IT WAS FUN
We came to live in a big city after having already done so many other things. Not me, of course, I was only five when we moved, but my family was already a big family. Six children in all plus an adopted one who became my companion for everything. My oldest sister was left behind, she was married then. My father worked for the Leopoldina Railway, the British railway system that operated in many towns in Brazil. He had been sent to so many different small towns where my mother had to face difficulties of all kinds, with babies coming to life and terrible diseases that they didn´t know how to deal with.
Rio de Janeiro was a second beginning for the whole family. Surviving was of course a problem but my mother´s energy and my father´s discipline made that problem a lesson for all of us. We went to live in a big place that was very common those days and my mother kept busy renting rooms for people who came from other cities, like us. They were young men who came to go to college, to try to find a better job or something else. I grew up among those people, learning from them and from their own experiences. I didn´t know they were not my family, I just saw them as the world I had for me. All of them influenced my decisions, my hair style and my activities in general. They helped me to learn the first things and they also confided me their genuine anguish. Some are more vivid in my memory, probably because they were timid and unprepared. I watched and listened. I had all the time for that, being a child.
I had never heard the word “privacy” before being an adult. I wouldn´t have understood it. Our living room was like a stage where characters come and go after saying their lines. Nothing was so terrible that couldn´t be forgotten a few minutes later : laughter followed tears and commotion for someone, in a succession of events.
We had fun, I can remember that. We all grew up and made our own families. Was it good or bad to live like this? I don´t know. I just think it was fun.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
MEMORIES
MEMORIES, WHY NOT?
I heard that song and many things came to my mind. I thought of you. In fact, I could see you exactly the way you were, your habit of reading the newspaper in bed, delaying the moment for having breakfast; your afternoon walk, your way of telling stories as if they were new to me. It´s unbelievable how well I can remember your voice, your smell and your words. I myself wasn´t aware of having retained so many impressions of a single person.
I miss the way I loved you. I miss my capacity to devote my thoughts to a man in such passionate way. I miss the weeping moments before falling asleep. I miss my insecurity for the possibility of being pregnant of a baby of ours. I miss being so bold as to send you flowers after a quarrel. I miss my sensations when we kissed. I miss my feeling of protection when sleeping with you and I also miss my heartache during the days you didn´t call.
I don´t miss you, honestly. I miss my innocence, my faith in love …
I heard that song and many things came to my mind. I thought of you. In fact, I could see you exactly the way you were, your habit of reading the newspaper in bed, delaying the moment for having breakfast; your afternoon walk, your way of telling stories as if they were new to me. It´s unbelievable how well I can remember your voice, your smell and your words. I myself wasn´t aware of having retained so many impressions of a single person.
I miss the way I loved you. I miss my capacity to devote my thoughts to a man in such passionate way. I miss the weeping moments before falling asleep. I miss my insecurity for the possibility of being pregnant of a baby of ours. I miss being so bold as to send you flowers after a quarrel. I miss my sensations when we kissed. I miss my feeling of protection when sleeping with you and I also miss my heartache during the days you didn´t call.
I don´t miss you, honestly. I miss my innocence, my faith in love …
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
LIKE AN ANGEL
LIKE AN ANGEL
She was born in Rio. It was after all that mess, mom and dad fighting and finally, oh finally getting a divorce, that she moved to Sao Paulo. She liked Sao Paulo, maybe because she could have peace and an organized life. Those last few years had been a hard time, her father absent from home and her mother making their place a living hell. She couldn´t understand why things had to be like that, her mother sobbing or screaming, taking sleeping pills or speaking on the phone. Never a quiet routine with calm breakfasts and TV programes.
The first years in S. Paulo were nice. She was very busy at school, she made new friends, attended an English course and had lots of things to do to keep up with the new environment. She could even see more of her father – he now came for weekends or holidays to meet her and they talked on the phone almost everyday. She got to know him better this way and when she was seventeen he gave her a present that made her delirious : he gave her an apartment so that she could live alone. He knew she wanted it, so why not make her happy, now that she was starting university? She was making him happy, too. The thought of his child entering university had made him so proud that he wanted her closer to him on the weekends. He felt like having more of this responsible young girl, so pretty and happy. He knew that she loved Copacabana, where she grew up. And that he could buy her a small apartment there, just for the weekends. He also bought her some furniture for the small place and then left her alone with her happiness.
At first she couldn´t believe she was back to Copacabana for the weekends, for the sea that she loved so much and for the easygoing way of spending the hours. The evenings were nice, too, but it was in the morning that she could realize the greatness of being there. Walking along the beach, the heat of the sun on her shoulders, hearing laughter from people passing by, she enjoyed every minute of looking at people, those wonderful people in their bathing suits, so tanned and healthy.
