domingo, 19 de julho de 2020

Time Traveller. Part 2. Oblivion.


The three men were in silence, for a moment. There was not much else to say. The one wearing glasses was holding his head in his both hands, shaking it slightly, trying to process what he had just heard.

- How could that be possible? Why did they do that? I wonder if such a complicated trip to the future and with that purpose had helped anyone, anywhere, anytime, anyway…

- I guess we will never know.

- Well, then how would we know I really did get there and reached the intent?

-You would have never gotten back here if you hadn’t.

- Then…?

- Oblivion was rarely used in time travelling. It was efficient when they wanted to send the voyagers back to when and where they came from. Sometimes also to prevent being revisited. You travelled to help them and all mankind in the future. Those must not be the reasons they used it in you.  I wonder what the real intention was…

That was not the only concern in the pale skinned man’s mind, however. Something else seemed to be out of place. He thought the parts they acknowledged about that whole story did not fit well, somehow, but he did not want to express his apprehensions out loud still. He had some doubts, but an idea was building up in his distressed mind. He had decided he needed to think a little longer about it.

The young man had had trouble enough for the moment and maybe he would need time to process some things before anything else could be planned or done.

He tried to avoid his friends’ stares, when he walked off for a while and stayed out in the porch, gazing at a point that could not really be seen in the distance.

His mind was elsewhere, in another place and another time… His thoughts were hastily overflowing and urging for action. He needed to do something.

The pale man sat by the computer and typed some words. The result of the search made him divert quickly to a string of pages, until he thought he found what he was looking for.

He closed the laptop, straightened up and muttered to himself:

- I think it’s more than time to go and see this whole thing by myself…

He walked back to the living room.

- Guys, we need to do something... but first we need to stop at the beach, on our way down to the city.

- At the beach?

He acceded with a faint smile.

- Yes. At the beach…

***

They drove along the beach road to where the mills were standing. The car was parked not too far from their destination. The wooden walkway was quite filled with passers-by. For all that mattered, they were a bunch of beach-goers, walking erratically by the seashore, taking pictures of everything around.

- There they are. And what do we do now?

- There are too many people around. We will need to be careful.

- For all that matters, we are just looking for geocaches…

- Is that the official version?

- Yes. That’s the official one, but I don’t think anyone is interested in what we are doing here, anyway.

They pretended to be taking pictures of every feature of the peculiar rock and shale constructed buildings. There were five of them along a line by the wooden built pathway, facing the sea. Each one was photographed in detail to be scrutinized later. If the pale man was right in his suspicions, they would need to come back to the beach in the evening, for a closer check.

The night came down very slowly. They were sitting out in the terrace, facing the sea and drinking cold beer, almost in complete silence. The place was not busy. They had been analysing the pictures taken and some needed to be zoomed up to show details of what they thought would be useful later.

The pale skinned man was correct in his qualms. There was something there... definitely…

***

The night was fresher and quieter. Three silhouettes moved silently along the wooden pathway. The men knew what they were looking for, but they needed to be careful. The mills were not public property. The owners could have cameras installed around the area, which would be a nuisance.

When they reached the mills, they looked around to certify they were alone, before getting into their target. They jumped over the roped rail, so to examine the first building.

The man wearing glasses suddenly got stiff.

- Do you hear that?

- What?

- Shhh! Listen!

Someone was running on the wooden pathway.

- Quick, let’s hide.

They hasted to the shadow of the round building, hoping they had not been seen by the runner who was getting closer to where they were. Their hearts were pounding hard. They could hear him (or her) coming closer and closer.

A jogger wearing a dark hoodie slowed down and stopped right in front of the mill. Looking around as if checking if there were no one else around, the figure stepped into the private property and disappeared from their sight. They heard a noise. It seemed the door was being forced.

The man wearing glasses whispered.

- Who the hell is that? How come he is here?

- Quiet!

The door seemed to have been opened. It kind of complained in its ungreased hinges, with a distinctive sound.

- He is in! What is he looking for in there?

