything to be OK. I was afraid of what that serious conversation was going to be lead to and was not sure I wanted to hear what he was going to say. I had a demon on my back, whispering in my ear, telling me I was going to be seriously hurt.

‘For how long can one pretend not to listen to the obvious?’

- We really need to conclude this talk.

‘Oh, man… it is now!’

- I’ll try to be as clear and brief as possible.

- I hope you can.

- I thought a lot about us and our situation and I think we need to change it. We should not go on like this anymore…

- What’s wrong with this situation, anyway? We are happy.

- Yes, we are, but…

- There’s no but… if we are happy, why do we need to change it?

He gave up. He knew me and he knew I would not listen to his arguments, once I was in a very unsettled state of mind.

- OK, then. You’re not being reasonable. We talk later.

***

I smiled when he lit the match and then the little candle, having both hands around the tiny flame that progressed from diffident to stronger in a few seconds, painting his face with an amber tint. I was watching him closely. Then he blew the  flame out of the match and looked at me in awe.

- Now, what?

I sang the song.

“Anyone can light a candle
But not the way that you do
For if we look too close
Pure magic we would see
Pure magic we will be” (*The Candle Song – Jon Anderson & Vangelis)

He laughed at me.

- You’re funny. Sometimes you’re practical and sometimes so romantically silly. It’s just a candle. How can one light it another way? Now, let’s dine.

My time to give up. He was still smiling… that lovely grin of his. I was still worried.

- Ok. It’s just a candle, but I love the way you light it. It’s so unique, as if you were protecting it from extinguishing with such care. That makes my heart warm up.

- Yeah. Right. Will you pour me some wine now, please?

He was, in general, so adorably and sharply shy, especially when he pretended to be nothing but practical. I knew that was a defensive behaviour, only, so I let it go softly, took the bottle of dense red and poured him some, pretending I was saying, just casually:

- Of course.

He looked at me very serious and fired:

- You did not want to listen to my talk, but I need to tell you, anyway. I had a formal phone call not long ago and I was offered a very good opportunity, coincidentally here in Vienna and I am prone to accept it, so good it is to my life and career.

- Oh...

Caught in surprise, I was speechless. I kind of knew it was a very serious thing and I was right.

- But the reason I told you we cannot go on like this anymore is that I don’t want to be here without you. I know you can move as well, if you organize some things the right way.

- Yes, but it’s not that easy…

- I know, but I want you to consider marrying me. That can make things easier.

- What? What are you talking about?

- Don’t you want to?

- No. I mean, I don’t know. I never thought about it that way.

‘Oh, man… I was so awfully wrong’…

- Then don’t give me a definite answer now. Think about it…. For a while, at least.

***

- I’m so sleepy. I think that wine got me knocked out. I can hardly stay awake.

He giggled. Then he kissed me.

- It was a very good wine, my dear. Not like back home but very good anyway. Now you have some rest. Or maybe don’t… even… bother… to…

I did not open my eyes. He started unbuttoning my shirt and kissing my body… slowly and tenderly, finding his way all over my naked skin, front and back.

I surrendered to him… completely, feeling the heat coming up and down my body, my mind absolutely disconnected from everything else but his gentle caresses and his warm kisses.

He found the spot behind my ear and rubbed his ginger beard up and down, kissing it provocatively, covering my skin with uncontrolled goose bumps. Then he whispered in my ear.

- Think about the proposal I made, will you?

- The answer is yes…

- You’re drunk.

I giggled.

- I am.

***


sábado, 3 de novembro de 2018

The Ginger Fox (Part 2)



The wind blew through us, making his hair swirl like a volcano spitting red burning lava. I felt a chill going down my spine. He was still staring at me. My body was getting too stiff, when he spoke:

- A coffee and nothing else?

I nodded affirmatively.

- Uh-hum…

- Why not?

- OK.

- By the way, I’m Roidh.

I relaxed a little bit.

- Roy?

He giggled. I blushed, feeling relieved by his sweet tranquillity. I raised my hand to shake his, still trembling. He felt it, as he held my hand firmly in his.

I told him my name. He just smiled.

There was a hoarding on part of the street and sidewalk, with tall wooden boards, so we had to walk around it. On one of the larger vertical boards there was a stencilled graffiti depicting a fox. The graffiti was very well done and I really liked it.