Then she saw him. She saw the tanned skin, the slim figure of a young man in his early twenties. He had blond hair, in contrast with his dark skin. (Was his hair dyed?, she thought when she first looked at him) He had funny curly hair, which gave him the air of an angel. An angel here, coming from the sea, in the hot sun of Copacabana? The thought of his being an angel amused her and they immediately started a conversation. “My name, your name, where do you live”, he didn´t say much about himself except for the comments about playing soccer on the beach; he said he loved playing soccer, that when he was a kid he wanted to be a soccer player.He spoke like so many other people of his age and condition, a broken language with a lot of slang and half bad words that he tried to avoid. She did her best to make him feel at ease – she talked about herself and he seemed to enjoy listening.
“You say you have an apartment here in Copacabana? How come you bought it? You´re no more than a chick! Hey, what …” He laughed with his eyes.
“My dad gave it to me.
“Oh, you have a dad!”
She learned after that that he didn´t have a family or a home. Not even a job – he earned his living looking after cars in a parking lot or doing some other things according to the opportunities. She looked at him and saw the angel face with the blue sky behind it – the white sand and the sea completed the scenery, making the picture unforgettable.
They met several times on the beach before she took him to her apartment, one day. He was good company, in every moment of the day. He helped in the kitchen doing the dishes or even making sandwiches; he knew what to do when something was out of order and, most of all, he cheered her up when she was lazy, not willing to go out . He had energy for both of them, waking up at the right time not to miss the best spot on the beach, or having sex at the moments she thought she was dead tired to do it. Every weekend in Rio was tiring and relaxing, making her ready for the university routine in Sao Paulo. A few times they changed schedules – he came to Sao Paulo by bus and spent the weekend going to the movies and watching TV with her, but she could feel him growing a bit restless.
Her father met him once when he came to see her about something. “What do you think?’ she asked. “Well, if you like him, there isn´t much I can say. Just try to know him well, as not to be disappointed later.” She already did it, most of the time. She looked at her angel with his curly blonde hair and thought of how hard his life must have been so far. She tried to imagine him, as a child, living in the slum, not having a mother or a father to take care of him. Not having decent food to eat, either. Later, living on the streets, all by himself, asking for money or doing God knows what to be able to buy food and find shelter to sleep the nights.The beach, however, was the perfect frame for his figure now – he was happy, he looked happy, so tanned and beautiful, so quick with his legs running after the ball, his smile always ready for a joke.
Sometimes he stayed in her apartment for a few days, after she had left for S. Paulo. And one day he said he wanted to live there, to stay there everyday while she was out. Why not? The apartment would be vacant and he didn´t have a place, she knew that. Yes, she knew that, and she felt uncomfortable when she had to say yes. Something was beginning to deteriorate in their relationship, and she couldn´t understand. They went to the beach everyday on their weekends, they laughed and had sex, but somehow things were different. He was comfortable, too comfortable and bossy, he sounded like a different person, not like the one she had met. She then spent the whole week at the university thinking of the last events. She had been happy for seven months, she liked him in spite of his poverty, (she had to pay for everything) she knew he was a nice person, but she was not happy anymore. She would have to change a few things; maybe she should have her privacy back – she decided to talk to him, he would understand and it would be better for both of them. They could be together most of the time, but not all the time, and she could have her Copacabana apartment for herself, being able to take other girl friends or something like that.
They were in the small kitchen of the Copacabana apartment when she explained to him what she wanted. She said she loved him, she didn´t want to part from him, they could have a future together if they preserved what they already had. She said she felt sorry for being so much used to living alone, but she loved him . She saw his angel face coming closer to her and she tried to read his eyes but she couldn´t … She felt a bit dizzy, the angel was now standing before her and she was so small, she could only see his legs. She tried to hold his leg but her arms wouldn´t obey her. She felt her head on the floor and the last thing she could see was the blooded knife in his hand …
She was born in Rio. It was after all that mess, mom and dad fighting and finally, oh finally getting a divorce, that she moved to Sao Paulo. She liked Sao Paulo, maybe because she could have peace and an organized life. Those last few years had been a hard time, her father absent from home and her mother making their place a living hell. She couldn´t understand why things had to be like that, her mother sobbing or screaming, taking sleeping pills or speaking on the phone. Never a quiet routine with calm breakfasts and TV programes.