- Let’s get out of here, before someone shows up. This is getting too dangerous!

- Wait!

The loud sound of an alarm setting off was coming from inside the house. They heard someone hurrying down the stairs and suddenly the hooded figure sprinted past them, jumped over the roped rail and disappeared in the darkness, away from them and from the light.

Not long afterwards a police car, flashing its red and blue lights, raced up the cobblestone street, followed by a white van with red lettering on the side. The two cars stopped by the mill. They heard the noise of people shouting and running closer…

- What the fuck? Did you see that? I can’t believe this!

- What are these guys doing here? What are they up to?

- This is not good news! Let’s get out of here before it’s too late.

- No. Wait! That man did not have time enough to search for things while he was in there. I wonder what he was looking for upstairs. Maybe this is our chance to get in the mill, without trespassing…

- What do you mean? Are you crazy? We cannot go in there. These guys are dangerous and they might know us!

- I’ve just had an idea. We’ll turn around the mill and pretend we are just nosy passers-by trying to find out what’s going on here. We better split!

- This is crazy, man!

- Don’t think much. Just go. Now!

People were coming from different directions. A police event was something the quiet village was not used to, so it was quite a commotion.

They walked around, separated from each other, trying to avoid being seen together.

When the man wearing glasses was approaching the door, he felt like someone pulled him back.

- Hey!

He turned around. A policeman was holding his arm. He stiffened when he realized there was another man, he was sure he had seen before, standing by the officer.

***


domingo, 12 de julho de 2020

Viajante do Tempo. Parte 1. O Farol.



- Sabe, às vezes eu sinto que não pertenço a este lugar e a este tempo. E é mais do que apenas algumas vezes.

- E tu és, agora, um viajante do tempo?

Ele fez a pergunta, sorrindo.

- Tu também não te sentes, às vezes, fora do tempo e do lugar?

Ele sorriu de novo, de uma maneira engraçada, como se soubesse mais do que estava dizendo ao amigo.

- Sinto, sim.

- Então me entendes, quando eu digo isso... É tão...

Dessa vez, ele ficou pensativo, como se algo mais sério lhe ocorresse.

- Tu não tens ideia do quanto eu te entendo...

***

- Nós não deveríamos estar aqui. Se alguém nos vê...

- Calado! Ninguém vai-nos ver. Nós estamos seguros. Já passa muito da meia-noite.

- E se a polícia aparecer?

- Seremos rápidos. Eu só quero ter certeza de que está realmente aqui.

- E como nós vamos saber?

- Eu vou saber, acredite em mim...

- Está bem.

- Deveria estar por aqui em algum lugar, mas é tão trivial que ninguém jamais notaria. Ou, se o fizerem, nunca teriam uma ideia do que realmente é. Cá está. Eu sabia!

- Pronto. Já achamos, agora vamos embora daqui! É apenas um ‘geocache’!

- É assim que pode parecer, mas é mais do que isso. Não é uma caixa. Vês? Tenho certeza que é um portal.

- O que nós vamos fazer?

- Nada. Não vamos fazer nada. É mais seguro que fique aqui, do jeito que está.

- Achas que há mais?

- Portais?

- Viajantes?

Ele olhou para o jovem de óculos, em silêncio. Seu rosto estava protegido pela sombra, mas houve uma súbita mudança na sua forma de respirar.

- Vamos sair daqui, agora. Não tarda a amanhecer.

- Espera. Alguém se aproxima. Ouves?

- Rápido! Faz alguns alongamentos. Finge que estamos exercitando.

O som dos passos ficou mais alto. Alguém vinha correndo a caminho do cais e se aproximava de onde eles estavam.

O rapaz de óculos virou-se e descansou a perna no parapeito inferior, esticando-se devagar com as mãos, tentado alcançar os pés, como se estivesse fazendo alongamentos. Seu companheiro segurava um pé com uma das mãos, suportado por uma perna, apenas.

