(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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