The first years in S. Paulo were nice. She was very busy at school, she made new friends, attended an English course and had lots of things to do to keep up with the new environment. She could even see more of her father – he now came for weekends or holidays to meet her and they talked on the phone almost everyday. She got to know him better this way and when she was seventeen he gave her a present that made her delirious : he gave her an apartment so that she could live alone. He knew she wanted it, so why not make her happy, now that she was starting university? She was making him happy, too. The thought of his child entering university had made him so proud that he wanted her closer to him on the weekends. He felt like having more of this responsible young girl, so pretty and happy. He knew that she loved Copacabana, where she grew up. And that he could buy her a small apartment there, just for the weekends. He also bought her some furniture for the small place and then left her alone with her happiness.
At first she couldn´t believe she was back to Copacabana for the weekends, for the sea that she loved so much and for the easygoing way of spending the hours. The evenings were nice, too, but it was in the morning that she could realize the greatness of being there. Walking along the beach, the heat of the sun on her shoulders, hearing laughter from people passing by, she enjoyed every minute of looking at people, those wonderful people in their bathing suits, so tanned and healthy.
Then she saw him. She saw the tanned skin, the slim figure of a young man in his early twenties. He had blond hair, in contrast with his dark skin. (Was his hair dyed?, she thought when she first looked at him) He had funny curly hair, which gave him the air of an angel. An angel here, coming from the sea, in the hot sun of Copacabana? The thought of his being an angel amused her and they immediately started a conversation. “My name, your name, where do you live”, he didn´t say much about himself except for the comments about playing soccer on the beach; he said he loved playing soccer, that when he was a kid he wanted to be a soccer player.He spoke like so many other people of his age and condition, a broken language with a lot of slang and half bad words that he tried to avoid. She did her best to make him feel at ease – she talked about herself and he seemed to enjoy listening.
“You say you have an apartment here in Copacabana? How come you bought it? You´re no more than a chick! Hey, what …” He laughed with his eyes.
“My dad gave it to me.
“Oh, you have a dad!”
She learned after that that he didn´t have a family or a home. Not even a job – he earned his living looking after cars in a parking lot or doing some other things according to the opportunities. She looked at him and saw the angel face with the blue sky behind it – the white sand and the sea completed the scenery, making the picture unforgettable.
They met several times on the beach before she took him to her apartment, one day. He was good company, in every moment of the day. He helped in the kitchen doing the dishes or even making sandwiches; he knew what to do when something was out of order and, most of all, he cheered her up when she was lazy, not willing to go out . He had energy for both of them, waking up at the right time not to miss the best spot on the beach, or having sex at the moments she thought she was dead tired to do it. Every weekend in Rio was tiring and relaxing, making her ready for the university routine in Sao Paulo. A few times they changed schedules – he came to Sao Paulo by bus and spent the weekend going to the movies and watching TV with her, but she could feel him growing a bit restless.
Her father met him once when he came to see her about something. “What do you think?’ she asked. “Well, if you like him, there isn´t much I can say. Just try to know him well, as not to be disappointed later.” She already did it, most of the time. She looked at her angel with his curly blonde hair and thought of how hard his life must have been so far. She tried to imagine him, as a child, living in the slum, not having a mother or a father to take care of him. Not having decent food to eat, either. Later, living on the streets, all by himself, asking for money or doing God knows what to be able to buy food and find shelter to sleep the nights.The beach, however, was the perfect frame for his figure now – he was happy, he looked happy, so tanned and beautiful, so quick with his legs running after the ball, his smile always ready for a joke.
Sometimes he stayed in her apartment for a few days, after she had left for S. Paulo. And one day he said he wanted to live there, to stay there everyday while she was out. Why not? The apartment would be vacant and he didn´t have a place, she knew that. Yes, she knew that, and she felt uncomfortable when she had to say yes. Something was beginning to deteriorate in their relationship, and she couldn´t understand. They went to the beach everyday on their weekends, they laughed and had sex, but somehow things were different. He was comfortable, too comfortable and bossy, he sounded like a different person, not like the one she had met. She then spent the whole week at the university thinking of the last events. She had been happy for seven months, she liked him in spite of his poverty, (she had to pay for everything) she knew he was a nice person, but she was not happy anymore. She would have to change a few things; maybe she should have her privacy back – she decided to talk to him, he would understand and it would be better for both of them. They could be together most of the time, but not all the time, and she could have her Copacabana apartment for herself, being able to take other girl friends or something like that.
They were in the small kitchen of the Copacabana apartment when she explained to him what she wanted. She said she loved him, she didn´t want to part from him, they could have a future together if they preserved what they already had. She said she felt sorry for being so much used to living alone, but she loved him . She saw his angel face coming closer to her and she tried to read his eyes but she couldn´t … She felt a bit dizzy, the angel was now standing before her and she was so small, she could only see his legs. She tried to hold his leg but her arms wouldn´t obey her. She felt her head on the floor and the last thing she could see was the blooded knife in his hand …
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)