Eles não conseguiam ver se o rosto do corredor recém-chegado, no interior do capuz do casaco de treino escuro, era jovem ou velho, mas pela maneira como ele se movia, podia-se dizer que era um homem atlético. Ele passou pela pista e deu a volta ao redor do farol, voltou ao cais e saiu pelo mesmo caminho que veio, entrando no calçadão. Logo ganhou a rua e desapareceu na escuridão novamente. O som de seus passos foi desaparecendo ao longe.

Os dois homens se entreolharam, aliviados.

- Essa foi por pouco!

- Que nada! Pare de ter tanto medo de tudo. Vamos voltar. Já tivemos mais que o suficiente esta madrugada.

Eles saíram rapidamente para onde o jipe ​​estava estacionado e entraram, não sem antes olharem a volta.

Não viram o homem vestindo um casaco de treino, escuro e com capuz, parado do outro lado da área do estacionamento, protegido da vista, pela penumbra.

Assim que o carro saiu, ele atravessou o parque e voltou a se aproximar do farol, correndo...

***

Os dois chegaram em casa em alguns minutos, já que não havia tráfego àquela hora da manhã. Ainda tinham algumas coisas para discutir.

- Que porra era aquela? Era mesmo um portal? A sério? Eu pensei que havíamos ido procurar um ‘geocache’…

- Tu sabes muito bem que era um portal e não um ‘cache’. Tu viste os detalhes…

O homem de óculos estava totalmente confuso, pois sabia que aquelas coisas eram difíceis de entender e acreditar.

Seu amigo parecia mais à vontade com a existência de um portal, embora desde que eles haviam deixado o farol, parecia bastante distraído, como se estivesse em outro mundo… ou época.

- Tu achas que nós deveríamos...?

- Eu acho.

- Quando?

- Quanto mais cedo melhor. Vamos arrumar algumas coisas nas mochilas. Talvez não voltemos hoje.

***

O sol mal acabava de nascer e eles já estavam na estrada para o norte. A A28 estava silenciosa, mas logo estaria movimentada, devido ao tráfego para as zonas industriais e às pessoas que iam para as praias.

- Um portal? Não é possível! Mas aquele último foi totalmente destruído!

- Eu sei. Mas tudo aponta para um novo e nós o localizamos. Está lá, tão à vista quanto um ‘geocache’ normal… mas com detalhes muito característicos.

- Como isso pode ser possível? A menos que... Espera!... Não, não, não... Isso é improvável...

- O quê? Espera aí! Tu estás sugerindo que eles voltaram para cá?

- Do que vocês dois estão falando? Isto não faz nenhum sentido.

- Mas por que aqui e por que agora? O que há aqui, nesta era, que poderia ser de algum interesse para eles?

- Eu não faço ideia. Se tivéssemos alguma indicação do que aconteceu, quando...

Eles olharam para o homem de óculos.

- ‘Oblívio’, o ‘Esquecimento’...

- OK! Vamos parar aqui e agora. Quero saber tudo sobre este incidente com ‘Oblívio’... Passou-se bastante tempo. Já está mais que na hora de falarmos sobre isso. E não me tentem enganar mais, por favor!

Os dois homens olharam para aquele que usava óculos. Ele estava lívido.

- OK. É melhor sentar. Vou-te trazer um pouco de água. Relaxe um pouco, sim?

- Eu não quero e nem vou relaxar. Tudo isso parece estar relacionado. Digam-me já o que aconteceu... Quero saber agora!

- Ok, mas agora, sente-se, por favor. Beba a água. Eu vou explicar... Ou, pelo menos, vou tentar esclarecer-te esta história, de uma vez por todas.

***



domingo, 5 de julho de 2020

Time Traveller. Part 1. The Lighthouse.


- You know, sometimes I just feel I don’t belong in here. And it’s more than just some times.

- Are you a time traveller?

He was smiling when he asked.

- Don’t you feel sometimes you’re out of time and out of place?

He smiled again, in his funny way, as if knowing more than what he was telling his friend.

- I do.

- Then you know how I feel… It’s just so…

This time he was thoughtful as if something more serious came to his mind.

