Leandro’s mission

It was a day like any other and Leandro was playing in his grandfather’s barber shop, alone. He knew he was not supposed to be there now, he was supposed to be in his bedroom doing his homework. But that was so boring and practicing his karate moves was a lot more interesting. When he was about to get the moves from the movie Karate Kid right for the first time, he heard voices approaching. He could notice it was his mother talking to his grandfather. In a panicky move, he hid in the big cabinet next to the chairs, that was always kept empty for no reason.

  • I know you just want the best for us, but you have to trust I know what I’m doing. He is my son, after all. You have been of great help, dad, but you have no idea what I’ve been through with the boy before we moved in with you.
  • Then tell me what you’ve been through!
  • It’s too complicated.

He could hear the tingling of the shampoo bottles. Hopefully grandad won’t decide to use this cabinet for the first time today!

  • You have to tell him where he is. I know I don’t know how it came to be, and you don’t need to tell me, but you have to tell him. He is your son, he deserves to know!
  • It’s too dark for him to know. It would crush him. You know how he idealises the man even without knowing anything about him. I can’t crush his dreams of one day meeting him.
  • But don’t you think it’s worse for him to have this illusion that’s not based in anything but his own imagination last forever?

They suddenly stopped talking. Was that sound mother crying? What could be so horrible that they did not want to tell Leandro? Who were they talking about?

  • The thing is, dad, I don’t know where the bastard is. I never saw him again.
  • Didn’t you live together?

Marina sighed.

  • Ok, dad, here’s the truth. We never lived together. It was a rape.

There Marina started sobbing and Leandro could not understand why. What was this thing called rape? Why was mother so sad about it? And who the hell were they talking about?

  • Oh my god, my daughter, I am so sorry! I shouldn’t have pushed you to say anything. I had no idea…
  • Do you see now why I can never tell Leandro who his real dad is?

“His real dad”? Of course he should know! Why on earth would mother try to hide such a thing from him? And what was grandpa sorry for? Leandro couldn’t understand any of it, he could only feel the anger arising together with the sadness. He wanted to cry. He wanted to burst out of that cabinet and beg his mother to tell him, to give him the answer to the ultimate question: who was his father after all? But how could he? He was frozen. He didn’t understand why, but he understood that there was a terrible secret his mother was keeping from him, and now his grandfather was in on it. They were both hiding something. The two most important people in his life, keeping secrets from him. What a horrible day that suddenly become.

  • I know it was a horrible thing, and you are so strong, my daughter, for going through this and coming out as such an amazing woman on the other side. But you still need to tell him. Not about the rape, of course, but tell him all the rest. He deserves to know. He can’t keep this monster on a pedestal forever.

A few minutes went by before Marina could say anything. But the answer to the ultimate question was at last revealed:

  • Ok Dad, you’re right. I’ll tell him. Everything. Tonight. He’s been living a lie for 8 years, it’s time he knows. And it was about time you knew as well. So here it is.

Could this be it? Could this be the moment he found out the answer to the ultimate question?

  • It was the man you trusted to take care of me while you were gone. It was godfather João. And after that night, I never saw him again. Now can we please go buy those groceries and leave this be for a day?

As he heard the footsteps moving away, his chock could not be greater. And now Leandro had a target for his mission: to find godfather João.

Anúncios

Saudade

It burns.

It rips the heart out.

Leaves a void.

Saudade.

 

The urge to jump on a plane,

to run for miles and miles

to overcome every obstacle

just so I can get to you.

 

Saudade.

 

The wind whispers your name

while the rain marks the beat.

The pulse of my vanes

screams :

 

Saudade.

 

When do I get to see you?

When do I get to talk to you?

When do I get to kiss your lips

and hold you in my arms?

 

When do I get to run towards you

to see your face, to….

sigh.

When do I get to?

 

Saudade.

We stand

“They kissed good bye.”

Pencil breaks.

“They kissed good bye. Life does that sometimes, you know. You love more than you think capable, but the end is near.”

Sips a chocolate liquor.

“Yes, the end is near. Near sometimes takes forever, sometimes not.”

Reflects on endings… doesn’t accept it has already come. Scratching head. Small sip. Re-reads.

“This time, near has already passed, faster than thought possible. In fact, near has come and gone so fast that it all just feels like a dream: it took forever while happening, but passed in the blink of an eye after gone. That’s how ending love feels. No matter when, it’s always like a lifetime or a second ago. But that’s love, you know?

Your heart gets broken. Yes, every single time. One way or the other, at least.”

Feels like another sip. Needs something else with it.

“It comes and goes as it pleases. Doesn’t respect time, age, color, religion or the like. It devastates. Like a tsunami. Heavy. Destructive. Beautiful. Unique. Every time unique. That’s difficult to understand.”

Turns on the heat. Sharpens pencil. Too much, it broke. Closes the curtains. No light can come in anymore, no judgment. Order of things was actually different.

Pours half of the last can of beer. Familiar smell, now with a whole new purpose. Looks at drinks… sighs. Sipping, we can do it.

“It can be destructive, alright. Something made to be so beautiful, with such dreadful characteristics. Something with such pure intentions and poor judgment. Something so…”

Has no clue of how to finish sentence. Sips are no longer counted.

“Gifts. People. Moments. All that is desired is… it doesn’t matter. Desire does not leave the imagination, anyway.

Desire of the new, exciting, refreshing, revitalizing. Desire leads you nowhere. If somewhere, to the doom.

Desire of happiness: the most dangerous of all! It affects your partner, children, parents, closest friends and most fierce enemies. Desire kills you.

Hope kills you.

But hope is something else entirely.

Talk about drugs!

What’s fashion takes you places. To the bad or to the good. What’s fashion saves you.

If you live your true self, must you succumb to desire, passion, hope… must you succumb to life itself. For life is no more than a dream, and a dream is no more than the possibility of life.”

Reflects upon things written.

“Tears rejoice, for tears rinse. Suffering evaporates, though a salt bond is formed forever. Tears hurt.

The breath is but an attempt to stand over what’s happened. Such doing is believed impossible, as time only progresses. Where do we stand, then?

We stand in he arms of a loved one, in the words of kindness, in the hope of a better future, in the vain words of a failed poet, in the hidden feelings of a successful figure, in the infinite spaces between the universes; we stand tall.

We stand after others have fallen around us, we stand on top of mountains conquered, we stand for what’s right, just; we stand for the possibility of error. We stand against hypocrisy, after all aren’t we all just products of our own nature? We stand for the right of being human, for the humanity of being us. We stand for ourselves, we stand for each other. We stand.

May the most harsh of winters and the most burning of summers, may the spring flourish what should stay and the autumn take what’s done – may them win against what’s human, but may humanity be it’s purest.

Shall we fall before what’s handed, may that be brave. Shall we die upon disease, may that be in our most perfect health. Shall the world beat us, may that be after we have beaten the world.”