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" OLGA " 

(Story) 

Ivan Matvichuc

 

       S

eated in the edge of the bed, he observed pensively the twilight of the room  being trespassed by the insidious rays of the spring sun, crossing the openings of a window badly closed and making advances in the darkener corners of the small hospital room.  Gold remainders of light illuminated a woman's made thin face, framed by the shades of the death, immobile lips as the fire of a candle that faded and God took her for the eternal of the eternal ones. 

                    He was sad and longing of that woman that so sudden she had left this world, on such beautiful day, where the birds insisted on singing, praising the last sunbeams, in the twilight of the afternoon that died. He tried to convince, that it had gone better to her, that would not suffer more in that world of griefs, because she would never conform to, in your vanity of beautiful and elegant woman, of living for the half, as deficient physical, thwarting your strong will of living, always with a smile leveling the lips, still plus, that she had pride of your beautiful legs, parading at the catwalks of the fashion in São Paulo City  and like this suddenly, they amputated one of them (leg) consequence of a gangrene badly cured, that was also threatening to take the other.  

                 Would punishment of God have been, for she being so vain, and to feel eternally beautiful and indestructible?  Or would it be for the fact of having made many men to suffer for her cause, in the attempt of conquering her Love? It was difficult to answer, but on that moment, seated beside her inert body, he remembered of the moments of complicity, of the happiest of his existence, of a expansive joviality, of who was of well with the life.  Her enthusiastic and not contraction person  had always provoked jealousies in her husband, Alexandre.  

                 They fought a lot. The marriage, out very criticized by his family, because they  didn't conform to in seeing him married with a widow, although young, but already with a son of a year of life. Him, however, in love,  didn't give ears to the paternal appeals and he got married, thwarting all the expectations of the one that wanted see him married with a single and not under obligation girl.  They are reasons of the heart that the own heart ignores. 

                 But Olga, had a terrible secret, closed to the seven keys in your heart, secret that for better kept that it was, a beautiful day would end if revealing.  And, exactly this revelation  happened was, in that beautiful one late, almost night, in an of those parades of release of the fashion Summer. 

                 A youth gentleman, very elegant, suit of English cashmere of color sober, seated close of the catwalk, observed the parade sincerely.  Olga entered and she began your walk. The man when looking her, he  had a fright, the to the point of to be agitated , with the heart in a stranger arrhythmia. 

- " My God!  It is her! ...  

          Some doubt there was been, she soon vanished because her fright, the indecision that started to mark her to walk and the abrupt gesture from who escapes of an accusing glance. Everything indicated to be her. Her same in meat and bone. Finished the parade, he followed her and before he could reach her, she was turned and  went to your encounter, imploring:  

- " For God's sake, Francisco.  Don't raise scandal!                 

- " You have a lot of thing to explain to me, Olga. 

           Really, they were suffered years of searches, seeking her in all the ways of the life. Inexplicable facts in search of answers. The beginning of the courtship, the fast marriage dispensing  the engagement. And his family, of German immigrants enriched by the Cycle of the Coffee, that didn't look upon with favor that relationship loving, so unequal: Francisco, heir of a chain of supermarkets in Curitiba, Olga a youth poor adolescent, only 14 years old.  It had everything for not giving right and it didn't give. 

            The marriage lasted the time of the honeymoon exactly. The magic was broken, the following morning, with the youth's inexplicable escape of  the wife. And now, there in a snack bar, Olga tried to justify the unjustifiable. She said that had acted like this to obtain your majority. She had won an amateur contest of freshmen (singers) in the Radio Nacional and as her parents didn't approve it,  she left for the marriage and the signature of your first contract, as profissional singer. Of there it was easy to lead for other artistic ways, mainly of the fashion. 

            In spite of it being used as " innocent useful, Francisco forgave her, therefore he loved her a lot and he thought that she would go back to your arms, but new deception when she revealed that she had married with João, a youth evangelical musician, in São Paulo, beginning a new life, her in the coral, him in the mandolin.  Francisco heard everything with the humiliated  soul.  Olga continued the unhappy narration saying that João had died, leaving her widow-bigamous. However, she had not been alone for a long time, she had left for a new marriage and now Olga lived happy, because she loved Alexandre a lot, her actual husband. 

                  Unhappy and felt himself, relegated to the forgetfulness, Francisco left forever of the life of Olga, that later she had the news of his death, victim of car accident.   Alexandre, the last spouse, lived the rest of your years "embittering" eternal distrusts.  

                 The thoughts returned to the old hospital room. He continued observing the face of the died.  He walked until the window to aspirate the air of the night, involved in the breeze perfumed by the flowers. Several persons entered in the room to take the cadaver. Him, in a last one to look, he said good-bye:       

  -     " That God forgives me some censorship. I just rendered a homage to a woman

          that  lived  the  life  so  intensely:  Olga, my mother..."  

   

(Published in the Collection of Poetry & Prose–" Letters in Brazil " 2001 Publishing  Taba Cultural -  Rio de Janeiro – Pages 124 to 126).  




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