- You have no idea how much I understand…

***
- We shouldn’t be here. If someone sees us…

- Shush! Nobody will. We are safe. It’s long past midnight.

- What if the police shows up?

- We will be quick. I just want to make sure it’s really here. 

- How would we know?

- I will know, believe me…

- OK.

- It should be around here somewhere, but it is so trivial, no one would ever notice it. Or if they do, they would never have an idea of what it really is. There it is. I knew it!

- It’s just a cache!

- That is what it could look like, but it’s more than that. It’s not a box. See?

- What are we going to do?

- Nothing. It’s safer if it is kept here, the way it is.

- Do you think there are more?

- Portals?

- Travellers?

He looked at the young man wearing glasses, in silence. His face was in darkness, but his breathing could be heard from a distance. And it had changed a bit.

- Let’s get out of here now. It will be morning soon.

- I hear footsteps.

- Quick! Do some stretching. Pretend we are exercising.

The sound of the steps became louder. Someone was running on the pathway to the jetty and getting closer to where they were.

The man wearing glasses turned around and stretched his leg on the lower rail, going slowly with his hands to his feet, as if stretching arms, back and legs. His mate was holding his foot with his hands, standing in one leg only.

They could not really see inside the dark hooded sweatshirt, if the newcomer was young or old, but by the way he moved, they could say the runner was a young strong man. He passed along the lane and ran around the lighthouse, coming back to the jetty and out of the pathway, into the street boardwalk and disappeared in the darkness again. The sound of his running steps faded in the distance.

The two men looked at each other in relief.

- That was close.

- It was not. Stop being so scared of everything. Let’s go back. We’ve had enough.

They left quickly to where the Jeep was parked, by the walkway and got into it, not before looking around.

They did not see the man wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt standing on the other side of the parking lot, hiding in the dark.

As soon as the car left, he crossed the parking area and went back to the jetty, running…

***
They got home in some minutes, as there was no traffic at that time in the morning. They still had some things to discuss.

- What the fuck was that? A portal?

- Yes. You know very well.

The man wearing glasses was feeling totally confused, as he knew those things were hard to understand and to believe in.

His friend seemed to be more comfortable with the existence of a portal, although since they had left the lighthouse earlier on, he seemed to be very absent-minded, as if he was in another world or era.

- Do you think we should…?

- I guess so.

- When?

- The sooner the best. Pack some things. We might not be back today.

***

When the sun was still rising, they were already on the road to the north. The A28 motorway was quiet, but soon it would be busy, either because of the traffic to the industrial areas or the people going to the beaches.

- A portal? It’s not possible! We had the last one completely destroyed!

- I know. But everything points to a new one and we had it located.

- How can that be possible? Unless… wait… no, no, no… That is unlikely…

- What? Wait a minute. Are you implying that they’ve come back here?

- What are you two talking about? You make no sense at all.

- But why here and why now? What’s in here now that could possibly be of some interest for them?

- I have no idea. If we had any indication of what happened when…

They looked at the man wearing glasses.

- Oblivion…

- Ok. Stop right here and now. I want to know everything about the Oblivion incident… It’s more than time. Don’t try to fool me any further, please!

The two men looked at the one wearing glasses. He was pale.

- OK. Sit down now. I’ll bring you some water. Relax a bit, will you?

- I don’t want to relax. This all seem to be related. Tell me what happened… Now!

- OK, but sit down, please. Drink the water. I’ll explain… or I will try to, anyway…

***


domingo, 28 de junho de 2020

Watercolor Study (Portrait) - Estudo em Aguarela (Retrato)


O Menino no Sótão


Embora ainda fosse dia, havia apenas uma fraca luz vindo de um ponto no sótão, como percebi, de pé, junto à base da escada. Eu nunca havia tido autorização para subir aqueles degraus e ir lá em cima… nem acompanhado, muito menos por conta própria...