- This is so beautiful. I love foxes.

- Foxes are scary.

- They are not.

He looked at me and smirked.

- Coffee, right?

- Sure!

***

The Cafe was busy, as most of the times we went there. The waiter smiled when we got in. We had a favourite table by the window and he knew our preference. There was a reserved sign on top of the white linen cloth. We were celebrating. He knew that.

We sat down and the waiter left us alone for a while, to choose our favourite items from the familiar Menu. 

- This is still so amazing. Here we are again in the fanciest Café in town… like the first time…

He smiled. His face was now covered with a thick ginger beard, which made him look even more handsome than before. I was so evidently charmed, I could not stop looking at him.

- How can you still be so charming after all these years?

- Oh. It’s a natural thing on me being a charming and sexy ginger, after all.

- Says who?

- Says I… and you too…

He laughed out loud, as he did that first time, when I told him, while drinking from the small cup of coffee, how sexy I thought ginger men were and how attracted to him I was from the first moment.

- You were so daring and so deliciously crazy. I was really shocked by that statement. I had always been bullied for being a ginger and I really hated being one. But then you come into my life and celebrate that fact as if I were a special gift sent from Heaven.

- My sweet ginger dream man, you are special.

He smiled and changed subject. He hated the demonstration of affection in public as he loathed that mellow conversation.

- Can I have two slices of toast with butter, please? And a macchiato.

The waiter was smiling. He had heard part of the conversation and probably thought it was funny.

- Same for me, please.

When the waiter left, I asked:

- Are we getting fancy?

- With bread and butter? I don’t think so!

We both laughed.

***

 “She thinks life is water
And love, love is a river” *(It’s only Mystery – Eric Serra)

- Close your eyes. Accept that you’re loved.

His hands were warm and his soft touch on my eyelids made me utterly believe how loved I really was. He kissed my front and my closed eyes. I smiled lightly. He kissed my lips, very softly and slowly.

- I hate to see you crying.

- I try not to. You’re so sweet, lover of mine.

He laid on top of me, his legs around mine and his arms and hands around my head with his body heating mine up. He just kissed me over and over again, silently, carefully, affectionately. I surrendered completely to him and to his loving touch… and not only. He took advantage of that… for as long as he could, for as long as I could stand without exploding in a wave of warm pleasure…

***

- You know we are together for such a long time.

- Amazing, isn’t it?

- It is indeed.

- I hope you’re not regretting anything.

- I’m not. Ever. I promise.

- Then, what?

- I think we should do something different. We must celebrate. It’s been such a long time and we deserve this.

- Celebrate? We don’t need to.

- But we must. Who cares if we don’t need to? We can, so we must!

He smiled.

- And you probably know already how.

- Well, I have a suggestion.

- Which is?

- A romantic long weekend in Vienna, perhaps.

- Oh. Are we getting fancy, after all?

- Think about it. No gifts, no worries… just a free weekend, away from everything but fun… and cultural beauty… and us, of course…

He smiled again. I loved when he did: that meant acceptance and that would be a great time away from our normal lives and daily affairs and chores.

***

The city was still waking up when we got to the station and walked into the Café to have something to eat and drink a hot cappuccino. We loved walking the streets early in the morning. It was fresh, like all autumn mornings could be. The leaves were turning into a colourful explosion of every tonality of red, yellow, orange and brown; a feast to the eyes of every soul enchanted with beauty.

Those colours had everything to do with him, his skin and his hair. I’ve never realised I loved the autumnal colours for that reason. I was looking outside and smiling to myself when he giggled.

- What are you thinking about? You’re smiling…

- I’m just happy we are here.

In a short while after that, doors were opening and closing one after the other in a frenzy rhythm that announced the place was alive again and totally ready for one more working day.

We were all set for exploring the city, walking its streets and visiting its autumnal fallen leaves covered parks and boardwalks. I was happy… I was really happy to be there. But most of all I was happy because I was there with him.

He was looking at me. No, he was staring at me… seriously. His face was suddenly grave, his eyes a little different from his normal. He noticed I thought something was happening by his silence. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.

- What is it?

- We need to talk…

***