Agora, já não precisava mais da permissão de ninguém. Eu tinha que encarar aquela situação e queria fazê-lo… o quanto antes…

A escada, de dois lances, era de madeira escura e sem qualquer polimento. Os velhos degraus, tão pouco utilizados nos últimos tempos, rangeram, como se a reclamar, quando pisei neles. Murmurei, para mim mesmo:

- Não olhe para trás...

O sótão não estava tão desorganizado quanto eu pensei que estaria. Estava empoeirado, mas não sujo. Eu mal notei que havia uma pequena janela quadrada, voltada para o sul. A luz do final da tarde filtrava-se através do vidro empoeirado. Algumas caixas e um velho triciclo de metal, quebrado, com um assento de madeira gasto e manchado, estavam no meio do caminho. Vi uma cadeira de balanço junto à parede oposta à janela. Alguns móveis velhos estavam empilhados num canto mal iluminado. Em cima deles havia uma caixa de madeira marrom-escura com enfeites de pinos de metal, de cabeças arredondadas, dispostos ao longo da periferia da tampa.

Quando eu olhei, ele estava sentado no chão, no outro extremo, brincando com alguns minúsculos carros de brinquedo, quase no escuro. A maioria daqueles carrinhos já não tinha mais rodas. Ele estava com os pés descalços, vestindo um velho pijama de algodão estampado. Não olhou diretamente para mim, no início, como se não tivesse notado minha presença. Seu cabelo encaracolado era castanho claro, quase loiro, cortado bem curto. A boca, bem proporcionada, de um tom carmesim, mostrava dois pequenos pontos vermelhos, mais escuros, claramente evidentes, no centro do lábio inferior. Aqueles olhos castanho-esverdeados, muito curiosos e um tanto tristes, me notaram, finalmente.

Ele sorriu, timidamente, quando cheguei mais perto.

- Estás bem?

Ele balançou a cabeça, afirmativamente.

- Posso sentar aí, ao teu lado?

- Pode, mas vais sujar as roupas.

- Não tem importância.

- OK, então. É uma pena. Meus carrinhos estão todos quebrados.

Sentei-me ao lado dele e examinei um daqueles brinquedos que estavam no chão. Senti vontade de chorar e ele percebeu, mas me recuperei rápido o suficiente.

- Quantos anos tu tens?

- Cinco.

- O que estás fazendo aqui em cima, sozinho?

- Gosto de brincar sozinho e, além disso, estava esperando por ti. Podes brincar um pouquinho comigo?

- Sim. Pelo tempo que quiseres.

Ele abriu um sorriso largo e satisfeito, mostrando seus pequenos dentes, bem feitinhos. Pareceu-me ser um miúdo ‘duro na queda’.

- Tu gostas da cadeira de balanço?

- Sim, mas toma cuidado. Está quebrada. Vai desmontar-se toda.

Eu verifiquei e notei que as peças não estavam bem encaixadas, nos lugares certos. Devia ter sido abandonada e esquecida ali em cima. Tentei o meu melhor para reparar e, finalmente, sentei-me nela. O encosto e o assento, de palha trançada, fizeram um ruído característico, provavelmente devido à falta de uso. Ainda era uma cadeira bem forte, pelo que percebi.

- Queres sentar aqui comigo?

Ele veio mais para perto e eu o levantei do chão e sentei-o na minha perna esquerda. Ele sorriu e deitou a cabeça no meu peito, ainda entretido com um de seus carrinhos de brinquedo.

O som monótono e suave da velha cadeira, a balançar, e meus braços em torno de seu minúsculo corpo, eram como um convite para adormecer. Ele fechou os olhos. Eu podia sentir que ele relaxava e deixou o brinquedo cair da sua mãozinha, no meu colo. Parecia estar confortável e sentindo-se protegido e amado. Eu o abracei mais firmemente e beijei suavemente o topo de sua cabeça.

Meus olhos encheram-se de lágrimas. Meu coração estava transbordando.

Levantei-me em silêncio e desci, cuidadosamente, com ele nos braços e deitei-o em uma cama de solteiro, de colchão duro de palha, que havia no quarto abaixo da escada. Sentei-me na beirada de madeira escura, tentando não perturbar seu sono tranquilo. Seu rosto estava muito sereno. Acariciei seu cabelo fino e macio. Ele respirou fundo, descontraído, quase sorrindo, como se estivesse tendo um sonho bom.

Levantei-me e saí do quarto, deixando o menino em sua cama. Votei-me e olhei para ele, da porta.

Ele, agora, sorria. Seu sorriso era espontâneo e tranquilo, naquele rostinho inocente, em seu sonho feliz... Ele era, na verdade, um menino bem bonito. Deduzi que seria um belo homem, no futuro.

Respirei fundo e abri os olhos. Aquela minha jornada, ao passado, acabava ali. Senti uma satisfação enorme por haver conseguido fazê-la, daquele jeito.

***

quarta-feira, 24 de junho de 2020

The Boy in the Attic



Although it was still day, there was only a faint light coming from a point in the attic and seen from the base of the staircase. I had not been allowed to climb those steps up there ever before.
I did not need permission anymore, from anyone, anyway. I had to face it and I wanted to do it.
The two flight of stairs were dark and unpolished. The old unused wooden treads and risers creaked when I stepped on them. I mumbled.
- Don’t look back...
The attic was not as messy as I thought it would be. It was dusty, but not dirty. I hardly noticed there was a small square window, facing the south. Light was being filtered through its dusty glass. Some boxes and an old broken metal tricycle with a stained wooden seat were on the way. I saw a rocking chair by the wall opposite to the window. Old furniture were piled up at the poorly lightened corner end. On top of them there was a dark brown wooden box with metal pin decorations all around its lid.
He was sitting there on the floor, at the far end, playing with some tiny toy cars, almost in the dark. Most of those small cars had no wheels anymore. He was barefoot, wearing old homemade stamped cotton pyjamas. He did not look directly at me at first, as if he did not notice me at all. His curly hair was light brown, almost blond, cut very short. The lips were cherry red and the two little dark red spots on the lower lip were clearly evident. Those very curious sad-looking hazel eyes noticed me finally.
He smiled shyly when I walked closer.
- Are you ok?
He nodded affirmatively.
- Can I sit there by your side?
- You’re gonna dirt your clothes.
- I don’t care.
- Ok, then. It’s a shame. My cars are all broken.
I sat by his side and took one of those toys in my hand. I felt like crying and he noticed it, but I recovered quickly enough.
- How old are you?
- Five.
- What are you doing here on your own?
- I like playing alone and besides I was waiting for you. Will you play with me? For a while? 
- Yes. For as long as you want me to.
He opened a broad satisfied grin, showing his small well-built teeth. He looked like a tough little one.
- Do you like the rocking chair?
- Yes, but… you must be careful. It is broken. It might fall apart.
I checked it and noticed the parts were not well fixed in their right places, so I tried my best to repair and finally sat in it. The woven straw chair cringed a bit. It was still a good strong chair.
- Would you like to come here with me?
He walked up to me and I picked him up and let him sit on my left leg. He smiled and lay his head on my chest, still playing with one of his toy cars.
The slow, soft rocking sound of the old chair and my arms around his tiny body were like an invitation to fall asleep. He closed his eyes. I could feel he relaxed and his toy fell down from his hand to my lap. He seemed to be feeling comfortable and loved. I hugged him tighter and softly kissed the top of his head.
My eyes were wet. My heart was overflowing.
I quietly got up and went downstairs with him in my arms and carefully placed him in a single bed with a hard mattress there was in the room below the stairs. I sat on the dark wooden edge, trying not to disturb his peaceful sleep. His face was very serene. I stroked his soft thin hair. He took a deeper relaxed breath, almost smiling, as if contented with a dream he was having.
I got up and walked off the room, leaving the boy in his bed. I looked back at him from the door.
He was still smiling and his grin was spontaneous in his sweet happy dream… He was quite a good-looking little one. He would be a handsome man in the future.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. My journey to the past was over… I was happy I made it.
***


domingo, 21 de junho de 2020